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Authors: Vickie McKeehan

Last Chance Harbor (9 page)

BOOK: Last Chance Harbor
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He chewed his bottom lip, not wanting to answer. “Why would anyone bother to keep it or hide it in such a way by putting it with a bunch of keepsakes like this?”

She took him through the contents of the box. “All these things are the reason I decided it belonged to a child, the toys, the photos, the baseball cards, the pretty rocks and shells. That is, until I found the deed and the ring. Then I pulled the lining apart and found that icky, stiff piece of cloth. Who did it belong to? Because… Serial killers often take mementoes.” When she saw Brent’s sidelong glance, she grinned. “I watch my share of crime shows.”

“You and everyone else,” he said, rifling through the stuff. “These baseball cards are worth a small fortune. Makes me wonder why these would just be sitting around and not in someone’s collection.”

“I figured as much. But factor everything in and the question is why would something so…bloody…be hidden away inside an elementary school with little toys and a bunch of rocks?”

She noted the expression on his face looked as though he was already trying to puzzle out the solution. “I guess Brent Cody has a mystery to solve.”

“Indeed I do.” When he stood up to go, he stopped like he’d just thought of something. “By the way, I need to warn you that Nick and Jordan are planning a welcome dinner for you. The entire town will probably turn out for it.”

“The entire town? Why?”

He lifted a shoulder. “It’s what Nick and Jordan do, what the town does. We all want you to feel at home there.”

The sentiment meant she’d made the right decision to relocate. “Thanks for the heads-up. Do you have any idea when? Because I really need to do something with my hair.”

Once again, he stared at the pretty brunette. “Your hair looks fine to me. I don’t think I’m spoiling the surprise if all I tell you is…soon…very soon and leave it at that.”

 

 

Ryder didn’t sit
down to grab any downtime until after eleven o’clock that night. Dropping into the
we
ll
-w
o
r
n leather
rec
lin
e
r in a living room that brought to mind th
e’
70s, he turned on Sports Center to catch him up on the evening’s basketball scores.

Staring at the 5
5
-
in
c
h
f
l
a
t-s
cree
n
T
V
he considered how good he had it. No snow to shovel. No working on construction sites in sub-freezing temperatures. And since Bethany had cleaned him out, how many friends could he count on? Many had turned their backs on him, people he’d known since high school. Since Cord had him crashing in a place rent-free, Ryder considered himself lucky to count the man as a friend.

The work wasn’t even that hard. All he had to do was put in a little extra effort around the farm and he had a roof over his head.

It didn’t matter that someone had tacked up outdated paneling or furnished the place with ugly furniture. Ryder
had no complaints. He knew he was fortunate to be right where he was right this minute.
After several months here, he’d found he fit in with the rhythm of the farm and the little town without much effort. He could hunker down here for an evening of solitude with the supper he’d fixed himself or head into Pelican Pointe to catch the daily special at the Hilltop Diner if he chose to do so. These days, he wasn’t looking for any more than that.

He didn’t mind working around the cattle. Although the animals had given him some anxious moments until he discovered they were social creatures of habit. They were docile if handled with a firm, gentle hand and not the scary things he’d imagined them to be. For a city boy, it had taken him a few jittery first weeks before he gained a confidence around them. But once he had, everything had clicked into place. It was ridiculous now to think he’d ever been afraid of a bunch of cows.

If he had to pinpoint a fear, it would have to be all the times since settling in that he thought someone kept creeping around the house—watching him, especially when he was in the barn during the evening milking—like tonight.

The first time it had happened he thought he’d imagined things, conjured up some distant war memory. After all, the farm was remote, secluded, and he was used to the sights and sounds of a busy urban area. He couldn’t deny the quiet had gotten to him. But he’d been here three months now and still the feeling remained. It hadn’t gone away.

The second time had occurred in the middle of the night when he had awakened from a deep sleep to the sound of footsteps out in the hallway. He could’ve sworn someone had been stalking around on the hardwood floor. But when he’d gotten up to check, there’d been nothing to see, no one lurking in the rooms. Creaks and groans in an old house didn’t add up to much. So he’d chalked it up to that and let it be.

But lately, he wasn’t so sure.

Tonight during the milking, he hadn’t been able to shake another presence. Call it a second sense from having been in a war zone but it felt like someone else had been standing next to him while he’d hooked each cow up to the machine.

A week ago, he’d caught a glimpse of a man coming out of the barn heading to the administrative offices. He’d even broken into a run in pursuit—and then watched as the figure had dissolved into mist right ahead of him.

Monday he’d started seeing that same guy hanging around the construction site. Maybe he had a stalker. But that made no sense. That’s why he’d already decided to say something to Cord about it, get his take on whether someone was hanging around the farm that shouldn’t be. But hell, these days Cord had enough to deal with.

“You afraid Cord will think you’re nuts?”

Ryder flinched at the voice, kicked the recliner causing the chair to bolt upright. “What the hell? Who are you? How’d you get in here? You’re trespassing not to mention breaking and entering.”

“You know who I am. Everyone in town knows. I’m pretty sure the guys on the job mentioned me before now. They talk while they work.”

“Oh come on, that’s just guys bullshitting one another about some ghost rumored to haunt the town. No way is Scott Phillips standing in my house. No way is he a fucking ghost!”

“Sure about that, are you? Go out to Eternal Gardens sometime, check the name on my headstone. I’d suggest going over to Promise Cove and asking my widow to show you the family photo album but that’s incredibly insensitive to Jordan, not to mention my daughter, Hutton.”

For some crazy reason he didn’t doubt that reasoning. “What the hell do you want from me?”

“It’s not a question of what I want, but rather what you want to get back from Bethany. What she took from you belonged to your grandfather, your family. It’s an heirloom you need to get back.”

“Damn straight I do,” Ryder tossed out. But then it hit him. “How the hell do you know that? No one does.”

“Yeah, I know. Not even your mother.”

“If you know where Bethany is, tell me.”

“Her name isn’t Bethany. But you knew that already.”

“Where is she? What is her real name? Tell me,” Ryder demanded. But his words hung in the air unanswered and echoed off the walls as he watched the man fade right in front of him.

Mouth gaped open, he finally thought of something else to say, “Son of a bitch. How in the hell can I be talking to a freakin’ ghost?”

 

 

Chapter Four

 

R
yder had never been one to procrastinate. He prided himself on meeting a problem head on, something he’d learned from both his mom and dad, not to mention his time spent in the military.

That was only one reason after finishing the morning milking that he decided to hunt down Cord.

It took him on a trip through the outbuildings, up and down the rows of growing vegetation looking for Cord’s silv
e
r bi
r
c
h-m
e
t
a
llic truck. But his friend was not at the farm.

He didn’t find him at the veterinary clinic either.

One thing about a small town though, a person couldn’t go very far. When Ryder reached the corner of Ocean Street and Cape May, he spotted a
G
MC Si
err
a
pickup
parked outside the Fanning Marine Rescue Center. He recognized Cord’s ride.

The big iron gate was closed so Ryder took out his cell phone to text him.

Waiting for you outside. Do you have time to talk?

A minute later he got a response.
Sure. Be out in a sec.

A few minutes later Ryder watched as the gate slid back and Cord came walking out wearing scrubs.

“You really do look the part.”

Cord grinned. “Keegan and I were removing a
plastic ring caught in a sea otter’s mouth. We’ve been up since four-thirty. You seem to be adjusting to life in our little hamlet. Being away from Philly isn’t driving you nuts yet?”

“The town’s actually a nice place. No complaints. Besides, I’m beginning to hit my stride at both jobs.”

“Good to hear it. So what’s up?”

“I have to be at work in a few minutes so I’ll just get to the point. I had a visitor last night.”

Cord’s smile evaporated. “Who?”

“I’m not crazy,” Ryder stated when he saw Cord’s concerned face. “But this guy keeps showing up. In fact, for the last three months I’ve felt as though someone keeps watching me. One night last January I almost grabbed my service pistol. Last night I saw him again, came right into the living room without so much as a knock on the door.”

Cord’s brow eased, a smile tipped the corners of his mouth. “You saw Scott? Scott Phillips?”

“I know he’s some kind of local hero around here. But I don’t know the man.”

“I did. We served in Iraq together when I was there with the Guard. It was messy and deadly, a time I’d rather forget. I was there the day an IED blew Scott out of a Humvee.”

“That’s the problem, Cord. I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“You will,” Cord said as he paced off several steps in front of the gate and back again. “I haven’t seen him in months, not since my wedding day. He’s all over town though.”

“I’ve heard the rumors since I got here. For the last week, the guys have been running their mouths. I thought since I was the newcomer, they were just doing it for my benefit.”

“I wish I could say that explained it. The thing is if you see him once, you’re likely on his list for whatever reason.”

“What kind of list? Why me? I’m not bothering anyone. I live a quiet life here, the way I want it.”

“He goes after troubled people. Scott must think you’re in need of help.”

“You’re kidding? But I don’t need help. And I’m hardly in the troubled category.”

Cord narrowed his eyes, stared long and hard at Ryder. “You’re sure of that, are you?”

“Positive.”

“Yeah? What about Bethany? What about the fact she took off with everything you ever owned.”

“What about her? She’s long gone. Sure, I’m pissed off about what she did. I think of it every single day. Who wouldn’t? I’m working my ass off to stash some money aside like I had before she came into my life. You think I don’t know that if it hadn’t been for you loaning me the tools, I wouldn’t even be able to take this job.”

BOOK: Last Chance Harbor
8.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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