Lighthouse Reef (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 4)

by Vickie McKeehan

  “You didn’t have to move all your stuff today.”

  “It was taking up a lot of space. Troy and I covered everything with tarps in case of bad weather.” He glanced up at the cloudless sky, promising a beautiful spring evening. “But it doesn’t look like there’s a chance of that yet.”

  “I wish I could offer you space in the garage, but it’s a virtual black hole in there.”

  “That’s okay. My electrical tools have yet to get here. Those I’ll keep in a storage space I rented on Ocean Street this morning.”

  “There’s a lot to starting over,” Jordan considered.

  Logan grinned. “You have no idea.” When the kids started to fuss, Logan excused himself and headed to his room to shower and clean up before dinner.

  But as soon as he got to the front staircase and started up the steps, he felt an unmistakable change in temperature. The cold air pressed against him like a block of ice. He stopped on the landing, felt the chill on the back of his neck. “Nice try,” he muttered to nothing but air. “You’ve already made your point. And I’m eighty bucks lighter because of it. What more do you want?”

  Another wave of ice blasted him. “Pissed off? Join the club. Your temper fits don’t scare me as easily as they did some little old lady.”

  When Logan glanced around the hallway, he fixed a gaze on Olivia and Kay Whitney peeking out at him from behind the doors of their separate rooms.

  “Ladies,” Logan acknowledged with a nod of his head as he calmly took out his key to unlock his own door.

  Over spareribs, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob, no one seemed particularly eager to mention Scott the Ghost, which Logan deemed odd. He’d been prepared to defend his odd behavior on the landing all the while disregarding the episode earlier in the day at the cemetery.

  When Kinsey attempted to make small talk, Logan ignored her. In fact, he ignored most everyone except the kids. Since they sat two feet from him, he used his silverware to make up a story about “spoon man.”

  But once the meal ended and the talk turned to kids and their finicky eating habits, Logan sought out a place to escape. He stepped outside on the front porch for some air. Hoping for a little solitude, his face fell when he spotted Kinsey sitting in the swing. She seemed preoccupied, staring off into the cypress trees.

  Even with his brusque attitude firmly locked in place, his eyes landed on her tanned legs. She wasn’t dressed like she had been at dinner. She’d changed out of her work clothes and into a pair of low-riding, hip-hugging hiking shorts that were impossible not to notice. A powder blue, button-down sleeveless shirt showed off her toned arms. When she glanced up, their eyes locked.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Logan said, beginning to feel like a jerk. Since his contribution to dinner conversation had been nil, he decided to try to make amends. “Believe it or not, I’m not usually this surly.”

  “Aren’t you?” she replied with a tilt of her head to study him.

  “I could move on, leave you to your own thoughts.”

  “Don’t be silly. The only place in this house that isn’t off limits to everyone is your own room. They call this coziness a big perk at a B & B.” She grinned. “So if you’re looking for solitude, it’s best to either slip away to your own room or go for a walk.” She spread her arms wide. “There are acres and acres of things to see here. But don’t forget your camera. The lupine’s in bloom along the sand dunes. Have you been down to the cove yet?”

  When she finally took a breath, he shook his head and admitted, “I’ve been meaning to walk down there but today was pretty hectic. Which reminds me.” With his one good hand, he took a twenty from his pocket, handed it off to Kinsey. “I lost the bet.”

  She snapped the bill out of his hand before bursting out in a huge belly laugh. When she finally recovered, she asked, “What time? We have our own pool going on the side.”

  “Figures. That must be why Nick wanted to know the time, too. A few minutes before midnight. I think the odds favored the house. Considerably.”

  “Damn. Nick won. He probably had inside info. As far as the odds go, they favored Scott.” A chuckle escaped her lips. She raised her arms in triumph and did a happy dance where she sat, making the swing bounce. “Woot! I’m glad Scott’s on our side though.” She patted the wooden slats beside her. “Have a seat. There’s plenty of room. Tell me all about your Scott sighting—I promise I don’t bite—in spite of the rumors going around town.”

  As soon as he sat down, his weight made the old porch swing creak even more. “At least the entire town isn’t calling you a dirty hippie freak with hair down to your ass. This morning when I went into Ferguson’s to order material, I believe his first words to me were, ‘hey, they said your hair grew down to your ass. Did you get it cut recently?’ I wanted to tell him to eff off. But instead I gave him my best smile and returned the favor.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I told him he wasn’t nearly as repulsive as Nick said he was. You should have seen his eyes bug out.”

  That brought another round of guffaws from Kinsey. “You’ve got a cruel streak, Donnelly. Maybe the town will nominate you for their Congeniality Contest they hold every year.” When she noted the disbelieving look form on his face, she continued, “According to my employer, every spring they have this parade to celebrate spring. Apparently, we must’ve just missed it. Anyway, they vote on the one resident who’s contributed to the community the most. The one that wins is given a hundred-dollar gift certificate to spend around town. But don’t get your hopes up. The town’s a little slow in welcoming newcomers like us. Besides, it’s usually the same people who win again and again. Trust me. It won’t be me or you.”

  “What’s their beef with you?”

  “Oh my God, haven’t you heard? I’m the idiot woman who thinks she can practice law with a degree she earned over the Internet.”

  Logan’s eyes went wide. “The Internet? Why would they think that? Who started that rumor?”

  “Oh it’s not a rumor. It’s true.”

  “Huh? You mean you got one of those online law degrees and thought you could practice law with it?”

  Was the man always so insulting? she wondered. “You bet. In the State of California you can practice law as long as you pass the Bar, which I did. Not to brag.” She leaned a bit closer in his direction and whispered, “Don’t tell anyone, but I aced that sucker.”

  “Well then, you should tell the town to—”

  “Eff themselves?” She chuckled once again. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. Not my style, for one. Then there’s the fact that I do need a few of them to eventually come around enough to let me draw up their wills and trusts so I’ll have actual clients.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  “Thanks. Are you going to tell me what happened when you encountered Scott?”

  His sigh was more embarrassment than annoyance. “I went to sleep early. I’m still pretty jetlagged. I woke up, couldn’t remember where I was other than it was a strange place, not home, or rather not the home I’d had for three years. Anyway, there’s this guy standing at the foot of my bed. I honestly thought someone had gotten into my room. It pissed me off. I’m still not sure it wasn’t.”

  She gave him a dismissive stare. “I bet it did under the circumstances. So you’re edgy because you’ve just woken to find a strange man in your room, go on.”

  “He wasn’t there for very long.” He didn’t intend to repeat the play by play. “So what exactly did you do when you first saw him in your room? It had to scare you.”

  “First time he talked to me, Scott didn’t come to my room. Second, we aren’t talking about me…yet. I’ll tell you all about it though after I hear what happened to you. So tell me.”

  He took her through the rest, again holding everything back that Scott had said to him, especially the argument at the cemetery.

  “That’s it? That’s all he said? Are you sure you were awake enough to catch ev
erything? Because usually he’s a lot more prophetic, like he’s talking in riddles or something and you’re supposed to figure it out.”

  “Okay, then why don’t you enlighten me about your experience?”

  Kinsey sensed Logan putting up the same wall she’d seen yesterday at the lighthouse. “I already told you the first time I saw him, walking up the back staircase as I came down, then poof, he was gone. But the first conversation I had with him was down at the cove the day I got back from my job interview. I wanted a last look around the place before checking out, so I took a walk. Would you like to see it? The cove I mean? The sun’s going down soon. If we hurry, it’ll be the perfect time.”

  “Might as well. Lead the way.”

  “It’s not really a walk. It’s more like a climb down. But it’s worth it. You’ll see.” She got to her feet, took his left hand in hers. “Come on, I’ll show you the sights along the way. It makes up for the way we suckered you into the bet.” She popped the crisp twenty dollar bill with both hands for emphasis before shoving it in her shorts pocket.

  As they took off around the side of the house and into the back courtyard, Logan noted the woman’s gift for gab. He even began to relax a little in the wake of her innate, cheery nature. She admired the quad area, the garden setting where color burst from each budding flower. The early evening air became heavy with the smell of lilies, dianthus, and if Logan knew anything about posies, gardenias.

  When the Harris’s dog, Quake, bolted onto their path, Kinsey stopped to give the energetic animal what he seemed to expect, a generous belly rub for his trouble. As the dog dropped and rolled at her feet, she tussled with him and said, “You’re such a good boy. Aren’t you, Quake?”

  Right behind the dog, a harried Nick appeared in hot pursuit, toting his son on one shoulder. Kinsey went into what Logan termed “baby mode” as she kept the dog happy all the while cooing at the eleven-month-old boy. “Look at you, what a big handsome guy all ready for bed in your penguin PJs.”

  “We were taking the dog for a walk before bedtime.”

  “It’s a beautiful night for it,” Kinsey reasoned. “How do you keep him from digging up all these gorgeous flower beds?”

  “Scott or Quake?” Nick joked. “Both love to dig in the dirt.”

  “Little boys, dogs and dirt just go together.”

  “Quake was hard to break from digging. We watched a lot of episodes of Dog Whisperer until we felt like we were on a first name basis with Cesar Millan. The key is to tire him out, walk him, exercise him so that he’s so tired he won’t feel like digging.”

  “Quake or Scott?” Kinsey quipped back.

  “Both,” Nick returned with a sly grin.

  The homespun scene didn’t get past Logan. A big old mutt of a dog, a cute, powdered baby, and one very attractive female who seemed to relish life and appreciate the people who came and went around her. It had been a very long time since Logan had spent any time with a woman like Kinsey Wyatt. Maybe he never had.

  After Nick said his goodnights, the two continued on past fragrant magnolias and dogwoods laden with buds and blooms. Fallen leaves and blossoms scattered the ground, providing them with a soft carpet that made a swish-swish sound as they walked. Once they got to a copse of cypress, Logan saw the cliffs up ahead.

  The entire time Kinsey chatted about cameras and pictures and photo spreads in magazines. For most of the walk, Logan wasn’t able to keep track of her mindset. He wouldn’t have described her as scatterbrained or flighty, but she seemed to take in everything at once and comment on it just as fast.

  They finally reached a small clearing that opened up to a set of wooden steps built into the bluffs. She took hold of the handy iron-pipe guardrail and led the way down. Logan smelled rosemary and sage along with Monterey pine. Wild blackberries and strawberries lined the trail in addition to patches of ginger, beach grass, and alfalfa.

  The last step was a bit of a drop onto a sandy stretch of shoreline that spread out forty yards or so in a half circle. Gentle waves lapped at the beach. Craggy rocks formed a natural tide pool at one end. At the other, Logan spotted an opening that suggested a cavern. A dinghy bobbed up and down, restless in the current.

  Kinsey sat down on a jutting boulder to shed her boots and socks. Barefoot now, she stood up and spread her arms out wide, practically dancing to water’s edge. She dipped her pink-painted toes into the frigid water of the Pacific.

  She turned to look back at him and Logan felt his breath hitch. The breeze tousled her hair. She didn’t seem to care. In the light of the setting sun, it shimmered golden brown. It hit Logan then for real. This was no high-strung, insecure model that needed validation every time she passed a mirror.

  “Hey, you okay?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”

  Something was definitely wrong. With everything else right now, he didn’t need a distraction, certainly not one he wanted to undress, just slip those shorts down around her ankles and... “Crap,” he mumbled out loud.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I stubbed my toe.”

  “But you’re wearing shoes.”

  Nothing got past Kinsey. “Must’ve gotten a rock in my shoe then on the way down.”

  “Well then, take off your shoes,” Kinsey urged.

  He plopped his butt down on a boulder. “Are you ever going to finish telling me about Scott?”

  She smiled and drifted back over to him, a stingy sliver of sun at her back. “It was right here, right on this spot that I talked to him the first time. I was sitting where you are. Again, I thought he was one of the guests until he moved closer. Something just flicked on. And then, Scott spoke to me, two words, and I knew.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Sam Wheat?” The puzzled look on Logan’s face told her he didn’t get the reference. “Sam Wheat, Patrick Swayze’s character in Ghost. Remember I mentioned it’s my favorite movie and was my mom’s. She died last year.”

  “I’m sorry,” Logan said, scratching his chin and frowning. “Was Sam Wheat supposed to be some code that you were supposed to recognize?”

  She sat down on the rock beside him. “You really don’t get it, do you? Scott uttered those two words so I’d know. And yeah, it was code for me. My mother was sick a long time, more than eight years. We had plenty of chances to talk about the hereafter. When you’re looking death in the face on a regular basis, those kinds of conversations seemed to pop up again and again. Some might handle it differently and not want to talk about it. But Ellie Wyatt faced it head on. I never saw her tackle anything any other way. I’m proud of her for that.”

  Logan noticed the eyes glisten with tears and felt like a heel. She was obviously still feeling some degree of grief about her mother. But if there were some type of hereafter where ghosts congregated, why then didn’t his own—? He caught himself falling into that trap, that line of thinking and refused to go there. When he realized she’d gone on with the story, he was grateful she hadn’t expected him to comfort her. “I still don’t get—”

  “I’m trying to explain it if you’ll just listen. My mom and I would often discuss what kind of memorial service she wanted, what she wanted to wear, funeral arrangements, music she was fond of, stuff like that. Ellie Wyatt left nothing to chance, that’s for sure. She was too practical. Then every time we watched Ghost, we’d laugh and joke that if she could, she’d make her presence known some way, somehow.”

  Logan listened in fascination. Were people really this gullible? He felt as though he’d stepped into a Pelican Pointe time warp, or maybe an episode of Outer Limits. He hoped to hell she wasn’t getting ready to confess Scott the Ghost had helped her make a clay pot. “But, you don’t really believe that this Scott was trying to communicate some message from your mother?”

  “Scott’s here, isn’t he? How do you explain that? You saw him for yourself.”

  He blew out a pent-up breath because he didn’t have a ready answer for that. “I’m still trying to blame it on j
et lag.”

  “Let me know when you’ve been here for a couple of weeks and the jet lag has come and gone.” She looked him in the eye, waited a beat. “You know what I think?”

  “I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

  “I think Scott mentioned something personal to you. He pushed a button, and you’re reluctant to admit it.”

  “Great, so now you think you’re capable of reading my mind. You know this is loony bin stuff, right?”

  “Maybe so. But I’ve been in a work environment for more than a decade that meets the public every single day. I’m good at reading body language. You’ve got something troubling you, Donnelly. You’ll have to let it go sooner or later.”

  Chapter Seven

  At five o’clock on Friday, the work week done at Hartley’s law office, Kinsey had ninety minutes to make it to her first gig. She intended to make a quick trip out to Promise Cove to grab something to eat and change her clothes before heading to The Pointe.

  Once she reached the B & B though, the turnaround wasn’t quite as fast as she’d hoped. In fact, before she had time to dash upstairs, she got caught the minute she stepped inside the entryway by the Whitney sisters. They wanted to know how exactly she got her hair the same color as Blake Lively’s of all things.

  “Olivia noticed it right off the bat. She has this thing for hair,” Kay explained.

  “It isn’t colored,” Kinsey replied.

  “Of course, it’s colored,” Olivia insisted. “What woman doesn’t change her hair?”

  Kay urged Kinsey on. “You can tell us. We won’t say a word to anyone, we swear it.”

  Since every minute counted and since she couldn’t convince them otherwise, Kinsey made up the first shade that popped into her head. “Sunkissed. Clairol.”

  Olivia snapped her fingers. “That’s it. I knew it. Those Clairol people have the best colors on the market. Told you,” Olivia said to Kay.

  “Look, I’ve got to run,” Kinsey said as she darted past them into the kitchen to grab a sandwich for the road.