As soon as the house came into view, Eastlyn saw Jordan waiting on the porch.
“Thanks for making time to talk,” Eastlyn said getting out of the truck. “I know this is your busy season so I appreciate it.”
“Don’t be silly. I always have time to talk about Scott. Come on inside, Nick’s on kitchen duty. Have you eaten?”
Eastlyn sent her a wide smile. “I didn’t come to impose like that. But I wouldn’t turn down a plate of anything you have on hand. You’re a genius in the kitchen.”
“Tonight it was buttermilk fried chicken with mashed potatoes and fried okra. The meal was in honor of the couple from Nashville staying here on their honeymoon. They’re due to check out tomorrow. They’re down at the cove taking pictures before they head back home.” In a casual tone, Jordan added, “So you’ve seen Scott.”
“Last night. And a couple times while I was here but I thought it was a real person, you know, walking the hallways, out in the courtyard, down at the cove. I just assumed…”
Jordan hooted with laughter. “That’s our Scott. He gets around.”
“How can you laugh about it? When I got to work this morning Isabella did the same thing. She wanted to know what was bothering me. When I told her, she said Scott appeared to her like it was no big deal. She told me the whole story. How you were married to Scott when he left for Iraq. How you’re now married to his best friend. Isabella was the first one of you who actually used the word ‘ghost’ to describe Scott. You should know, I don’t believe in this kind of stuff.”
Eastlyn followed Jordan into the kitchen where Nick, was indeed cleaning up the dishes. He caught the last bit of the conversation. “Then how do you explain what you saw with your own eyes? Tell me that.”
“I need glasses? My vision’s always been twenty/twenty but I guess now that I’m getting older…” Her voice trailed off knowing she could still see just fine. “I don’t know.”
“Scott brought me here, to this town, to this place, to this woman,” Nick said. “Without Scott’s interference in my life I wouldn’t have all this.”
“What does that have to do with me? I’ve never even met Scott.”
“But neither had Isabella,” Jordan pointed out. “Want something to drink?”
“Iced tea would be fine.” Eastlyn stuck her hands in her back pockets, wandered around the room in a nervous stride designed to buy her some time to think. “Maybe you guys should start at the beginning. Cord said that the reason you made the drive to Bakersfield in the first place is to bring me back—at Scott’s request.”
“I’ll fix you a plate and Nick will tell you everything.”
Over savory chicken and mashed potatoes Nick explained what happened. “I used to see Scott all the time. These days, not so much, unless he has something specific to say. Having said that, about two months ago I got up at two a.m. to let the dog out, and there he was standing right over there in the corner of the kitchen. We stayed up until four a.m. talking about you.”
“Me? That doesn’t make sense.”
“I admit in all these years I hadn’t bothered to give the pilot who flew me to a hospital that day, a second thought. After all, if it wasn’t for you…” Nick’s voice trailed off giving him time to compose his thoughts and emotions. “I was kept alive during what the medics call the ‘golden hour,’ that dangerous period after a life-threatening injury when they can’t stop the bleeding and shock sets in.”
She’d certainly heard of the golden hour. She’d lost her share of soldiers during the ride, those whose injuries were so severe they hadn’t made it through that window to reach the hospital in time to get treatment.
“You were lucky,” Eastlyn finally uttered.
“I won’t argue with that assessment. But when the stars align and you live through something like that, you better pay attention, correct the things in your life that have gone wrong. You realize that same luck needs to be spread around to others. Scott told me you were in trouble. Ben did the recon. We cooked up this idea that he would go to Bakersfield to scout out a job. While he was there, he found out that what Scott said was true. I had to make a decision. Drive there myself to bring you back or let you spiral further downward.”
“Why bring Cord along?”
“Because we did the exact same thing with Cord. And this time Cord wanted to be a part of it. It was his choice, despite what he told you. Scott didn’t have to twist his arm or haunt him by rattling around chains until we got to Bakersfield.”
Eastlyn smiled. “I see. So Scott likes to save people from themselves.”
“Something like that.”
“Last night Scott knew things about me most people wouldn’t know. In fact, he said I was here to help someone else. Bringing me here wasn’t about me. Any clue what he meant?”
Nick shook his head. “Get used to Scott’s vagueness.”
“That’ll get annoying real quick,” Eastlyn proclaimed. “Scott also said something big was about to happen. You’re the town banker. You have your pipeline into everything that happens in this town. So what do you think Scott’s talking about?”
“I honestly have no idea.” Nick tossed a glance at Jordan. “What about you?”
Jordan frowned. “I guess Scott wouldn’t be referring to the fact that the Memorial Day parade is coming together or that his daughter is about to complete her first year of school.”
Jordan tilted her head to study Eastlyn. “No doubt you fit into the grand scheme of things. You’re here so that you’ll be a critical part of whatever it is that’s about to happen.”
Eastlyn’s face showed her disappointment with that assessment and Jordan added, “Sorry. But you already know that none of us have the kind of prescient ability Scott does.”
“No offense but Cord says you guys are supposed to be the experts.”
Nick chuckled. “That’s news to us. We’re usually as much in the dark as the rest of the town, although you could go talk to Wade Hawkins, the retired history professor. He’s done so much research that he’s written a book about Scott.”
Jordan chortled with laughter. “Everyone in town bought a copy when it came out last January. Wade even held a book signing at Hayden’s bookstore last month. If you don’t have the time to look him up I’ll let you have my copy. It’s actually informative.”
Jordan scooted around the table and disappeared into the dining room. While she was out of the room, Eastlyn stared at Nick and held up her index finger. “Don’t even suggest I should thank you for dragging me to the Outer Limits otherwise known as Pelican Pointe.”
Undaunted with her outlook, Nick deadpanned, “Tsk, tsk, such an attitude. And to think, you haven’t even seen the plot twist at the end yet.”
“Yeah. Exactly. That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Four
It was never a good thing when the cops showed up at your door at six a.m., especially on a Saturday.
Eastlyn peered through the peephole to see Brent Cody standing on her little stoop. She glanced down at what she wore. She hadn’t even had time to dress for work yet. Coffee in hand, still wearing a tank top and pajamas, she flung open the door.
“If this is a raid you’ll be mighty disappointed in what you find inside. The strongest drug in this house is ibuprofen, and maybe a shot of espresso.”
Her attitude made Brent grin. “Not a morning person. I’ll definitely log that into my book. I wouldn’t mind the espresso, though. Sorry to stop by so early but I needed to catch you before you headed out to the lighthouse.”
“Half a day for me today.”
“Still grinding away at the dirt?”
“Almost got it done. What’s up?”
“The authorities in Kern County wanted me to ask you about Durke Pedasco.”
“Oh, for God’s sakes. Come on in. Durke was never an informant if that’s what this is about.”
“Durke’s gone missing, Eastlyn.”
Eastlyn lowered her cup. “Define missing?”<
br />
“I mean, he left a bar called Hotshots four weeks ago and hasn’t been seen since. His employer said he didn’t pick up his last paycheck and that Durke’s not at his apartment. The landlord says Durke disappeared without paying the rent. In fact, Durke’s belongings were boxed up, things like his cell phone, clothes, personal items. His boss checked with his parents, discovered they’d filed a missing persons report. What can you tell me about Durke Pedasco that might help the police locate him? Do you have any idea where he might be?”
She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. But she was far from unconcerned. Gathering her thoughts, she finally thought of something that might help. “Durke’s parents own a cabin about an hour and a half outside Bakersfield off Highway 178. He’s been known to go up there to get away. But his parents surely checked the cabin for themselves. And if Durke had gone there, he’d definitely call them so they wouldn’t worry.”
Brent took out a small notebook where he’d jotted down what the Kern County sheriff had shared with him. “His parents are Shirleen and Dale Novack.”
“That’s not quite true. Shirleen, yes, but Dale Novack is Durke’s stepfather.”
“Problems there?”
“Not really. Shirleen waited years to remarry. Durke gets along well enough with Dale as far as I know.”
“Are you sure you haven’t been in touch with him since you got out of rehab?”
“The last text message I got from him was just before that, maybe a few days. After that, I’ve heard nothing. It occurred to me that Durke might be upset because I left without saying goodbye. Come to think of it, I did send him an email but never got a reply.”
“What exactly is your relationship to him?” Brent asked, sending her a determined look.
She gave him a long stare.
He dropped the cop angle. “I have to ask these questions, Eastlyn. It could be the difference in locating him or not.”
She let out an extended sigh and plopped on the couch. “Okay. You’re right. Durke’s a lifelong friend. We grew up together. He lived one block over from me. His dad walked out when he was eight, my mom died when I was nine. So we helped each other through some really rough times over the years. I guess I’d describe him as my best friend.”
“Boyfriend?”
Eastlyn ran a hand through her rumpled hair. “It’s too early to walk down memory lane like this. But, if Durke’s gone missing… I want to help find him. Look, we tried the boyfriend girlfriend thing. High school stuff. So yes, Durke’s a former lover, an ex, many years in the past.” She stood up, rubbed her hands on her thighs. “If I’m under the gun here, answering questions like this, I’ll need another cup of coffee. Want some?”
“Sure. Did Durke have a drug problem, too?”
Eastlyn scowled into her cup on the way into her tiny kitchen. “You mean like I did? Durke’s problems happened ten years ago when I was squeaky clean and in the military. Mine was…well, you know, more recent. I helped him fight his demons, he helped me through mine.”
“By selling you prescription drugs?”
She whirled on the cop. “That’s not what happened at all. Durke was no dealer or informant. I don’t how that rumor ever got started. I should know. I went to Durke the night before I headed to rehab. I went there to plead for anything Durke might have on hand, not as a dealer, but from his own personal medicine cabinet, not to buy it, but to beg. Do you understand what I mean?”
Brent nodded. “I think I get the picture.”
“I was desperate. Durke had been to the oral surgeon a couple weeks before to get a root canal done. I knew the dentist had given him Vicodin for the pain. But Durke refused to give me anything at all. I left Hotshots empty-handed and decided I’d reached one more low point in my life. I needed to do something about it. When Durke called it a night at the bar, he showed up at the rooming house where I lived to help me get through the night so that I could check into rehab the next day.”
She caught the look on Brent’s face, took it for disdain, and added, “As a friend. Our relationship had been strictly platonic for years. The next morning I drove myself to a treatment facility called Caliente Hills at the base of the Sequoia National Forest—beautiful spot, but it was no weekend spa. The counselors were tough, tougher than the other places I’d tried, different than all the rest I’d been to. They forced me to face all the hows and whys of my life so I could better focus on the main goal—getting myself off the pills. I think they might’ve given me that kick in the ass I needed to stay clean. Then when I got out that day, I went back to the boarding house, and there you guys were—standing there to drag me back here. That’s the truth of it.”
“Did Durke have a significant other?”
“He’d recently broken up with a woman. They’d only been dating for about six months though.” She rattled off a name.
“Could you give me directions on how to get to this cabin?”
“Sure. And Brent? Could you keep me posted with updates?”
“Absolutely.”
Layne’s Trains shared a dumpster and an alleyway directly across from the animal clinic.
That night when Cooper took the trash out after closing up his shop, he spotted Eastlyn outside sitting on her little porch. She looked so forlorn that he decided to wander over and see what was wrong.
On approach, he heard Shostakovich's Symphony No. 5 soaring from inside the bungalow. Well into the movement on the track known as Largo, Cooper recognized the familiar weeping violin and cello in harmony with the flutes and piccolos.
“From your choice of music, you look like you just lost your best friend,” he said as he took a seat on the steps.
“I just may have,” she muttered before telling him about Durke’s disappearance.
Cooper’s face showed immediate empathy. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“Not your problem. So you’re no fan of Shostakovich?”
“On the contrary, this is one of the most moving and brilliant pieces. From the peppered rhythm to the burst of finish that says he’s mocking the politics of his time, Shostakovich slams you straight into the despair and hopelessness of the Soviet people.”
Eastlyn lifted a brow. “Despair? You picked up on that as though it’s something you’ve known firsthand.”
“We could start a club. But I doubt we could charge admission. I get listening to classical music but why Shostakovich?”
“It’s usually the one piece that matches up with all my different moods at one time or another. Did you know Northwestern University did a study that said Shostakovich was the one composer whose music helped get patients suffering from depression through their ordeal the best?”
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised. His music has a way of reaching into the soul and pulling out a hunger and a desire to overcome whatever anguish is there. Never underestimate the power of music.”
She tilted her head to study him. “I like the way you think.”
“Mind if I ask you something?”
Her study turned into an irritated stare. “I guess. As long as it isn’t some silly notion that I worked as an exotic dancer back in Bakersfield.”
“Ah, I was wondering if you’d heard that rumor.”
“Abby Anderson asked me about it two seconds after I rented this place. For a marine biologist Abby’s not shy about sharing what she knows. She said she heard it from some woman named Myrtle Pettibone. Imagine that picture, me as a stripper. The strip joint would have to be pretty hard up to hire a woman who wears a prosthetic. Not to mention the fact that I’m way too old for such a ridiculous job.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. If you’re old then so am I.”
“When men age they’re viewed as distinguished. They grow old gracefully, women, not so much. Some days I already feel like the good days are behind me and I’m facing down middle age with a pitchfork in my hand.”
That brought a chuckle out of him. “I’d planned to warn you to watch out for Myrtle, the woman�
��s a pistol. In fact, she often packs one, so beware. But now I’m thinking we should all watch out for the newcomer with the lethal pitchfork.”
Eastlyn’s temperament morphed into a teasing tone. “Anyway, she has a crush on you.”
“Myrtle or Abby?”
“No, silly. Abby.” Eastlyn cracked a grin. “Hmm, for all I know maybe Myrtle has one, too. You’re a popular guy, Cooper Richmond.”
“Ah. No wonder Abby’s forever coming into the shop. Did she tell you she has a crush on me?”
“She didn’t have to. The first time I met her, Abby went on and on about Cooper Richmond for a solid fifteen minutes.”
Cooper looked as though lightning had come down from the heavens and struck him in the head. “I’ve never once encouraged her. She’s a nice girl, but… I have no interest in Abby.”
“Why not? She’s blonde, beautiful, has a sunny disposition, and loves animals. Cord tells me when she finished her grad school she stayed in Pelican Pointe even though she could’ve had her pick of places to work. She passed on San Diego’s Sea World and the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Maybe you’re the reason.”
“But she’s what? Ten years younger than I am?”
“Age is merely a state of mind. Anyway, I promised Abby, the girl with the major crush on you, that I’d make it over to the Fanning Marine Rescue Center so she could give me the tour. So who’s nosier, Myrtle or Abby?”
“Now that I think about it, both. Between the two, they cover one end of the generation gap to the other. Although, I think Myrtle must have special radar that Abby lacks.” He paused as if he wanted to change the subject.
“You did say you wanted to ask me something.”
“I’m curious. When you flew for the army what was your call sign?”
“Well, that came from left field.” She cracked a smile at the memory. “Zerker.” When she noticed his face contorted in confusion, she added, “It’s short for berserker.”
The bafflement disappeared replaced by a wide curve of lips. “You mean like the fierce Viking warrior? Those berserkers?”
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