Starlight Dunes

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Should I be concerned that Julianne Dickinson has decided to relocate to Pelican Pointe?” she asked with a glint in her eye.

  Brent scowled in her direction. “Not a bit. Where did you hear that?”

  “From your mom. Seems Nick offered Julianne a position as principal at the elementary school when it opens next fall. Julianne accepted.”

  “Good for her.” His brow creased in irritation though at the implication. “So you think I’d be tempted to cheat with Julianne just because she’s handy?”

  River sighed. “It was a joke, Brent, nothing more. Where did you put your sense of humor?” But then she took in the look on his face. “I understand why you’re so edgy tonight but don’t read anything into my comment. I was trying to get your mind off this mess.”

  “Sorry. But after having been on the receiving end of cheating, never would I ever do that to another person. And I mean that. I would never put anyone else through the heartbreak and anguish of something like that. Ever.”

  “Just so you know, same goes for me.”

  He sat back in his chair and said, “What would you say if I told you I didn’t want to be sheriff anymore?”

  “I’d say do whatever makes you happy.”

  “Why aren’t you trying to talk me out of law enforcement? If any situation called for anxiety, anyone else would see the danger I’m in and try to talk me into quitting.”

  “Is that what you think I should be doing? Talking you out of a career you obviously love? First of all, I’m not that sort of person, Brent. I agree this is a bad situation. Two days ago I was hiding in your front flower bed scared to death for me, for my son, for the man I love. But you handled it, Brent. That’s part of who you are. The only time I’d ever try to talk you out of quitting is if it didn’t make you happy.”

  “No, I still like the idea of law enforcement. I don’t want to be sheriff anymore though.” He felt good to voice it out loud. He told her about Murphy’s offer.

  She tilted her head and grinned. “It’s a shame I might never get to see you in a uniform. Come to think of it, I like you a whole lot better out of one.”

  “That can be arranged. Are you sure Luke is sleeping?”

  “Uh huh. He was so tired he almost fell asleep before he took the last bite of his hotdog.”

  Brent went to her then, lifted her feet to put them in his lap. His hands roamed under her top so he could explore the mounds of her breasts. They each began to shed their clothes. T-shirts came off, jeans dropped to the floor.

  Rocking her back on the cushions, his body stretched out over hers. “If Luke’s asleep, let’s make this count then.”

  “It always does.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The next morning before breakfast Brent answered the door to a man holding up a government badge. “Sheriff Cody, I’m Mike Baker, ATF. Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” He led the way into the kitchen as Luke came out of the bedroom still wearing his pajamas carrying his Mr. Fuzzy Bear. A still sleepy Luke stretched his free arm out for Brent to lift him up. Scooping the tot off the floor, Brent asked, “Did the doorbell wake you up?”

  Luke bobbed his head.

  “What do you say we get our guest some coffee and get a bowl of Cheerios into you?”

  “Cute kid. Yours?” Baker asked.

  Brent grinned into Luke’s dark eyes. “He is now.”

  About that time River came through the back door with a fistful of flowers in her hand she’d picked in the yard. “Look at these gorgeous yellow daisies—I hope you have a nice vase to do them justice...” But her words came to a sudden stop when she heard Brent’s declaration and then took in the obvious stranger standing in the kitchen. Just as alarm tickled her throat, Brent introduced her.

  Relief let her finally take a breath. “Here, give me Luke. I’ll get him settled with his breakfast and bring you guys out some coffee,” she said, wanting to avoid any chance Luke might overhear talk about bombs and suspects.

  The two men backtracked to the living room where Brent took a seat on the sofa. “I guess if ATF shows up at my doorstep it means you’ve finally got a lead on my bomber.”

  “We do indeed. We have reason to believe the bomb that exploded inside your garage was a sophisticated device we’d only seen used in Iraq and Afghanistan. That is until we saw it earlier this year.”

  “The person who blew up my house has ties to the Middle East? I’d already come to that basic conclusion. But there’s just one problem with my theory. The DNA I collected at the cliffs came back female. I did my damnedest last night but I never could think of a single female soldier I’d put in jail in Iraq.”

  “You were military police during your stint in the army, correct?”

  Brent narrowed his eyes. “You already know I was. Why don’t you just shelve the games and come out with it? Tell me what you’ve got.”

  “Okay. When you were in Iraq you arrested a man by the name of Allandale, Curtis, went by the name Rick. One night he got drunk, beat and raped one of his fellow soldiers, a woman by the name of Connie Hoffman.”

  “I remember that case. What does Curtis Allandale have to do with me? Last I heard he was serving twenty years in Leavenworth.”

  “Quite a lot. We think his sister, Jamie Allandale, has been on a tear this entire year, ever since Curtis committed suicide in Leavenworth last Christmas. She told friends, or anyone else who would listen, she’d make everyone pay who she feels was responsible for locking up her brother. You’re on her short list of people she wants dead. I’d put her on the top of your suspect pile.”

  “How did this woman learn how to make the same kind of bomb we saw in Iraq?”

  “Easy. She dated a soldier, one of her brother’s army buddies. We’ve already interviewed him. He shared that info with her never suspecting for a moment she’d put it to general practice.”

  “I know for a fact it was Allandale who beat the crap out of the Hoffman woman before he raped her. Turns out, Corporal Hoffman wasn’t his only victim either. Records show he was a serial rapist even before he joined the military. Although this sister would explain the female DNA we found where she’d parked up on the cliffs before taking a potshot at me.”

  “I know all about Curtis Allandale. I went through the case file. He and his sister grew up in the foster care system in St. Louis. For siblings, they were especially close because they were the only family each other had. Neither was ever adopted out. Both had drug problems off and on. My guess is when you made the arrest and testified against Curtis at his trial, Jamie took it personally. We think it sent her over the edge. We’re pretty sure Jamie is the one who tried to kill the judge who sentenced Curtis to twenty years along with two other murders we’ve managed to link her to.”

  “Busy girl. She sounds like a psycho.”

  “That’s not the worst of it. The sophisticated timing device used in your garage matched to the same kind of material, same construction, as the one used to try to kill the judge. Like you, the judge survived his injuries. Ten days later she went after her brother’s attorney, a man by the name of Don Ellis in Kansas City, Missouri. Ellis wasn’t as lucky. And neither was his wife. They both died in the blast. Arson investigators have tied Jamie to that bomb from the fingerprint she left on some of the material she used to put it together. We’ve had an arrest warrant out for her since last March. But Jamie’s been clever. She’s been on the run now for eight months. She did get picked up in a little town outside Denver last August for public intoxication. Apparently she spent twenty-four hours in their jail and they ended up letting her go without fingerprinting her or running any kind of check for warrants. No doubt about it. We missed an opportunity there because she’s been one step ahead of us ever since.”

  “I hate to say this but that doesn’t speak too highly of your tracking skills. If this Jamie Allandale is the one who set the bomb in my house, she’s been a pain in the ass for months now. I’m tired of it.”

  “W
ith three attempts on your life, you’ve been lucky.”

  Brent studied the agent’s face. “Okay, you know more than you’re saying. Tell me how I can help put this person where she belongs.”

  “I have agents crawling all over this place. If we play this right, I don’t think Allandale will be able to stay away.”

  “Okay. But I need to take care of my family first.”

  The heavy dew peppered Jamie Allandale’s boots and left wet spots on her camouflage pants as she surveyed her quarry from the knee-high grass on the dunes. She knew she had to wait for the right opportunity. She’d blown too many chances already to mess up again.

  She shouldered the AR-15 and let the soft rolling mounds of sand hide her presence. Keeping to a low crouch, she eyed the people milling around at the site. For some stupid reason they were fond of digging in the mud.

  Knowing she wasn’t the best shot, she’d switched rifles, hoping that would solve the problem with her aim. She’d even spent time at the gun range, practicing with targets. She figured with the right weapon she could take a couple of the diggers out before anyone called the cops.

  She tapped the handle of her brother’s nine millimeter she’d tucked into her jacket pocket. The feel of metal gave her comfort. Absently she fingered the medallion she wore around her neck, the one Rick had given her for Christmas the last year before he’d gone overseas. It helped bring the focus back on Cody.

  But the voices told her she needed to stay out of sight until that perfect window of opportunity—and made a vow to Rick she wouldn’t miss again.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  For days River had resisted leaving Brent alone. But in the end she agreed to take Luke and spend a couple of days at Promise Cove. The B & B wasn’t as far as Brent wanted to send her but it was as far as she was willing to go.

  It wasn’t until that afternoon when she was helping Jordan with kitchen duty peeling potatoes for dinner that it came to her. “Oh my God. He’s acting as bait. That’s why he sent me out here.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jordan asked. “You mean Brent?”

  “Oh yeah, the sneaky so and so. He and that Agent Baker want to lure this woman out in the open. I’m sure of it.” She turned her attention to Luke, albeit briefly, to make sure her little guy was oblivious to the conversation and lowered her voice. “Brent got me to take Luke out of town so he’d be free to draw this crazy woman out without worrying about us. Ever since that ATF agent came to see him, they’ve been cooking up this scheme to end this once and for all. I’m sure that’s exactly what’s happening.” River untied the apron she’d put on and tossed it on the counter. “Will you watch Luke for me?”

  “River, you can’t go diving into Brent’s stakeout. It isn’t safe.”

  “I promise not to do anything stupid. I wouldn’t do that. I have Luke to think about now.”

  “Then where are you going?”

  “I just need to make sure Brent’s okay.”

  “River this isn’t a good idea.”

  “Maybe not. But Brent was there for me at a time when things looked bleak for me, for Luke. He got my son back to me, Jordan. I intend to make sure he knows how I feel about him.”

  “I’m sure he knows that.”

  “Look, it’s a feeling I have. I need to be there…for Brent.”

  By the time River reached her Jeep though, that feeling became an urgent knot in the pit of her stomach. That’s when she heard Scott’s voice and knew for certain Brent was in deep shit.

  She gunned the engine, threw the vehicle into reverse and headed south back into Pelican Pointe.

  “Just calm down. Don’t go charging in there with your head up your ass. He’s a cop, River. He knows what he’s doing.”

  River rolled her eyes at Scott sitting next to her in the front seat. “And he’s a damned good one, too. That’s why it’s a stupid thing to do. Just wait until I see that Baker guy. This all started with him. It’s his fault. I plan to give him a piece of my mind for dragging Brent into this screwball idea.”

  “If you think Cody can be dragged into anything he doesn’t want to participate in, you don’t know him half as well as you think you do,” Scott reasoned.

  “Men,” River grumbled. “Hardheaded, never willing to listen to reason.”

  “From a male’s point of view, let me just say, right back atcha.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  Once she reached Beach Street, Scott did his best to offer input. “Approach the house from the rear. Park on Landings Bay and make your way between the houses. Down that way there’s an alley where you can park. Leave your car there then go through Myrtle Pettibone’s backyard along the side.”

  “Thanks,” she muttered as she crawled out of the truck.

  “You don’t even have a weapon,” Scott pointed out. “What’s your plan?”

  She blew out a breath. “Then be of some use and provide a distraction because I don’t have a plan.”

  “What kind of distraction?”

  “You’re a damned ghost. Think of something. Rattle a chain or something.”

  “Too clichéd.”

  “Then get creative. Whatever you do, do it now ’cause that’s his house right there.”

  Silent as she could, she moved along the side of the fence until she reached the corner of the stucco where she could peer around to take in the street.

  A series of shots rang out. She heard voices, one calm, one agitated and growing more so.

  “Put the gun down, Jamie!” Brent demanded.

  River stuck her head out, saw three bodies lying across Ocean Street beside a black SUV. None were moving. River turned her eyes on the disturbed female, a blonde dressed in camouflage with her face painted up with what looked like war paint. That’s when River spotted the cannon Jamie held in her right hand. The barrel glinted in the dwindling sunlight as Jamie approached the porch where Brent stood—inching her way with every step—aiming the large caliber weapon at Brent’s chest.

  Her words turned sharper and angrier. “You son of a bitch, you killed my brother,” Jamie screamed at Brent. “You were the MP who arrested him then testified against him, you saw to it he was locked up in that horrible place. You might as well have killed him yourself when he took his own life. You did that to him.”

  Brent stared into Jamie’s dull blue eyes and saw insanity. “I arrested your brother because he was accused of raping a fellow soldier, a corporal in his own unit,” Brent pointed out calmly. Using all the patience he’d honed in law enforcement over the years, he made sure his voice stayed level when he added, “I practically caught him in the act, Jamie. Although by the time I got there it was too late to stop the actual attack from taking place.”

  “But Rick didn’t do it,” Jamie argued. “You arrested an innocent man.”

  “Didn’t you hear what I said? I walked in on Rick after he’d beaten the victim so badly she had a concussion. Rick’s own unit heard the victim’s screams and called the MPs. It wasn’t just me who testified against him but at least fifteen members of his own unit, the ones there that night. Do you intend to go after all of them?”

  “If I have to.”

  “I did my job that night, Ms. Allandale, and if I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t change a thing. I’d do exactly what I did. I arrested Rick while my partner took the victim to the hospital where they took more than a dozen photos of her that showed the bruises and bite marks Rick put there. The DNA and the bite marks matched your brother’s. There’s no mistake about who hurt Connie Hoffman.”

  “No, no, it wasn’t Rick. He was a good person,” Jamie said stubbornly. “He wasn’t even there that night.”

  “Was that what he told you, Jamie? Because if it is your brother lied. I’m sorry but he did. Rick had violent rape in his past. He was charged with raping a sixteen-year-old when he was a senior in high school. That’s what prompted him to join the army in the first place. When he left town, the teenager’s parents decided to
let it drop. Rick got lucky then. Reading your file from back then, you couldn’t have been more than sixteen yourself at the time. That’s young for a sister to deal with the fact her brother is a rapist. But this is about more than your brother’s past. At his court-martial a seven-panel military court weighed all the evidence. My testimony was merely part of it. I told them what I’d seen the night I walked into the compound, described the condition of the woman. They considered all that. Rick was found guilty and got twenty years.”

  “My brother got beaten up in that God-awful prison almost every single day he was there. He couldn’t take the abuse anymore. That’s why he took his own life. One morning the guards found him dead. He’d hung himself. That’s on you! It’s your fault!”

  “I’m sorry about your brother. I am. I know he was your only family. But I can’t help what happened to him once he got to Leavenworth.”

  “You’re a cold-hearted bastard, aren’t you? My brother suffered every day because you locked him up in that hellhole. You sent him there.”

  “I arrested him. I testified against him in court. But I didn’t send him there. The judge sentenced him. That’s the system.”

  As River continued looking on from the corner of the house, she noted Brent kept trying to reason with the woman even to the point of stepping back with each verbal volley. But River didn’t think Jamie was inclined to listen to reason. The blonde kept creeping toward him, getting closer with that big cannon of a gun pointed at his chest with each step she took until she was almost in his face.

  “Now, River! Move now,” Scott instructed. “Take her down!”

  River took off running. “Don’t!” she shouted. But about that time Jamie pulled the trigger as Brent ducked and reached for the .38 he’d strapped to his ankle.

  The move saved him from taking a slug straight to the armor vest he wore.