Lavender Beach

by Vickie McKeehan

  Brent gunned the engine on the Tahoe and veered toward the pier. He pulled up behind the Tundra, quickly blocking the vehicle and preventing it from backing up.

  With the Toyota now boxed in, Brent hit the Tahoe’s red, white, and blue lights visible on the grill about the same time Titus Driscoll took a step toward the dock to load his boat.

  Brent got out on one side, Eastlyn the other. They walked to where Titus stood near the wharf. Eastlyn stationed herself next to Brent, her hand resting on her weapon.

  “What’d I do wrong?” Driscoll wanted to know as he started to get edgy. “What’s this all about?”

  “Whatcha got there, Titus?” Brent asked. “What’s in the bags?”

  “This?” Titus held up the white plastic trash sacks he carried in both hands, shifted his feet. “This is just a bunch of old batteries I had, I was taking them out to dump in the water.”

  “Hmm, do you believe that, Chief? That’s a violation right there,” Eastlyn said.

  Titus started to look relieved. It even allowed him a brief attempt at humor. “Chief, that’s funny. You know, because you’re Indian, uh, Native American. You’re also the Chief of Police, so it, you know, it’s funny that she’d call you Chief.”

  Brent’s face didn’t show he thought it humorous or ironic. “Officer Parker, you want to get a look at what Mr. Driscoll is holding in his trash bags.”

  “Yes, sir.” Eastlyn stepped forward and relieved Titus of one of the sacks. She stood back, untwisted the tie to peer inside. She saw sandwich-sized Baggies containing an off-white crystal substance, doled out in smaller quantities. Eastlyn unzipped one and sniffed the contents. “The odor’s a dead giveaway. I’d say what we have here is medium-quality gravel.”

  Eastlyn took out her handcuffs. “Mr. Driscoll, I’m afraid we have good news and bad news.”

  “What do you mean?” Titus asked, ever hopeful it was all a big joke. Even as he felt the metal wrap around his wrists, he still looked dumbfounded that he’d been caught.

  Eastlyn smiled at the dealer. “You were speeding through town. But this is your lucky day. We’re gonna waive that speeding ticket for you. That’s the good news. The bad news is we’re charging you with violating California penal code HS 1-1-3-7-8, felony possession of methamphetamines with intent to distribute.”

  Titus looked stricken. “But… I go out on my boat every single day. I don’t sell anything in town. I sell it out on the water.”

  Brent’s face went hard, his eyes narrowed into slits. “You think that makes it okay? I’ve ID’d your contacts, Titus. And with your record, you’re going away for a long time. Read him his rights. I really don’t want to look at him any longer than I have to.”

  “Yes sir,” Eastlyn said as she led Titus to the Tahoe.

  “But what did I do wrong?” Titus asked Eastlyn. “I never sold the stuff in town. Judd explained it to me. He said it was okay as long I used my boat. He said I wouldn’t be breaking any laws that way.”

  As Eastlyn stuffed him into the backseat, she shook her head and let out a laugh. “This is just a guess on my part, Mr. Driscoll. But I think all this time, Judd might’ve been lying to you.”

  At two p.m. on the dot, they repeated the teamwork as they moved through McCready’s. Brent went through the door first while Eastlyn followed him inside as backup.

  Eastlyn watched a somber Brent stand at the end of the long mahogany bar waiting for Flynn to notice his presence. Brent stood shoulders back, draped his thumbs through the loops of his jeans and stared down the owner.

  “How’s it going there, Flynn? You’ve met my new officer, Eastlyn Parker, haven’t you?”

  Flynn’s eyes darted about and he started to act nervous. “Not officially, no.”

  “Hmm, maybe that’s because you have a bad habit of staying away from town hall meetings. I wonder why that is?”

  Flynn’s face twitched with unease. “I run a business where I’m open seven days a week. The times you guys decide to get together usually coincide with me full up with customers.”

  “Fair enough. I think I can fix that for you. Mind telling me how long your bar has been part of Judd Thorwald’s crystal meth business? Maybe you could tell me why you thought you could do it practically under my nose since my house is right across the street? How long have you been using this place as a front for Thorwald’s Pelican Pointe connection?”

  Taken aback by the accusation, Flynn put his hands on the wooden counter. “Now wait a minute. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I swear I don’t. I’ve had your back a time or two, Brent Cody. You’ve known me a long time to make that kind of accusation.”

  “It’s because of those two things—the times you’ve had my back and the fact that I took my first drink in here—that I’m standing here giving you a chance to tell me the truth, man to man. So don’t come at me with a bunch of BS.”

  “I am telling you the truth.”

  Brent sighed. “So that’s the way you want to play it. Okay. You were seen taking money from Titus Driscoll. We both know Titus is one of Thorwald’s longtime drug runners. You’ve let Titus use your bar to set up drug dealers for Judd. They come in here to play pool, end up recruited by Titus to be one of Thorwald’s distributors. The question is for how long? How long have you been doing this? I already know Titus Driscoll takes his boat out on the bay daily where he meets up offshore with the dealers. He distributes the meth from his boat, takes the money and brings it back onshore. That’s when Titus makes his first stop in here right after he docks the boat. Why does Titus take the time to do that? Titus comes in to drop off your share before heading out to Thorwald’s compound where Titus takes his share, leaving the bigger cut for Thorwald. If you aren’t part of the whole mix then why take drug money from Titus Driscoll?”

  Eastlyn saw Flynn swallow hard.

  Without warning, Brent came around the other side of the bar and slapped the handcuffs on Flynn himself. “You’re under arrest for knowing and aiding in the manufacture of methamphetamines and for helping Driscoll move it through my town.”

  He dragged Flynn around the front of the bar and plopped his butt down to sit in a chair. “You listen to me and listen good. There are children living within Thorwald’s compound, not fifty feet from where his lab cooks the meth. You ever witnessed what a lab does when it explodes? It’s a hellish nightmare. Just one wrong mix of chemicals and you get a massive fire that puts those kids at risk every day it’s in operation.”

  Brent took a seat in one of the other chairs to meet Flynn at eye level. “There’s something else. Did you ever have an affair with Eleanor Jennings Richmond?”

  “What? No.”

  “Are you sure about that? Is that the answer you want to stick to? Because Eleanor tells a very different story about the night Layne Richmond and Brooke Caldwell died. She says you two were not only having a hot and heavy affair, but it was your idea to kill her husband. It was just Brooke’s bad luck that she was at the pier that night. In fact, Eleanor says you’re the one who pulled the trigger. Brooke was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time, sort of like collateral damage.”

  Flynn went pale. His chest began to heave hard. His breathing became labored. “No way did I have anything to do with those murders. Eleanor was acting all crazy back then. We did have a fling going on at the time but that’s all it was to me, a fling. I did not have anything to do with Layne’s or Brooke’s death. I swear it.”

  “Like you swore just now you didn’t know anything about Thorwald’s meth operation. You mean like that? Is it possible two months after the fact that you watched as Eleanor abandoned her kids in the middle of the bay?”

  Flynn’s eyes grew wide. “What? No. I had nothing to do with that. By then our affair was over. She wasn’t even talking to me then.”

  Sensing he might have the advantage, Brent played his trump card. “Okay, so maybe now you’ll tell me everything you know about Thorwald’s operation. Start at the beginning.”
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  “Okay, okay. I got paid to turn the other way while Titus used the bar as a place to make contact with new buyers. You have that right.”

  Brent looked at his recruit. “Eastlyn, what’s the penalty in this state for willingly knowing about and assisting in the operation of a meth lab the size Thorwald runs?”

  “I think we can arrange for Flynn to spend up to five years in Tehachapi.”

  “Hear that, Flynn. Up to five years in one of the worst prisons that California has to offer. Would you be willing to testify to what you know in order to put Thorwald and Titus away?”

  “If it’ll get me out of the mess I’ve made? Absolutely.”

  “Good. Officer Parker?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Read our friend here his Miranda rights.”

  Business had picked up inside Layne’s Trains. For a summer day it seemed to Cooper that the steady stream through the door was mostly curious kids. Not a problem for him since he loved answering the questions they asked about the different train sets.

  While a few were there to buy various pieces to add to their collection, most just wanted to browse and pass the time. There were older ones who begged for a look at the radio-controlled cars he kept in stock. To a kid, you were never too old and it was never too early to start their Christmas wish list.

  That’s why the holidays were on his mind when Cooper looked up and saw Jonathan Matthews standing inside the doorway. His first thought was the man looked out of place among all the kids. There was something about his demeanor though that signaled a more sinister problem. Matthews gripped a small silver pistol in his left hand.

  Cooper’s first thought was to get the kids out of the store. But how? He reached under the counter where he kept the store phone, dialed 911.

  “What are you doing in my store, Jonathan? There’s nothing for you here. I told you that already.”

  “You won’t listen to your mother. Eleanor keeps trying to tell you the truth about what happened. But you won’t listen. I’m here to make sure you listen.”

  Cooper realized trying to reason with this man and use any kind of logic would be a waste of time. After all, he’d tried once before and believed he’d gotten through only to realize now the man probably needed psychiatric care.

  Cooper eyed the little gun and saw Jonathan’s hands shaking, watched as his eyes darted in skittish fashion around the store. “How do you intend to make me listen?”

  Matthews jerked the gun around. “You’re coming with me to see our mother. Now.”

  Through the plate-glass window Cooper saw Eastlyn and then Brent make their way to the front door and stand on either side of it.

  Eastlyn motioned that she wanted Cooper to lead Matthews outside onto the sidewalk just before she ducked to the right out of sight. That meant she had that side covered while Brent waited to the left of the door.

  Cooper held up his hands. “Okay. I’ll go with you but don’t hurt the kids.”

  “I don’t want to hurt anybody. I just want you to go with me so you can finally know the truth.”

  “The truth, huh? Are you driving? Where are you parked?” Cooper asked and started toward the front door. But Matthews had other ideas.

  “I’m parked around back.”

  Cooper panicked a little, but hoped like hell either Eastlyn or Brent had thought to cover the alleyway. He changed direction, drifted through the store to the rear. Turning the knob, he flung the door back and took a couple of steps outside in front of Matthews. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a shadow to his right.

  “Come on, move,” Matthews demanded as he shoved Cooper forward. “My car’s the blue BMW parked by the dumpster. Now move!”

  “I don’t think so,” Eastlyn said quietly as she held the Beretta to the back of Matthews’ head. “Drop the weapon. Now. Because I have no problem shooting you, none at all.”

  Matthews tossed the silver .22 and it clanked on the concrete.

  For the second time that day, Eastlyn took out her handcuffs. “And to think I thought this was a peaceful little town. Is it always like this?”

  She looked directly at Cooper. “Whatever happened to me thinking this was Mayberry?”

  Thirty-Two

  There was something warm and settling that moved through the soul at knowing the one you loved was waiting for you at the end of the day.

  It was a new kind of feeling for both of them.

  They walked hand in hand along the beach, the sun blocked from view as it made its drop somewhere over the horizon. The sky, hazy with low-hanging clouds, spit misty drops that made little splats on the jackets they wore.

  Eastlyn shivered and burrowed closer into Coop. “With the wind, it sure doesn’t feel like summer.”

  “I’m from the Bay Area you get used to the chilly summer nights there. You know what Mark Twain said about San Francisco, don’t you? ‘The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.’ That about sums up why you never wore shorts to a ballgame at the old Candlestick Park.”

  “You’re just full of information.”

  “Did I tell you how amazing you were yesterday?”

  “About a dozen times. I’m just glad you called 911 when you did and didn’t try to take him on with all the kids in the shop.”

  “Do I look stupid to you?”

  “You look windblown,” she said jabbing him in the ribs with a finger.

  “What will happen to Flynn?”

  She toed a small rock considering that. “He’s already started singing like a baby sparrow. More than likely he’ll take a plea deal and serve six months in county.”

  “What will happen to the bar?”

  “Beats me. For now, it’s closed up tight.”

  “You know, happy hour should move to The Pointe. I’ve told Perry if he’d just drop his prices a tad he could make it all up in volume.”

  Eastlyn chuckled with laughter. “Perry should listen to you. You’ve probably already run the numbers for him.”

  “Come on, we’d better start back. Looks like the rain’s coming down harder,” Cooper suggested.

  But new plant growth, sprouting through the sandy soil, caught her eye. She went over to inspect the crop, kneeled down to brush her hand over the tops of the purple lavender that had found its way through the dirt. “Cooper, look at this. The lavender’s taken over what used to be River’s archaeological site. Some of the seeds I planted from the cliff must’ve drifted down here to the beach and taken root. By fall it’ll be all over this stretch.”

  He pulled her into his arms. “You did this, Eastlyn. Look around you. You’ve created your own lavender beach. What was it you suggested, for the town to hold its first annual lavender festival? I think there’s a good chance you could pull it off.”

  “I’d certainly have enough people who’d volunteer to help. The question is do you think the town can withstand one more carnival-like atmosphere next August? Because that’s when I figure the plants will be ready for a major harvest.”

  “I think you should go for it. Wally called the house before you got home. He’s located an engine in San Jose. He and Thane plan to pick it up this weekend. I plan to ask Caleb to watch the store and go with them. Too bad you have to work.”

  “Don’t rub it in.” She finally stopped walking in the rain and turned to face him with rain dripping down her face. “Can you live with a pilot, Cooper? Can you live with me being a cop? Because I’ve got the life back that I want, the one I think I was meant to have all along. Then there’s the fact that I’m in love with you. I think I was meant to have you in my life. And to tell you the truth, I don’t want to mess this up anymore. Because I love you.”

  “It’ll take some time for me to get that image out of my head, the one where you’re holding a gun to that guy’s head. Would you really have blown him away?”

  “You bet I would have.”

  His face mirrored hers. “Then each day I’ll be grateful you took him down without firin
g a shot. I’ll learn to live with you strapping on a gun. And married to a pilot? Are you kidding? I want that ride over Pelican Pointe that you promised me.”

  Epilogue

  Four months later

  North of Pelican Pointe

  Eastlyn sat at the controls of the upgraded, renovated Bell copter and checked the brand-new vertical instrumentation panel. She glanced out the window onto the tarmac of the helipad Thane and Logan had built north of town. Even though nightfall loomed, it would be a clear November night for flying.

  Since the aircraft would make plenty of flights over water, it carried flotation gear, in addition to medical kits, and survival equipment for search and rescue operations. If necessary two litters could also be installed for transporting injured passengers to a hospital.

  “Sioux one-niner to Sky Park requesting takeoff,” Eastlyn said into her headset as she waited for ground clearance.

  “Sioux one-niner cleared for takeoff via direct to Smuggler’s Bay. Climb and maintain four thousand feet.”

  “Roger that. Sioux one-niner straight out departure for mini run to Smuggler’s Bay,” Eastlyn repeated. She revved the engine, lifted off. As the polished blue and white bird climbed into the sky, she yelled out, “This is for you, Pop, wherever you are!”

  “This is so cool,” Cooper hollered over the blade noise. He watched her in the pilot’s seat, saw the absolute joy on her face as she took a southern route along the coast. “You’re absolutely knock-out beautiful right now.”

  “You need glasses,” she said with a grin.

  “I got a text from Drea before we took off. She says half the town is lined up back at the pier waiting for you to give them a ride.”

  “We should do that for a fundraiser, you know, down the road. I could take them up and out over the water. The bubble canopy makes a perfect observation deck.” To prove her point, she glanced up at the night sky. “Look at that view. With you sitting next to me it seems like we’re dancing with the moon right now.”