Lavender Beach (45 page)

Eastlyn made her
way the four blocks to Layne’s Trains, faster than a tailwind could blow her through the front door.

She took the Nikon out of the bag and placed it on the counter, sent a pleading look toward Cooper. “I need you to download what’s on the disk and print out the pictures using your fancy printer. Then email me the pictures ASAP.”

“What’s up?”

“Can’t talk now. Just work your tech magic and I’ll see you in an hour.”

“Hey, wait a minute. This isn’t Fotomat.”

“I know. But it’s an emergency.”

Cooper tilted his head to study her demeanor. “How can anyone have a photo emergency?”

“Just do your thing with the pictures and you’ll see what I mean.”

Before he could argue with that, he watched her rush out the door, hurry down the sidewalk and dash across the street. It occurred to him that for a woman with a prosthetic, she could really move that cute ass when she needed to.

Eastlyn arrived in Brent’s office winded but pumped up on adrenaline. “I’m not sure how to tell you this, but I’m pretty certain that our first work as a team needs to include staking out McCready’s.”

“If this has anything to do with Eleanor’s claim—”

“It doesn’t. Give Cooper an hour and we’ll have all the evidence you’ll need to make an arrest. How do you get a warrant in these parts?”

Brent went over the procedure while she took notes for future reference. After he’d finished, she encouraged him to start the process. She told him what she’d witnessed between Driscoll and Flynn, explained what they were waiting for from Cooper.

Brent lifted a brow. “For a rookie, you’re on a roll.”

“I could carry this off because, let’s face it, you would stick out like a sore thumb following people around town, not to mention following a boat out on the water.”

Every so often she checked her email via cell phone until finally the notification popped up. She double-clicked the attachments, brought the images up on screen.

“What do you think now?”

Brent flipped through the camera roll. “I think when it comes time, you’re due a stellar ninety-day review, maybe even a raise.”

Thirty-One

T
he next morning it was as official as it would get. No more sneaking around working undercover for Eastlyn Parker.

Dressed in her uniform—khaki shirt, a badge displayed over the left pocket, a pair of dark brown, crisp trouser pants, a two-way radio, a Pelican Pointe police force patch on both sleeves, and a gun strapped to her waist—she looked like she meant business.

Cooper thought so, too. “You look…hot, really hot.”

She grinned at him. “Is it the weapon? It’s the Beretta, isn’t it?”

Cooper shook his head. “Honestly, I think it’s the badge. Or maybe it’s all that khaki. Who knew, I’d love a woman in uniform. Although I think what I love the most is your dark green eyes.”

She punched his arm before she realized what he’d said. “Love? Are you just kidding around?”

“How could I kid around when I’m looking at the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole life?”

She took his head in both hands. “I feel exactly the same way about you.”

“Then do me a favor. Try not to get shot up on your first day in uniform.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I have something for you.” Cooper handed her a box, gift-wrapped in soft shades of purple paper.

“What’s this?”

“You won’t know until you open it.”

Gingerly she worked the pretty ribbon off, began to thumb past the Scotch tape. After peeling back the paper, she removed the lid.  

The box held a frame with a montage of pictures he’d taken beginning with the photo that day at the cliff, the one of the lavender in its infant stages with tiny buds just beginning to sprout. With each mosaic he’d captured its progress from seedling to a flowering bush laden with huge purple blossoms.

She clutched the picture to her chest. “Oh, Cooper, you couldn’t have given me anything that I cherish more. This is amazing. I can’t wait to see how it looks hanging on my living room wall. I know just where it should go. Which reminds me, I wonder if Cord and Keegan would consider selling me this little house?”

“I have a better idea, how about you move in with me?”

She grinned. “I like the idea of living in a hacienda.”

“Then let’s do it.”

She placed a tender kiss on his lips. “I love the practical side to you, Mr. Richmond. By the way, are you sure you have that nutcase stalker of yours under control? Are you sure he’ll pack up and leave like he promised? Because that kind rarely keeps his word about anything.”

Cooper nodded. “I think Matthews will eventually move to be closer to Eleanor.”

“You’ll let me know if that isn’t the case. I gotta get to work now. We’ll discuss the move-in plans in greater detail later.”

He grabbed her in a hug.  “Be careful out there, Officer Parker.”

“You bet I will. See you tonight.”

She met Brent
before eight a.m. at the station, eager and ready to go to work. 

“Who do we bust first? Driscoll or Flynn?”

“Because we know he keeps to his schedule we nail Driscoll after he gets into the city limits with the supply of meth. We take down Titus after he’s done the heavy lifting as quietly as possible. We don’t want to tip our hand to Flynn since our upstanding businessman gets to bat clean-up.”

“Okay, then where do we take Flynn down, home or at the bar?”

“Definitely when he’s at work.”

“Good thinking. So do we make a statement at a busy time when the place is packed or first thing right after he opens up?”

Brent turned to look at his enthusiastic recruit. “For what I have in mind we get Flynn alone. That means as soon as he unlocks the door at two p.m. this afternoon we’re in his face.” He studied her demeanor. “Who says you need special training for this job? You’re pretty savvy when it comes to tactics.”

“Thank the army.”

“Let’s hope that includes at least a marksman’s badge.”

She made a tsk sound to show her disapproval. “I think I can do a little better than that. Sharpshooter, thirty-one out of thirty-five, but I’m better with a handgun than a rifle.”

Brent grinned for the first time that morning. “I knew I liked you for some reason. Are you nervous?”

“A little. I guess that’s why I’m so chatty. Let’s say we take down Driscoll and Flynn without incident. Does that insure Thorwald goes to jail as well?”

“I still have friends inside the sheriff’s department. We pick up Driscoll and Flynn and I bet one of them starts talking. That should be enough to get a warrant for Thorwald’s compound and bring down the operation.”

“So when do we roll?”

He checked his watch. “Now’s go time.”

Driscoll drove a silver Toyota Tundra that was less than a year old. The truck had a Tonneau cover so no one could see the load of crystal meth he carried in its bed.

As soon as the pickup came into view, Brent let it pass at a steady clip doing forty-five even though at that speed it was going ten miles over the limit.

Brent sat back, watched Driscoll make the turn into the pier and put the Toyota in Park. He let the man get out and go to the back of his pickup.

From inside Brent’s SUV, he and Eastlyn watched from the corner as Titus began to go through the bed of the truck, eventually unloading six smallish white trash bags.

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.”