Lavender Beach (15 page)

“Really? How sweet?” She let out a loud sigh. “Who am I kidding? It would take massive hours of restoration. And where would I put it? I don’t have a place to work on it at my current address.”

“What if you worked on it out at Cleef’s place? In addition to all those other buildings he had a nice little workshop next to his garage. It’d be a perfect place for the renovation.”

“I could do that? Keep it there on the premises? That’d work.” Again, she shook her head. “Let’s say I get it up and running. What would I do with the chopper if I don’t get my license back? It is a distinct possibility. And if I do get it back, it may only be for fixed wing aircraft.”

“Ah. Which would rule out the chopper. That is a problem. Or…you could think of it this way. It’d be a good investment. In the event the FAA turns you down, then sell it for a profit. There has to be a collector out there somewhere who would pay dearly to have it.”

“Let’s not get carried away. We need to find out the price before I start making big plans.” Or get her hopes up, she decided. Without overthinking it, she blurted out, “Why don’t you come to my house for dinner Friday night? I can’t promise steaks on the grill but it’ll be home-cooked.”

“It’s a date.”

That afternoon Cooper
wandered over to the bank to have a talk with Nick. The man wore many hats around town—the loan officer, innkeeper, town councilman, husband, and father. But at the end of the day, the guy was primarily known for being a fair man when dealing with his neighbors.

Cooper found himself envying certain portions of Nick’s life. Even though, he’d never seen himself in the role of father, he’d often wondered about it. His own had been a good man. Layne Richmond had been cheated out of all that life offered. Cooper didn’t realize until now how much bitterness and resentment he’d built up toward Eleanor for taking away the only father he’d ever have.

As he stood outside Nick’s office waiting to get a free minute, a feeling of déjà vu hit him. He remembered another day when Eleanor had dragged him into the bank to confront one of the tellers because her checks had been bouncing all over town. Eleanor had yelled at the teller for fifteen minutes before Milton Carr, the then bank president, had emerged from his office to put a stop to the commotion. But Mr. Carr’s presence had given Eleanor another person at whom to direct her venom. As the embarrassing scene played out, Cooper remembered as a kid how he’d wished to have a sane person for a mother. Just that one thing seemed so simple, yet would’ve been such a gift at the time.

If only TV mom, Carol Brady, had heard his pleas. If only Carol had decided to abandon her
Brady Bunch
family to come rescue him in Pelican Pointe and take him away to the coveted fantasy world of television where all disputes ended in a hug. If only…

Cooper was still daydreaming when Nick’s admin showed him into the office.

He moved through the doorway and said, “If the price is right I think I have a buyer for that old helicopter out at Cleef’s place.”

Nick eyed Cooper with open interest. “Are you suggesting Eastlyn wants to try and fix that thing up and actually fly it? Uh, did she mention she doesn’t have her pilot’s license?”

“It came up in conversation. But hey, that woman has the skills to do just about anything she sets her mind to do.”

“No argument from me.”

“I’m blown away that Eastlyn’s able to go through everything she’s seen and still keeps at it. I doubt most people could deal with losing part of a leg the way she has. In my book, she’s a true hero.”

Nick sent him a curious look and leaned back in his chair. “I’m sure you mean that as a compliment, but…the Eastlyn I know I doubt would view that statement as a positive.”

“Why not? It was meant as a compliment.”

“Because she’s like most veterans who’ve seen war. While the mention of their military service is both laudable
and
noteworthy, it’s also something they don’t like to dwell on very often, especially if they’re suffering from self-doubt, or self-consciousness due to some type of loss. In Eastlyn’s case, a limb.”

Cooper dropped his chin. “I’ve noticed that. She has this amazing personality, the ability to laugh even at herself. She has so much history to offer, but then just when you think it’s all coming together, she puts up this wall and shuts you down. What do you suggest I do about it? You know, if I want to get to know her better.”

Nick chewed the inside of his jaw. “I’ll be blunt. It has very little to do with you. Eastlyn has to come to terms with it herself. Until she does, she’ll be prickly whenever you push her toward any kind of intimacy. For me, it was inside my head. Not to mention I have these ugly scars across my chest. Not a very attractive look if you want to take the right woman to bed.”

“It sounds like you know what she’s going through.”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t even suggest that I know what goes on in the mind of a woman. But as far as the veteran side of her, I understand exactly how her self-consciousness affects the way she deals with social settings. She’ll likely try your patience until you want to wring her neck. And she’ll continue to do it until she feels she’s able to trust you. Right now, she’s convinced herself she’s not that attractive. You’ll have to find a way to get her to believe that her disability is insubstantial to how you feel. Either that, or you’ll get fed up with her touchiness and walk away.”

“I’m not sure I could do that. Walk away, that is.”

“I hope you mean that. I do. I hope you have the fortitude to stick it out. Because Eastlyn is one of the few people I think would be worth fighting for.”

Later Coop stood
at the counter in his kitchen whipping together scrambled eggs and frying hash browns for supper—his mind on Nick’s words—when Caleb came sauntering in.

Caleb had the same looks as his older brother. They were almost the same height and build, same coloring. Although Caleb wore his hair shorter and his eyes were flaked with more green than blue, anyone could tell they were related.

“You always did love eating breakfast for dinner. Why is that?” Caleb noted.

“Maybe because our mother never bothered feeding her kids a regular supper and I got stuck with meal prep for two little hungry mouths that usually had to eat what I put in front of them,” Cooper returned easily.

“Yeah, there was that. Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing the hot new arrival in town? Why do I have to hear everything secondhand from Drea? I mean, you’re my older brother. You’re supposed to share the important stuff like that with a bro’. When you get a woman in your life, you share the deets.”

Cooper shot him a grin. “Sorry about that, I must be out of practice about the rules between bros.”

“That’s okay. I’ll cut you some slack this time. Just don’t let it happen again. Have you asked her out yet? And no, I’m not talking about taking her out to some junkyard to clomp around a bunch of rusted metal.”

“Why? She enjoyed clomping around all that rusted metal, especially what she found in the barn.” Cooper told him about the Sioux helicopter with the bubble canopy and how Eastlyn’s eyes had bugged out at the find.

“What kind of woman wants to fix up an old bird like that?”

“The kind that knows how to fly it.”

“Cool. But I thought she was having…you know, problems on that score. I thought her flying days were ancient history, what with her foot gone and all. Which makes me wonder, have you seen it? Her stump?”

“Geez, Caleb. Grow up. The woman’s been to war. That’s one of the casualties of combat, or haven’t you heard? Soldiers lose limbs, come back stateside with massive burns, and a whole slew of PTSD problems to deal with. Eastlyn’s no different than a hundred thousand other wounded vets.”

Caleb held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I was just curious. Most people around here are.”

“They can get over it then. Are you staying for supper or what?”

“Got enough to feed your little brother?”

“If not, I’ll stuff a cheese sandwich down you like I used to do. Want a beer?”

“Absolutely. How about we watch the Giants take on the Cardinals sitting in front of the tube?” Before Cooper could answer, Caleb ambled over to the living room and picked up the remote to the TV, found the local channel that carried the baseball game. “I’m hoping Buster pulls ahead of Yadier Molina in the all-star vote for catcher.”

Cooper brought plates piled high with food and set them down on the coffee table for easy access. “Buster’s stats are impressive, but everybody knows Molina’s got the rocket arm.”

That statement brought a round of good-natured brotherly discord as they disagreed on each catcher’s abilities. But both took the time to dig into the potatoes and eggs with a vengeance as the start of the game overshadowed the debate.

Nine

B
efore heading home for the day, Eastlyn pulled up in front of the police station on Main. She swung through the glass door thinking she’d see a deputy or sergeant parked on duty stopping her progress. Instead, she was surprised to see an empty workstation.

It didn’t take long for her to realize this was a one-man police force. Beyond an inside window she saw into Brent’s office. The guy sat preoccupied behind his desk. He’d shed the khaki uniform and opted instead for jeans and a button-down light blue shirt.

When he glanced up from his paperwork and spotted her, Eastlyn rounded the corner, stuck her head in the small room. “So you just wear the uniform when you need to intimidate people?”

“You’re living in town, aren’t you?” There was a sparkle in his eyes when he said it.

Her tension fell away. She stifled a laugh, but felt the need to point out, “I’m here by my own choice. Any word yet on Durke Pedasco?”

“No. However I did talk to the Feds this morning and finally got someone there to confirm none of their agencies had ever approached your friend to work as an informant.”

Satisfaction brought Eastlyn all the way into the room. “You’re thorough. I told you Durke wasn’t an informant for anyone.”

“That’s if they were telling me the truth. That look on your face tells me you really have no idea what your friend could’ve been up to. I’m convinced, however, Pedasco is in trouble, that he felt the need for some reason to go on the run, to get out of the area...and fast…without taking anything with him.”

“If you’re right, that means Durke could be...dead.”

“Maybe, or Durke knew something and had to slip away because of it. Either way, as a bartender Pedasco could successfully pick up on conversations. Think about it. Maybe he caught wind of something he wasn’t supposed to know about. The options are endless. Let’s face it, during those last few weeks before you entered rehab, you were…”

“Out of it? Thinking of myself? Yeah, I guess I was. So you’re saying you still think there’s a possibility Durke could be an informant?”

“I’m saying I’m keeping an open mind. Any good cop knows a reliable informant is necessary to overcome certain obstacles in proving a drug case.”