Lavender Beach

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Like any good cop on patrol, I saw you pull up at the church. Pete Alden founded those AA meetings there on Sunday afternoons. Those meetings go back two decades. It’s not exactly top secret they take place every Sunday.”

  “Hmm, likely story. I’m still in though. I’ll let everyone think I’m still struggling with the pills. Also I might as well pretend I’m strung out enough to pick up any job I can find. But I draw the line at working the weedy lots around town collecting aluminum cans to recycle and turn in for cash. I’d like to keep a little of my dignity intact, if you don’t mind.”

  Brent finally smiled. “It won’t come to that. I promise.”

  “Famous last words.”

  “Just remember, we’re going after a very bad guy, dangerous, who we suspect is the area’s major supplier of crystal meth.”

  “Frankly, I never understood the draw to the stuff. I knew a guy in the army who had a problem with that crap before they kicked him out. It’s a nasty habit. But I can certainly play the part with a little help from ivory pancake makeup and a few dark circles under my eyes. Dab a few imperfections here and there on my face, a few splotches to make it look real and I’m certain I’ll look the part.”

  Brent parked his butt on the opposite end of the bench, cast her a quizzical frown. “We’re not to that point yet. The first time you go out there it’s for recon, not a dress up role-playing scenario or a fake buy, not yet anyway. We’re going to do this my way or not at all. What do you know about the synthetic-made drug known as gravel?”

  “Just what I’ve read on the Internet. It looks like pebbles, or rock candy. It can be snorted, smoked, or injected, and it’s deadly stuff.”

  “It causes delirium, paranoia, and violent behavior. That’s before the body temperature spikes as high as a hundred and five and then the kidneys begin to shut down.”

  “You think the Thorwalds are cooking gravel?”

  “I do. Bran and Joy Sullivan have reported problems near the spread they bought for their horses.”

  “I wondered if you’d bring that up. I’m thinking the Thorwalds or their friends are likely the culprits trying to intimidate Joy and Bran. Did you know they tried to get help from the county?”

  “I’m aware of it. I’ve reported it in an official capacity to the sheriff’s office.” Brent pulled out a map from his back pocket and pointed to the area between Pelican Pointe and the nearby town of San Sebastian.

  “The Sullivans live here and the compound is a short two klicks from their house. Bran’s complaint described high traffic in and around this region. According to Bran, people come and go at all hours of the day and night.”

  He chewed the inside of his jaw. “There’s something else. There were five cases last winter within a two-month time period at San Sebastian High School that involved gravel. My suspicion grows when Bran tells me traffic on the road leading to the compound is high school kids. That leads me to believe Judd Thorwald is the gravel supplier. I think Judd picked up where Harley Edgecombe left off. I think Thorwald’s taken over Harley’s thriving meth trade with a few upgrades.”

  “Just tell me when you want me to go in.”

  “You understand this is a recon mission? I want you to scope out the area. That’s it for now, nothing more than gathering data we use to formulate a plan for down the road. Understood?”

  “I got it.”

  “Slip in, slip out, without drawing any attention to yourself. Promise me that, or the deal’s off.”

  “That’s the goal. When do you want it to happen?”

  “Friday night. You’ll have to make your way through the woods to get as close as you can to the compound. I’ve drawn you a detailed map to use and noted markers to follow along the way. Under no circumstances should you try to breach the perimeter. Gain intel by taking photos of any license plates in the area and make notes of any pertinent information we could use to make a case in court. And that’s it, Eastlyn. No going in to approach any individual, or make a buy or make contact with any of the Edgecombes or Thorwalds. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, I got it. And if they should catch me, I pretend I’m a druggie looking for a score. How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not that dense. I got it. Now stop worrying about me. I was in the army for goodness sakes. I know how to do recon.”

  Brent ran a hand through his black hair. “Then why am I already regretting this? Look, I don’t care what time you get in Friday night, I want you to call me. If I don’t hear from you I’m coming in after you. I won’t sleep until I know you’re safe.”

  “Yes, Dad, I’ll be sure to do that.”

  Brent stood up, pointed to the map he had spread out on his lap. “Let’s go over the plan one more time just to make sure you have the lay of the land.”

  Eastlyn whooshed out a loud sigh. “With all your thoroughness, you and my unit commander might be twins—the way you think and strategize reminds me a lot of him.”

  “That’s because when it comes to warfare—and make no mistake this is similar to a combat operation—there’s no such thing as being over-prepared.”

  “Funny, that was his mindset, too.”

  “And under no circumstances do you tell anyone about this. It gets out you’re working for me undercover and your safety could be compromised.”

  “Undercover sounds so official.” She practically whispered the statement. It ran through her head at that moment just how upset Cooper would be if he found out. The word betrayal popped into her head. She had to remind herself that this was a job now. It never occurred to her to break her promise to Brent and confide in Cooper about the operation.

  Determined to keep this to herself, she’d have to practice discretion and tap-dance around the subject if it came up again.

  Brent must have seen the hesitation or maybe the measure of doubt in her eyes because when she looked up at him, Eastlyn saw his inquisitive stare.

  “It isn’t too late to back out. If you want to change your mind, now’s the time to speak up.”

  She shook her head. “No, not at all, I’m committed.”

  But after Brent left her alone, guilt took over. She felt like a traitor to Cooper, especially knowing how he felt about her even mentioning the compound.

  Under a layer of hazy clouds, she set out to wander among the headstones looking for one in particular.

  She’d almost given up when she came across the right one. Bending down to read the inscription, she noted its simple words and unassuming style.

  David Scott Phillips

  Beloved Husband and Father

  Died In Service to His Country

  Like the plaque at the park in town, this modest marker stood as a reminder that life was too damned hard, too damned short, and sometimes too damned unfair.

  Scott stood over to the side watching Eastlyn’s eyes. “Going around once is why you want to make sure you make it count.”

  Eastlyn fought for a stoic front. “That’s the truth of it. You’ll get no argument out of me.”

  “Wow, that’s a first. What’s the matter, Parker, getting soft?”

  “Maybe. I feel like a heel.”

  “Yeah, you’re making a mistake by not telling Cooper. Keeping the new job a secret will cause problems down the road. But you already know that.”

  “It’s undercover,” she pointed out in defiance. “Brent said…”

  “You keep telling yourself that. You’re following Brent’s instructions to the letter. You keep reminding yourself of that.”

  “Then why do I feel bad about it?”

  “You’ll have to figure that one out on your own.”

  “Straight answers aren’t your forte, are they? I’d get better results dialing up 1-800-Psychic.”

  “You want to know what the future holds? Go get a pack of tarot cards. All I know for certain is that any type of dishonesty in a relationship comes back to bite you in the ass, eventually. But you’re gonna do what you want anyway. You don’t need me to tell you what
’s right or wrong.”

  Eastlyn sent him a glare. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

  “Right back atcha.”

  Twenty

  The same Friday night Eastlyn had agreed to go out to the compound, she and Cooper had been invited to a party at Julianne and Ryder’s place. The couple had opened up the house dubbed Sandcastle Cottage to friends and family with the lure that a big announcement was coming.

  Eastlyn had done her best to get out of going. But what excuse could she use when Cooper would’ve wanted to know why?

  So at seven-thirty she stood ready and waiting for Cooper to swing by and pick her up.

  When she opened the door, she saw the stunned look on his face at the outfit she’d chosen.

  Cooper eyed the vision as she stood radiant and regal in a sleeveless lace dress the color of soft lilac embroidery. The empire bodice set off her waist while the flare of the skirt showed off her lanky frame.

  “You just get more beautiful every time I lay eyes on you,” Cooper declared and meant it.

  “The other day I spent some time with Julianne in her little shop. I had a good run. She has the most amazing inventory of outfits and jewelry to my liking and taste. You just don’t find that any ol’ place.”

  “You look good in that color.”

  “I do have a tendency to gravitate to shades of lavender, don’t I?” She glanced at her watch. “I didn’t hear your car.”

  “That’s because I walked over. It’s such a nice night for it. I figure if we have a drink or two at Ryder’s there’d be no worries about getting home. So do you mind if we walk?”

  She grinned and held up her foot. “No problem. See, I’m getting the hang of these heels like a supermodel.”

  “I noticed.” He took her hand, kissed the tips of her fingers.

  Outside the light waned. The half moon hung in the southern sky. Crickets sang their evening song. They made their way toward Ocean Street in silence until Cooper asked, “Is there a reason you left so early this morning?”

  She wondered if there was ever a good reason to lie and then slid into that role. “I had to meet Silas and Ben at the lighthouse.” It wasn’t quite the truth. Brent had wanted to go over the plan a second time so she’d had to sneak out without telling Coop the real reason.

  By the time they reached Sandcastle Cottage, the wind had changed direction. It felt as if a storm brewed somewhere off the coast.

  They saw festive lights hung around the porch and heard the swell of guitar riffs and piano chords coming from inside.

  Cooper took Eastlyn’s hand and led her through a jammed living room where the musicians, Malachi and Ross, had set up to play.

  Bumping into neighbors along the way to the kitchen where the bar was, they learned that since Memorial Day the two men had taken to jamming together to form a band of sorts.

  “When did Malachi and Ross decide to make a run at Simon and Garfunkel?” Cooper asked.

  Jill Campbell, her tawny face breaking into a grin, gave her husband a loving look. “Since the two found out they love to play the same kind of music. Besides, Malachi believes he needs to stay closer to home on the weekends. Better to keep an eye on his teenage girls. My Ross just needs to be able to play music now and again. Not many people know this but that man put himself through school playing the blues at a dive in downtown Chicago. There are probably still YouTube videos out there somewhere of his band.”

  “What would that be under?” Eastlyn asked, taking out her cell phone and using it to search the website.

  Jill grinned. “Hand that thing over here. I’ll find it faster than you ever will.”

  Eastlyn handed Jill the phone all the while tapping her right foot to a rendition of Layla. “They’re good.”

  “What are they calling themselves?” Cooper asked.

  Jill handed the phone back to Eastlyn with the display sending out Ross’s sound waves of cool jazz. “No name yet. They’re working on it though, sat up last night until midnight trying to think up one that works for both of them.”

  Bree and Troy came in, hands linked, all smiles.

  “Do you know what this party’s about?” Eastlyn wanted to know.

  Kinsey stood to the side eating a canapé. “Rumor has it Julianne’s pregnant.”

  Troy smiled knowingly as if he already knew. “I guess we’ll all have to wait for the surprise announcement.”

  Good music, good food, good friends put Eastlyn in mind of another time when she’d enjoyed the companionship of others in like social settings. She didn’t realize how much she’d missed that kind of fun until coming to Pelican Pointe.

  When Brent and River came through the door her good mood headed south, a reminder of what she still had to do later that night.

  Brent sent her a polite but distant look.

  Eastlyn ignored the cop, focusing instead on Cooper’s face—glad someone was enjoying the party as much as she was.

  Determined not to spoil the celebration, whatever it turned out to be, she elbowed Cooper in the ribs and nodded her head toward Abby Anderson who was flirting with Caleb. “It looks like you’ve lost the competition and the affections of a fan.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cooper claimed. “I don’t think is was me she was interested in at all but Caleb. She’s followed him around the room tonight—twice. I don’t think Abby was ever taken with me.”

  “Aww,” Eastlyn said, ruffling his hair like a kid. “Is that an ego buster? Obviously Abby came into your shop all those times to gain valuable intel on your brother through you.”

  “You think?”

  “Abby’s a Ph.D, a smart cookie. She knows how to scope out the goods to get to her intended target.”

  Wasn’t that what she meant to do at the compound tonight, scope out the goods? How did she intend to take care of that without Cooper finding out? Would she have to lie to prevent him from knowing where she planned to go?

  “Troy and I would like your undivided attention for a minute,” Ryder began.

  Ryder’s voice brought Eastlyn back to a cold reality. After all the conning she’d done to get Vicodin, deception didn’t come easy. At least, not when you were lying to someone you truly cared about.

  “Gather ’round, grab your champagne or drink of choice and prepare to be blown away,” Troy said, his voice rising in excitement.

  Eastlyn watched as Ryder gathered Julianne close and raised a glass of bubbly in the air. Those two had something special together. Eastlyn doubted Julianne would ever lie to Ryder.

  While her thoughts drifted toward dishonesty, Ryder went on, “We invited you here tonight because we have good news. We thought it was the best way to tell you all at one time. Plus, it gives Julianne a good reason to throw a party.”

  “Get to it, Ryder,” Julianne prompted with a smile. “Our guests are about to burst with curiosity. I’ve already dodged a dozen questions tonight that the party is about me being pregnant. I’m not, by the way.”

  Ryder grinned. “Okay, okay, I was trying to build up the suspense and draw it out as long as I could. As everyone probably knows by now, we’re a man short down at Tradewinds Boatyard. Zach’s having a rough time of it lately and Doc says it’s better if the guy takes some much-needed time off. While he’s getting better, Troy and I plan to carry on in his absence. In fact, just this past week, Tradewinds Boatyard landed a big endorsement from one of the yacht racing associations for outstanding craftsmanship.”

  The room broke into whoops of cheer.

  “But that’s not why we’re here. Troy and I want to announce Tradewinds Boatyard will be featured in Docks magazine’s August issue, a feat we think is pretty cool considering we’ve only been in business such a short time.”

  Everyone in the room toasted the good news as Troy stepped forward, beer held high. “And in the boatbuilding trade that’s practically unheard of. To get that kind of notice means Tradewinds Boatyard might be considered the new kid on the b
lock but the company’s made an impression on our constituents.”

  “That’s right,” Ryder said. “From now on, Tradewinds Boatyard is on its way to bigger and better things.”

  Bree leaned in, whispered to Cooper, “I so wish I could’ve gotten Zach to show up tonight. But he refused to come.”

  Empathy ran through Cooper. “You’re keeping an eye on him, right? It’ll be a while before he feels like his old self again.”

  “I’m trying. It’s a struggle every day. I have a new business to run just like Troy and Ryder. It’s the tourist season out at the bed and breakfast. Because of that I may have to get someone to stop in at Zach’s house every other day to make sure he’s taking his meds. The thing is Zach’s so temperamental, so easy to rile these days, he doesn’t trust strangers.”

  “Just be careful that he doesn’t slide further into mistrusting everyone around him,” Cooper cautioned. “But above all, make sure he doesn’t miss a dose of those meds.”

  Eastlyn and Cooper stayed another hour before calling it a night and heading home.

  As soon as they got outside, they noticed the change in the weather. The smell of rain was evident and a wall of fog drifted in from the north.

  On the walk down Ocean Street, Cooper took her hand. “What’s bothering you?”

  “Not a thing. It was a great evening. It’s good to help friends celebrate something important in their lives.”

  Her denial struck a chord with him. He’d seen the way she’d reacted when Brent had come into the room back at the party. Not only that, but she hadn’t wanted to go in the first place. “Whose place do we crash at tonight, yours or mine?”

  A wedge of panic lodged in her belly. If they spent the night at her place, what excuse would she use to sneak out of her own bed? If they went to his, he’d surely wake up at some point and wonder why she wasn’t there. If she intended to follow through with the plan, she had to change out of her dress and back into jeans. How could she do that without making the stop at her place? Maybe she should just pick a fight with him to get out of making the decision.