Lavender Beach (2 page)

Prologue

Eight weeks earlier

Bakersfield, California

A
fter making the six-hour drive from Pelican Pointe to Bakersfield, Nick Harris and Cord Bennett sat inside a coffee shop across the street from a shabby two-story smokehouse—their eyes glued on anyone coming in or going out of the building.

The two men had gotten their first good look at the place at two that afternoon. They’d already been waiting around for several hours. It was nearly dark now and still no sign of the reason they’d made the trip.

Parked at a table near the window, they nursed cups of coffee neither man wanted. But it was the best spot to keep an eye on the rooming house where Eastlyn Parker lived.

They already knew Eastlyn’s no-nonsense landlady, a woman by the name of Clara Whitaker, owned the boarding house that sat two blocks north of the downtown area. It wasn’t the best part of town.

Since entering the coffee shop, Nick had seen hustlers, panhandlers, and shady characters, many of whom were prostitutes, working the block.

Although Clara had promised to call Nick the minute Eastlyn walked in, the men were taking no chances. Both men were equally anxious to get this encounter over with. So far, their plan to stake out the house had been a bust. But giving up wasn’t an option. They were too afraid they might somehow miss the former army helicopter pilot coming home.

“I don’t see how I can drink another drop of coffee,” Cord complained, pushing his cup away. “The stuff is making me sick.”

With a growth of day-old beard beginning to itch on his face, Nick grumbled, “I’m right there with you. Every swallow is beginning to remind me of how burned beans must taste.” He leveled a gaze at Cord and added, “Are you absolutely certain Ben Latham said this is where she lived?”

Cord nodded and glanced out the window. “Brent Cody verified the address with DMV. Plus, it’s the last known address the VA has for her. It’s also where she gets her disability checks. And it’s the same address she gave the people at rehab when she checked out. Let’s face it, Eastlyn Parker hasn’t been doing well at all, Nick. You ever wonder what she’ll say when she sees us?”

“I know exactly what she’ll say and how she’ll react. The same as you did when Jarrod Collins walked into that Houston jail several years back and bailed you out.”

Cord gave him a sheepish grin. “The result of booze and a bad attitude. God. Am I ever glad you sent Jarrod to Texas to bring me back to California. Best thing that ever happened to me. If not for that, I probably would’ve ended up serving time for assault and battery.”

“Yeah? But how long did it take you to figure that out? You weren’t exactly thanking me those first three months you got dumped in Pelican Pointe. I doubt Eastlyn will be overjoyed we’re planning this little intervention.”

“Sure. I get it. Strangers show up on her doorstep threatening to cart her off. Eastlyn’s bound to be pissed off.”

Nick scratched the stubble on his chin. “Anyone would be. Is there a chance she may not recall that day in Iraq? A lot of water under the bridge since then.”

“Who knows? It’s been years. So how do we handle this little tactical operation? Do we have a backup plan for when she puts up major resistance? Which you know she will.”

“We can’t exactly kidnap her, if that’s what you mean.”

“Why not? We’re here for her own good.”

“Yeah, but convincing her of that is a monumental uphill battle. That day back in Houston, how exactly did Jarrod get you to come with him without you punching him out? You never did tell me that part.”

Cord’s eyes danced with mischief. “Jarrod refused to give me my truck keys, said he should do the driving to get us out of there and back to my apartment since I’d spent several restless nights in lockup. He suggested I get in the truck and catch some shuteye. I was so worn out I fell asleep. All I remember is leaning my head back on the headrest and Jarrod taking off around the loop heading back to my apartment. At least I thought that’s what he planned to do. I trusted him to do what he said. Big mistake on my part. After spending three days in jail, my exhaustion took over and I conked out, slept like a baby. By the time I woke up, we were going down I-10 heading west, a hundred miles from El Paso, out in the middle of the Texas prairie. Since you and Ben had provided Jarrod his airplane ticket, he used my truck as his ride back to California, dragging me back with him.”

Nick chuckled at the way the plan had come together. “So, in a sense, Jarrod did kidnap you?”

“Hell, yes. Why do you think I was so furious and resentful those first few months? The thing is, I didn’t have any other place to go. So when Jarrod told me he was bringing me back to some town called Pelican Pointe, I thought I’d spend a couple days there and take off back down to San Diego. At least I’d be back where I started out. Problem is, I had no one there, either. Then once I met Keegan, my life completely changed. Now look at me, I’m an upstanding citizen, the town vet. Who would’ve believed
that
one-eighty turnaround, huh?”

Nick nodded. “I know what you mean. I admit I never imagined I’d end up there, either. Let alone happily married with two kids and a job at the bank.”

“
President
of the bank no less. Funny how life has a way of throwing us a curveball when what we’re expecting is a ninety-five-mile-per-hour heater down the middle. So how exactly do we get the captain to understand we’re doing this for her own benefit?”

“We offer her a job. She’s lost the last three.”

“Spending multiple stints in rehab will tend to do that. So which one of us rides back with her so she doesn’t try to bolt and lose us?”

“That would be you,” Nick said evenly. “In fact, my strategy is to talk her into riding back with me and you driving her vehicle following behind.”

Cord took a look out the plate glass window and sat up straighter. “Then get ready to test your scheme. There’s her tan and red Ford Bronco pulling up at the curb now. She’s getting out, so let’s do this.”

Nick pushed to his feet, tossed the tip on the table. “I’ve been working on my speech since learning about her. Let’s get this over with.”

The two men crossed the street, catching up with the former army captain before she stuck her key into the front door of the boarding house. As they reached the lawn Nick looked up at the front porch and called out, “Hey, Captain, you’re the pilot who airlifted me out of that desert no man’s land they called Iraq.”

Nick stared at the thirty-two-year-old ex-pilot while waiting for a response.

Leggy Eastlyn Parker wore her golden-wheat hair in a bobbed but curly ’do. Her body was tan from all the work she picked up outdoors. Fit and in shape, she carried her shoulders back in a proud, resilient swagger. Her green eyes were sharp and clear despite another recent bout in rehab to kick a prescription drug addiction.

For the first time in seven years Nick got a look at the Black Hawk pilot who’d flown him out of harm’s way. Instead of what would’ve been certain death for him, he’d reached the hospital in time to undergo surgery. All because of Eastlyn Parker.

Nearly a year after his own rescue, she’d been flying another medevac mission—carrying another seriously injured soldier to the mobile hospital unit—when her chopper came under heavy fire.

Nick already knew that while at the controls she’d flown into a wall of surface-to-air missiles. As cannon fire hammered the chopper, she’d done her best to evade mortar after mortar to reach her destination.

While she skirted rocket fire, one penetrated the steel beneath her feet. It had cost her half of her left leg from the knee down. Though bleeding badly from her wound, Eastlyn had continued to fly her crew and the wounded serviceman out of the danger zone, landing the chopper miles away from enemy fire at the field hospital.

Her remarkable flying ability meant Eastlyn hadn’t lost a man, not even the soldier who’d been slated for surgery.

Nick watched as she finally turned to stare down at him.

“I flew a lot of GIs out of that desert. Am I supposed to remember one in particular?”

“You ought to. I had a chest full of metal shrapnel and was bleeding out at the time. It was my good fortune that you were in the area and at the controls of the medevac chopper. You got me to the surgical unit in time for them to save my life.”

“Sorry, but you’ll have to narrow it down a little.”

Moving closer to extend his hand, Nick accommodated. “Former Lieutenant Nick Harris, California National Guard. My Hummer hit an IED twenty miles east of Baghdad. The day it happened, the incident killed a friend of mine sitting right next to me.”

Eastlyn politely reached out her hand to shake his, doing her best to think of something to say. After an awkward moment passed, she decided to fake it. “Ah, as I recall you went on and on about your buddy until they pumped you with enough morphine to shut you up.” He didn’t need to know that was a fairly accurate description of at least fifty of her missions. She went on, “Sorry about your friend. There was a lot of that going around back then, especially in those tin cans they called armored plating.”

Nick tried not to let his emotions show. “I found out about you losing your leg after the fact. I’m sorry for it. But the day I got hit…you saved my life.”

Eastlyn grimaced. With a wave of her hand she dismissed that notion. “I did my job.” As she stood there eyeing the two men she began to suspect they had an ulterior motive for showing up. “Why is it you felt the need for a reunion, especially today, especially now?”

She spared a brief glance toward Cord but turned back to Nick, wanting an answer. “Why bring reinforcements with you? What is it you want from me?”

Cord stepped forward and reached out his hand, introduced himself. “I did tours in both Iraq and Afghanistan. I was there with Nick that day and…”

Eastlyn cut him off, eager to get rid of them and make her way inside the house. “Good for you. Well, it was real nice catching up and chatting like this. We’ll do this again real soon. For future reference there’s a bar around the corner. I haven’t had a drink in six weeks but I’d be happy to meet you there for a beer…later.” With no intentions of keeping that date, she turned to head inside.

But Nick’s next words stopped her cold. “I understand you lost your pilot’s license, which means you lost your job as a crop duster two years back. With it, you lost your ability to earn a living doing what you love.”

Eastlyn spun around and narrowed a sharp gaze on Nick, sending out fiery daggers with one long glare. “FYI nobody calls it crop dusting anymore. It’s known as
ag application
. It’s a big deal around here in Kern County. It isn’t all about spraying pesticides, you know. They use planes for seed sowing, especially where rice is grown in the Central Valley.”

Undeterred, Nick went on, “Thanks for the lesson. Whatever it’s called, the company fired you when you failed a drug test. They made sure the FAA yanked your pilot’s license. After that, you were forced to get a job doing whatever you could to bring in a paycheck. You tried your hand as a machinist. But you lost that job, too. Two months ago you got your ass fired from a landscaping outfit for failing yet another drug test. In four years you’ve done four stints in rehab at four different locations. You’re running out of money and friends and places to go that will have you.”

“How the hell do you know all that? What are you—spying on me?” Eastlyn snapped. “And what business is it of yours anyway what I do? What do you care if I drop dead right here on the porch? What’s it to you? Why the inquisition? What are you, DEA? Not that it’s any of your damned business but the drugs I had in my system that day were painkillers for my leg injury, legally prescribed by a doctor.”

“Nice story,” Cord offered. “But the truth is you were flying under the influence the first time, running machinery under the influence of Vicodin the next. A big no-no when operating a commercial aircraft even for
ag application
and an expensive metal lathe. The company frowned on your using prescription drugs while putting together metal parts for an airplane engine.”

Nick took one step toward her.

Eastlyn stepped back, put both hands on her hips in a show of defiance. “I got news for you, pal, don’t come any closer. Just because I’m missing part of my leg, doesn’t mean I’m less capable of taking care of myself. I can still kick your out-of-shape, soft, sorry ass any day of the week.”

She shot a look at Nick’s much taller sidekick, bobbed her head in his direction. “Yours too.”

Cord raised his hands in peace. “These days I’m more of a lover than a fighter.”

Nick fought the urge to smile at the exchange. But now was not the time to show a crack in the veneer. He knew he needed to keep a serious face. “You probably could kick my ass if you were motivated enough since I spend a lot of time these days sitting behind a desk, although I do have two active kids that keep me in pretty good shape running after them. Besides, I didn’t say a thing about your lack of ability. Physically, you’re fine. I’m sure you look the same as you did the day you saved my life,” Nick asserted. “It’s just…”