Pelican Pointe Boxed Set Books 1 - 3 (A Pelican Pointe Novel)

by Vickie McKeehan

  If Ethan had expected to see Hayden he was sorely disappointed. But then why would she show up? She hadn’t even known Taggert. He gave in to his curiosity and couldn’t help wondering what she was doing at that very moment. Like a kid in middle school, he thought miserably, focused on a woman with a mysterious past was never a good sign.

  He couldn’t help going back over the argument they’d had Saturday night. He was certain that she had talked about law enforcement as if she’d had dealings with them. And it hadn’t ended well. Of that he was certain.

  The fact she didn’t have a very high opinion of his profession was just one more reason to steer clear of Hayden-no-middle-initial-Ryan. Yeah, like that was going to happen. The woman had hit Sal Turley over the head without a backward glance because she thought he was in danger. Not many women would have the balls to do something like that. But then, Hayden was different than any of the women he’d known.

  For one thing, the enigma angle kept pulling him in. Whether he wanted to admit it or not he loved a good puzzle. Hayden, or whatever her name had been, was a challenge. For another, he couldn’t ignore his attraction to her. To do so, would be ridiculous on his part. That sleek body and green eyes were keeping him up nights. He shook his head at his own bad pun. Any decent writer should be able to come up with something better than that.

  When the choir began to sing the first chorus of Amazing Grace, it brought Ethan back in time to his grandmother’s funeral. Autumn Lassiter had lived to seventy and died peacefully in her sleep. Sometimes he thought he could still hear her voice, especially her singing. She’d always loved this song, he thought now.

  He wondered how it would feel to have Hayden opening a bookstore in his grandmother’s bungalow. Would she stick around Pelican Pointe for good if she started a business? Or would she take off at the first sign of trouble?

  And those questions were another reason he needed to keep his distance.

  After several more songs and a brief eulogy by Aaron Hartley, people started to file past the open casket for one final look at Edmund.

  At the sound of one of the double doors creaking open behind him, Ethan turned to look into the serious face of his brother, Brent. Ethan watched as he motioned for him to follow him outside.

  Once they were standing on the steps, Brent asked, “How’s it going in there?”

  “Good turnout. What’s up? You didn’t drive all the way from Santa Cruz to ask about Taggert’s funeral.”

  “Kent Springer didn’t show up for court this morning. Before coming here, I took a swing by the pier. His boat, Easy Money, is no longer moored in the bay.” He patted his breast pocket. “Got me a search warrant for his house here in Pelican Pointe.”

  Ethan scrubbed a hand over his chin. “So the bastard ran. I’m surprised he waited this long. What’s next?”

  “The judge issued a bench warrant for his arrest. I need you to go with me to Sissy Carr’s place over on Landing’s Bay. If anyone knows where he is, it’d be Sissy.”

  “What about the search warrant?”

  “I already have deputies tearing his house apart for a hint at where he’s headed.”

  Just as Ethan was about to crawl into the passenger seat of Brent’s cruiser, Frank Martin, second in command at the First Bank of Pelican Pointe came running up to the car. “Ethan, we’ve been robbed.”

  “Come on, Frank, settle down. The alarm didn’t even go off.”

  “There’s money missing from the bank, a lot of money, over and above what the feds were looking into with the fraud issue.”

  “Define a lot,” Ethan asked.

  “At least $600,000, maybe more. We just found out this morning when Milton Carr discovered the funds missing from his business account. It had to be an inside job. No one else had access to that money.”

  Brent and Ethan exchanged looks. It was Ethan who said, “Oh, that’s just perfect, six hundred grand missing, Kent’s boat no longer in the bay. Something tells me Sissy finally decided to put Pelican Pointe in her rearview mirror for good.”

  “You think Sissy lit out with Kent?”

  “I know her better than you do. That’s exactly what I think. She’s been looking for a way out of here for years.”

  “Okay. Then we get a search warrant for Sissy Carr’s house and hope like hell we find something that tells us where they’re both headed.”

  Aaron Hartley, Edmund’s lawyer, spotted Nick and Jordan Harris headed to their SUV. He made his way across the church parking lot and caught up with them just as they were about to get in. “If I could have a word with both of you.”

  “Sure,” Nick said. “I’m sorry you lost your friend, Mr. Hartley.”

  “Thanks for that. Such is the way of getting old I fear, you start losing people right and left. Before you know it you’re the only one left standing. As you well know, Ed could be a cantankerous cuss when it suited him. Knew his wife Ruby. Had the most beautiful golden hair I ever laid eyes on. She used to make the best sweet potato pies, too. Got the cancer in the breast. Died within seven months of getting the diagnosis. That was back in ’82. Ed never did quite get over losing his Ruby. Anyway, I was wondering if I could have a minute of your time?”

  “Do you want to talk right this minute or follow us out to the cove?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind I’d just as soon do it now. My house is two blocks over on Landings Bay. Just follow me home.”

  When Nick got settled behind the wheel, Jordan turned to him and asked, “What do you suppose he wants with us?”

  “I have no idea. But we’re about to find out.”

  They followed Hartley to a two-story Tudor-style house with an arched doorway and a bay window. Once inside, Hartley’s housekeeper, Alice, led them into Aaron’s study and office where the lawyer took a seat behind a desk. He motioned for Nick and Jordan to sit down in matching wing chairs. “Make yourselves comfortable. Alice, I think our guests would like some refreshments.”

  “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

  “What is this all about, Mr. Hartley?” Nick asked. “We left our daughter with a sitter and she’s expecting us back shortly.”

  “I promise this won’t take long, Mr. Harris. It’s about Edmund Taggert’s will.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Hartley, but what does Edmund’s will have to do with us?” Jordan asked, truly baffled as to why they of all people had been asked to follow him here.

  “You may or may not know that Edmund and Ruby had no children. And his older brother died some nine years ago from pneumonia. Edmund had no other living relatives.”

  About that time Alice came through the door carrying a tray with coffee and cookies. Aaron waited patiently until Alice served the coffee, handing off their cups in perfect hostess fashion.

  “Thank you, Alice.”

  Once Alice had closed the door, Aaron got back down to business. “Edmund’s will generously provides for his long-time foreman Will Foley and his wife, Francine. Everyone hereabouts knows Will and Frannie worked their magic on the farm for almost thirty years. Edmund’s given both of them a sizeable cash endowment. But the farm and the land, Mr. and Mrs. Harris, Edmund left to both of you. You two now own Taggert Organic Farms.”

  “What?” Nick and Jordan exclaimed at the same time. “That’s impossible,” Jordan added.

  Aaron shook his head. “I assure you it isn’t. It’s what Edmund wanted.”

  “What about Will and Francine Foley? Why us?”

  “As I said, the Foleys will receive a sizeable cash bequest, a retirement package if you will, for their long and loyal service to Edmund. But Will and Francine have other plans. It seems last spring they approached Edmund. April, I believe it was.” He shuffled some papers around on his desk. “It seems the Foleys explained to Edmund they wanted to leave Pelican Pointe for good so they could spend more time with their children and grandchildren in Tulare, where Will’s son and his daughter-in-law are apparently trying to get an organic farm up and running there, n
ot as competition mind you, but for a co-op.

  “Anyway, as a result of that conversation, Edmund changed his will on May one of this year, a little over four months ago. I assure you, Mr. and Mrs. Harris, the will is up-to-date and legal. I have all the financials here, which we will go over at your convenience. The farm, which consists of forty acres, is quite a profitable business venture, one of the most successful small organic farms on the West Coast, as a matter of fact.”

  “I still don’t understand. Why us?”

  “Because, Mrs. Harris, the Foleys have already made plans to pack up and move. Knowing that information, Edmund decided you and your husband would benefit the most from inheriting the farm since it is adjacent to your property. Although you own it now, Edmund was certain you wouldn’t want to see the property sold off to unscrupulous developers. He felt certain, Mr. Harris that you and your wife would keep that from ever happening. Although as I said before, you own the property outright so legally you are free to do with it what you wish. However, I can tell you that Edmund was very hopeful that you both would continue to run it and keep it in your family for generations to come.”

  Jordan got tears in her eyes. The pregnancy hormones were on overload. “I don’t know what to say. I mean… I didn’t even think he liked us all that much.”

  Aaron smiled. “I believe, Mrs. Harris, Edmund had a change of heart last spring where you and your husband were concerned. I believe he started stopping by Promise Cove, as it’s now called, regularly beginning last spring for coffee and dessert and continuing to do so during the summer months. He got to know the two of you rather well. And he mentioned that at least twice a week you had him to supper. He was quite moved by your willingness to forgive him for his abominable behavior before last spring.”

  “Before that, all he stopped by for was to complain about the noise,” Jordan added as she dabbed at the tears in her eyes.

  Once again, Aaron merely smiled. “As I said before, Mrs. Harris, Edmund could be an ornery cuss without trying too hard.”

  “Of course we’ll keep the land from falling into the hands of anyone like Kent Springer, but neither one of us knows a thing about running a dairy and growing organic vegetables,” Nick explained.

  “Then I suggest you and your wife plan on spending as much quality time with the Foleytas before their departure for Tulare. In fact, I would go by the farm as soon as possible and make the arrangements.”

  Outside in the driveway, Nick and Jordan were still in shock. It was Jordan who spoke first. “Do you think we could convince Will and Francine to stay on and manage the place for us?”

  “I don’t know, but we’re sure going to try. I’d consider dangling a sizeable bonus offer in front of them because I don’t know a thing about running a farm.”

  “I certainly don’t. I’m just now getting the hang of running a B & B. I’m not sure we can take on this added responsibility, Nick. This is huge. And in less than eight months we’ll have another child. What with a toddler and a newborn and the bed and breakfast, how will we manage?”

  “Okay, first we don’t panic. Don’t panic, Jordan. I don’t want you to stress out what with the pregnancy. We’ll figure this out.” He reached over and wrapped his arms around her. “The first thing we’re going to do is stop in and talk to the Foleys. Maybe they’ll take pity on novice farmer owners and be willing to stay.”

  But even though they spent a good thirty minutes trying to convince the Foleys to abandon their plans for Tulare, the older couple had already made up their minds. What they wanted to do now was spend more time with their grandchildren. And no amount of persuasion would convince them to change their plans. They wanted their remaining years to be spent around their family. But the couple did agree to give Nick and Jordan three weeks to learn everything they could about running an organic dairy and vegetable farm.

  As they drove off toward the cove, Nick and Jordan could only hope three weeks would be enough time.

  Hayden was just coming out of Hutton’s bedroom after putting the baby down for her afternoon nap when Quake let out a friendly little bark and headed straight for the front door, pawing at the wood. She heard the key fit into the lock and sure enough one of the double doors opened wide. Nick and Jordan walked in looking harried and tired.

  “Uh-oh, you guys look frazzled. What happened?”

  “How was Hutton?” Jordan asked as she made a mad dash down the hallway and straight to the bathroom without waiting for Hayden to answer.

  Okay, something was up, thought Hayden. “Surely, she wasn’t that worried about my babysitting skills. Hutton is fine. She even ate all of her lunch and went down for a nap without a hitch. I think I wore her out.”

  Nick shook his head. “She isn’t upset with you. We’ve had a rough morning.”

  “That doesn’t sound good. Funerals are always emotional. Anything I can do?”

  “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about running a dairy farm, would you?” Nick asked absently as he started going through the mail on the hall table.

  “Huh? Uh, no. Sorry. I’m just now beginning to read up on how to grow herbs in tiny containers. Why?”

  “Edmund Taggert left his farm to Jordan and me. We found out after the funeral.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  Jordan reappeared holding a wash cloth to her mouth. “Unfortunately, he isn’t. And the couple who’ve managed the place for more than a quarter of a century has decided to move away. That’s why we were so late getting back. We stopped, tried to beg them to stay on. Because what Nick and I know about running a dairy farm and raising organic produce would fill a tiny thimble. We have exactly three weeks to spend with the Foleys to learn everything we always wanted to know about running a farm but were afraid to ask.”

  “Are you okay, Jordan?” Nick asked taking his wife’s hand in his. “Morning sickness?”

  She nodded.

  Hayden was no dummy. “Morning sickness equals pregnant. I take it all that trying has finally paid off?”

  Jordan smiled weakly. “Like a winning slot machine!”

  Hayden laughed. “Ah, well congrats. No wonder you’ve looked so tired these past few days. You didn’t say a word yesterday when you let me drag you all over town. If you weren’t feeling up to it…”

  “I felt fine yesterday. The morning sickness has apparently kicked in because of all the strain of everything else. Nick and I decided to keep the news quiet for another week or two, you know, just in case. We haven’t told anyone yet. You’re the first.”

  “Then I feel privileged and will keep the secret locked in the vault until you give me the green light.”

  It was Nick’s turn to laugh as he wrapped Jordan up in a hug. “I’m thinking about sending out an e-mail to everyone I know. I’m about to burst with the news but this Taggert thing has been a little over the top for both of us. I think we need to focus on the pregnancy right now and forget about the organic farm thing for a couple of days.”

  “Wait a minute. Did you say you have three weeks to learn how to run a farm? What if I went with you? I could spend mornings there, afternoons at the Diner. That way I could help you run the place. Look, I used to be an excellent accountant. I can give you references…” She stopped again in mid-sentence. “Damn. I hate this secrecy thing.”

  Nick and Jordan exchanged looks. “It’s a deal. We’ll take all the help we can get. Between the three of us we should be able to spend enough time with the Foleys learning the ins and outs of running the place. Short of milking cows and spreading manure we should be fine.”

  “Speak for yourself Nick Harris,” Jordan said patting her stomach. “I’ll have you know I did not get pregnant so I could spread manure and milk dairy cows.”

  Hayden laughed. “Wait. I’m trying to picture Jordan sitting on a stool milking a cow. Nope, can’t do it.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Jordan said with amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Just for that, I’ll make sure I bring the camera the day y
ou have to spread your first load of manure around, how’s that?”

  “Life must be all about change. Otherwise, I’m fairly certain I’d never consider tossing out the word manure so easily in a conversation.”

  Nick laughed. “Well, over the next three weeks, we all may be tossing it around.”

  Without an official sheriff’s substation in Pelican Pointe, the deputies made do with one of the Sunday school classrooms at the Community Church where they assembled for their daily briefing before their shift started.

  In a town that didn’t see a lot of hardcore crime, the Springer-Carr case had generated the most excitement since last spring when Kent had been arrested for attempted arson out at The Cove. Before he ever got to the lectern, Brent sensed the adrenaline coming off the dozen or so deputies, both male and female, gathered in the room.

  “Kent Springer and Sandra ‘Sissy’ Carr have been added to the NCIC database,” Brent informed them as he read from his notes. “With the boat gone, my guess would be they’re on the run south to Mexico or north to Canada. Ethan and I canvassed the pier and no one remembers seeing the boat moored in the bay after Friday night. The Coast Guard’s been alerted but with a four-day head start…”

  “They could be anywhere,” Ethan finished for him. “If they wanted to, Easy Money is a large enough yacht to make the crossing all the way to Hawaii.” He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a thought.”

  Brent agreed. “A good one. Even though it’s likely they’re out of the country, we don’t stop looking, or stop making inquiries to other law enforcement agencies in other jurisdictions. We make our own calls, send out our own faxes. We don’t let up.”

  “Maybe they want us to think they’ve left the area,” Ethan offered. “What if they’re sitting ten miles offshore someplace? I say we get the choppers airborne, fly up and down the coast, cover as much ground as we can, ASAP.”

  “Good idea. Unfortunately, the feds have forced their way into this case because of the half a million dollars missing from Milton Carr’s business account and the fact they’re investigating Springer for bank fraud. As of two hours ago, they’re calling the shots. But as far as capturing these two, this is local and therefore, our problem. Having said that, I’ll see if I can persuade them to get the choppers in the air and make a sweep within a fifty-mile area over the water.”