Lighthouse Reef (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 4)

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Are you kidding? That’s easy. We live right next door to the perfect dumping ground,” Logan returned.

  “The ocean,” Kinsey offered.

  “Exactly.” Logan noted the stares from his friends, noted the sympathy on their faces. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, so he added, “I’ve already spent a considerable amount of time thinking about that distinct possibility.”

  “After all, look what happened to Sissy Carr,” Keegan put in.

  “You think Gina’s death could have something to do with Sissy’s?” Nick wanted to know.

  “But Kent killed Sissy. Didn’t he?” Jordan asked.

  Ethan shook his head. “Brent and I thought he did. But law enforcement hasn’t found hide nor hair of Kent Springer in more than two years,” Ethan said. “His credit cards haven’t been used, nor has his social security number. And in this age of technology, it’s difficult to completely disappear.”

  “But not impossible,” Logan stated.

  “Kent did have a half million dollars in his possession at the time he and Sissy went missing,” Nick offered. “That money could have bought him a new ID and then some.”

  “True,” Ethan agreed. “But we have no proof of that. All we know for sure is when Harold and Drake Boedecker came across Sissy Carr’s body, she was a floating corpse.”

  “We should do something for poor Eileen and Clint Purvis,” Lilly suggested. “They’re in my Sunday school class at church. We should find out when the funeral is.”

  “It’s Thursday,” Kinsey offered. “Clint came to the office yesterday to see Aaron. He needed help locating Gina’s brother to let him know about her death. Apparently, the brother took off when he turned eighteen. His parents haven’t heard from him in six or seven years now.”

  “I don’t see how anyone will be able to find him then before his sister’s funeral,” Cord reasoned.

  “What do Clint and Eileen say about all of this? Are they thinking Troy’s responsible?” Keegan asked.

  Cord nodded, sent a look toward Logan. “Unfortunately, they do. I think it’s a given in this town. We, the people in this room, are the exceptions. Well, except for maybe Ethan.”

  “Then we’ll just have to show the good residents of Pelican Pointe that Troy Dayton is no killer,” Logan vowed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Word had finally leaked out that the renowned sculptor, Logan Donnelly, had bought the Smuggler’s Bay Lighthouse. Logan couldn’t help but wonder why it had taken so long for them to get around to him. When the San Sebastian Chronicle contacted him wanting a quote, instead of hanging up on the reporter, Logan had recognized an opportunity.

  Usually he eluded the press like a kid avoided eating green veggies. But now that one of his employees had been accused of murder, going public might be a chance to tout Troy’s innocence in a sanctioned capacity. An interview might be just the thing to let the entire area know Troy had people in his corner. Even if it was a newspaper as small as the neighboring town, it would bring attention to Troy’s case.

  Sure enough, two days after the article hit the streets, Troy’s ten supporters ramped up their campaign. Now that it was public knowledge Troy had supporters, Logan and Kinsey had posters printed up offering a reward for information leading to the arrest of Gina’s real killer.

  It wasn’t exactly the most popular move they could’ve made since most the town considered Troy Dayton a cold-hearted murderer.

  But that didn’t deter the members of the group from taking turns going door to door contacting the local business owners around town asking if they could put up the posters.

  Ferguson’s Hardware didn’t dare refuse Logan since he was spending a crap load of money there on lumber and other materials.

  Kinsey likewise convinced Perry Altman to put one up in the lobby of The Pointe. The same was true at Murphy’s Market where two decorated each glass side panel by the front doors—one you could see going in—the other you couldn’t miss on the way out.

  Wally plastered the front windows of the Pump N Go with several. And since Nick was the bank president, Jordan tacked her poster up inside the lobby without any real problems. As it turned out, with a change at the top, the financial institution all but oozed friendly assistance these days.

  Finishing up at the bank, Jordan’s next stop was the Hilltop Diner. Max and Margie gladly agreed to put up two, one for the front windows and one to put behind the register. From there Jordan headed to the row of businesses along Ocean Street where she met up with Keegan.

  Keegan had put up posters at the Fanning Marine Rescue Center and Cord had followed suit out at Taggert Farms. Cord’s drivers had even taped a few signs to the inside back windows of their delivery trucks. Together Keegan and Cord had talked Bran Sullivan, the town vet, into putting up one at his house which also doubled as the vet’s office.

  No one offered too much in the way of resistance. At least not until Keegan and Jordan ventured back down to Main Street and into Knudsen’s Pharmacy. Keegan had no sooner gotten her pitch started, than Carl Knudsen shook his head, his cordial demeanor went south. The pharmacist held up a hand. “Stop right there, Keegan. You’re not putting that up in here.”

  “But why?” Keegan wanted to know. “Troy didn’t kill Gina Purvis.”

  “He wouldn’t have been arrested if he hadn’t done it,” Carl stated emphatically. And after five minutes of trying to dissuade him of that belief, Keegan and Jordan gave up and left.

  It was about that same time that Kinsey and Lilly encountered their first pocket of resistance at both the Snip N Curl, then again at McCready’s. When Wally found out, he stubbornly took the posters from the women and stormed back inside to have a discussion with Janie Pointer himself. After that, he went into the bar to confront Flynn McCready. Five minutes later, Wally came back empty-handed.

  “What did you say to make them change their minds?” Kinsey wanted to know.

  Wally grinned. “I told both Janie and Flynn if they ever wanted their cars worked on any time in the future, they might better take the posters.”

  “Good idea. But do you think the signs will stay up?”

  “If they don’t, they’ll have to get their oil changed in San Sebastian or Santa Cruz from now on. And I’d personally love to be the one to tell them what they can do if their cars need work.”

  By two-thirty that afternoon, they all met back up at the big booth in The Hilltop Diner for lunch and coffee, except for Keegan and Cord who both had to dash off to make afternoon classes they couldn’t miss.

  As Nick nibbled on his turkey sandwich and fries, he decided there was something he needed to get off his chest. “It’s hard to believe the serial killer bit. I mean, the more I think about it, the more I want to believe those girls just ran off, that they’re out there somewhere and all this is a bad dream.” Nick met Logan’s eyes. “But as much as I’d like to believe it, as much as I’d like to go on thinking this is a great place for my kids to grow up, I don’t think it’s possible that ten girls could go missing like that. What I can’t understand is why this isn’t all over the local news? The whole thing is bugging me.”

  Logan waited for Nick to get to the point. “But you love this place.”

  “Now I do. But when I first got to town, I hated it. The people did everything they could to make Jordan’s life miserable which made me resent them for it. Turns out, part of the problem was Sissy Carr. She’d been spreading gossip about Jordan ever since Scott moved back here.”

  “And?” Logan prompted.

  “And now I’m beginning to look at every face that comes into the bank and wonder is this the guy?”

  Jordan sighed. “I thought it was just me. Glad to know I’m not the only one doing that. You have to remember, Scott thought this was such a great little town. For a while there I couldn’t figure out why. Now, Nick and I are almost right back where we were wondering. We’ve had several late night discussions about who in town might be doing this,” Jordan
said in way of explanation. “Now we’re dealing with something so evil, it’s difficult to imagine that someone living here is…doing this and we have no idea who it might be.”

  Kinsey chewed the inside of her jaw. Should she mention that Scott had admitted to her that he knew who had killed Megan? She stared over at Logan, saw the stubborn set of his mouth, and decided this was not a good time to bring it up. After all, the man didn’t like acknowledging he’d ever seen Scott, let alone have a conversation about him.

  But later, Kinsey couldn’t let the subject go. It kept nagging at her. So when they got back to her place, she turned to Logan. Before she could say anything, he surprised her. “Okay, what’s bothering you? You hardly said a word during lunch, then barely talked during the ride back here. You’re too quiet.”

  She knew no other way than to blurt it out. For ten minutes she went over everything Scott had said to her verbatim.

  “Scott said what? That’s…ridiculous. Wait a minute. You had one of your infamous conversations with this guy and he actually admitted to you he knew who killed Megan but refused to tell you? What the hell kind of game is that? So this ghost knows whose killing young girls and has been for years, but won’t name him? What kind of benevolent spirit is that, Kinsey? Think about it.”

  She pushed her hair off her face, began to pace. “I knew you’d react this way. I hesitated telling you because I knew you wouldn’t get it.”

  “What’s there to get? I think I’ve got a handle on this guy now. I won’t take the bait, so he works on you.”

  “Why do you say that? Unless…Scott tried to talk to you about this very thing, didn’t he? And you blew up at him just like you’re doing right now. You know what, Logan? No one can talk to you. I thought, hey, this is your sister we’re talking about. You might want to think outside the box on this, reach out to any resource you could get. The way Scott explained it to me was this. Let’s say he gave me a name. What good would it do? We’d still have to find proof.”

  “That’s just it. This is too important to have Scott Phillips playing games with you or me.”

  “Well, he said we needed to figure this out on our own, that no one would ever believe us without proof. He has a point, Logan.”

  “To hell he does. Give me a name. I’ll go after the son of a bitch. You want evidence. I’ll get proof.”

  “Oh my God, you would do it, too. You want to go after the guy and maybe you’re the one who’ll end up in jail? You think about that. Is that what you want? Because that isn’t how it works.”

  “How the fuck do you know how it works? This is my sister we’re talking about. There are nine, now ten, other lives destroyed by this bastard and you want me to play by the rules. I don’t think so.”

  And with that Logan stormed out of the studio, slamming the door hard enough to shake the panes in the windows.

  Logan felt weird seeking advice from Wade Hawkins. But he didn’t know where else to go. He’d called Ethan to get directions to a rambling, western-style ranch house, located two miles north of town. The place reminded Logan of a rustic ski lodge complete with wooden front porch and railing. It brought to mind the Ponderosa, that house where the Cartwright brothers called home on the old television reruns he’d seen of Bonanza.

  Wade greeted Logan with the same cheery disposition he’d shown in the bar that night when the old guy had wanted to talk about ghosts. After following Wade into a massive living room with log-paneled walls, vaulted, timber plank ceilings, and a stone fireplace that took up an entire wall, Logan settled into one of the wing chairs.

  “What can I do for you?” Wade asked.

  “You should have told me that Sunday night in the bar you were the local expert on paranormal activity.”

  “I thought you knew that when I told you I was writing a book. It’s clear you were skeptical that night of anything paranormal.” Wade steepled his fingers, tucked them under his chin as if thinking. “Have you had a change of heart?”

  “No. I’m here because both times I saw Scott Phillips I was still jet-lagged. He obviously was a hallucination or something. Before that incident occurred Kinsey had mentioned him at dinner. In fact, the entire conversation pretty much centered around Scott in his ghostly form. Power of suggestion.”

  Wade smiled. “Then why are you here?”

  “Because Kinsey believes she sees him, talks to him. And it’s significant.”

  “And this upsets you. You’re looking to have her committed for some reason,” Wade said with a twinkle in his eye.

  Logan finally allowed a smile to form on his lips. “I wouldn’t even want to try. Kinsey is…her own person, a little quirky. She believes this ghost stuff is real.”

  “And you don’t.”

  “Of course not.”

  “So your own sightings you’ve chalked up to nothing more than jet lag and ignored Scott for the most part? What do you want from me, Logan?”

  He felt fairly ridiculous asking the question. So he hesitated, a little too long.

  Wade took the opening to suggest, “So Scott said something specific to you that only you and no one else would know?”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Honestly? Hayden reported a similar encounter. So did Nick, Keegan and Cord Bennett for that matter. And Kinsey showed up on my doorstep two days ago.”

  Logan blew out a frustrated breath. “Nick mentioned it. But I didn’t know about the rest. It’s just that…Kinsey seems to think that in her first actual conversation with Scott, he used some code word that only she would get.”

  Wade noticed he didn’t include himself. “That’s fairly typical to establish trust, so that he’s assured of putting you at ease. But that didn’t work with you.”

  Logan got up to pace. “It pissed me off.”

  An opening, thought Wade. He wanted to keep Logan talking. “Scott does that...frequently.”

  “Why? I thought he was supposed to be this benevolent, helpful entity and here I find out he’s anything but.”

  “Really? Scott’s brought harm to Kinsey? In what way?”

  He’d backed himself into a corner with that. “How do you think?” Logan snarled. “He’s playing with Kinsey’s head. And I don’t like it. He dabbles in the truth, can’t seem to commit to an honest dialogue.”

  “Interesting,” Wade muttered. “From everything I’ve heard Scott’s always been a pretty straight shooter with everyone. He throws in a few riddles now and again to make you think. I’ve heard he can be a major pain in the ass when he gets in a mood. But for the most part Scott’s fairly candid. Are you certain you aren’t looking at him with blinders, putting up a barrier of some sort to protect yourself from whatever it is he’s trying to convey to you?”

  “That’s…absurd. Why would I block something I don’t even consider possible? If he isn’t playing games why doesn’t he just speak his mind?”

  “You tell me. Look, let me make a suggestion. Seek Scott out, try having a reasonable discussion about something innocuous for starters?”

  “And that would be…what?”

  “I’d say that’s up to you.”

  After leaving the Ponderosa Logan headed to Eternal Gardens to test out Wade’s idea. He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen. All he knew was he wanted Scott to show up and talk to him again.

  Logan got out of his truck, made his way to the Donnelly family plot. This time he’d stopped at the florist in town to buy flowers. He arranged the pink roses in the urn and sat back to wait. After five minutes or so, Logan grumbled. “You didn’t have any trouble appearing before you son of a bitch?” Silence. “Not man enough to face me now, huh? What is it with you?” Still nothing.

  “You’re pretty good at giving people the cold shoulder.” Still silence. “I could’ve sworn you said I should let you know when I’m ready to accept help.”

  “Are you?”

  Logan whirled around to see Scott standing five feet from him. “What do you know about Megan? Did you
really tell Kinsey you know who killed her?”

  “First of all, what I say to Kinsey is none of your business.” Scott pointed an accusing finger at Logan. “You browbeat her for believing she sees me then you come out here expecting me to open up to you. I don’t think so.”

  “Now you’re playing games.”

  “I’m trying to get you to understand that I can’t just give you a name. It doesn’t work like that.”

  “Then suppose you educate me because I’m not familiar with the rules according to Scott.”

  “I went out with Megan a couple of times that summer, actually a lot more than a couple of times.”

  “You’re making that up to piss me off. It’s working.”

  “I can’t win with you. You argue when I try to tell you anything. You don’t want to listen.” Scott threw up his hands in frustration. But as Scott started to fade away, Logan spoke up, begging, pleading. “Don’t go. I’m sorry. I’ll do anything to find out what happened to Megan. Please. Tell me what you can about what happened to her. Anything at all. Your terms.”

  Scott’s voice said, “She was supposed to meet me that night under the pier.”

  Chills ran along Logan’s arm and the evening was too warm for it. “That Friday night she went missing? You were the date, the guy she was meeting? All this time, you were the one I couldn’t remember.”

  “It was me. But that night, Megan never showed up, Logan. I waited underneath the pier most of the night until well after four a.m. She often snuck out of the house to meet me late at night. That place was our spot. We’d make out there sometimes. Either there or I’d pick her up in my old Chevy and bring her out to the cove.” As if that memory held on a little too long, Scott stopped talking to gather his thoughts. When he finally spoke again, he said, “The cove was the best place. We’d spend hours there swimming or just lying on the beach. Megan was happy, Logan. We were both happy. In love.”

  Logan sensed there was more. The chills were gone now. But sweat streamed down his back. “What are you not telling me?” He watched now as Scott began to pace back and forth in full form. Whatever it was, Logan had a feeling he wasn’t going to like hearing it.