Authors: Lisa Jackson

Beach Season (37 page)

BOOK: Beach Season

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“Dispatch to Coast Guard One.”

Cooper jerked away from the helicopter’s window as Brenda’s voice came over the air. “Coast Guard One, copy.”

“Jane is at Dragon’s Point, Sheriff. She’s out on the point in the rocks. The male suspect is in the vicinity of the parking lot, but she says he’s coming back. Armed and dangerous.”

“Dragon’s Point!” Coop shouted to the crew, but the aircraft was already banking to the left. The pilot had been listening on the same radio band.

“Copy,” the pilot said.

“Brenda,” Coop said, trying to picture the scene, “he left her on the Point? He’s coming back?”

“He went back to the car for rope and a gag, she thinks. But he’s going to be mad when he comes back and finds that she’s moved her spot.”

“And you’ve dispatched law enforcement on the ground to the Point?”

“Got two units on their way,” Brenda said.

“Thanks, Bren. Copy.” Coop moved back to the window and thought through approaches. He could drop down to the water, but he couldn’t bring a gun if he did that. They could buzz the perp if they spotted him far enough away from Jane, but the man was armed. Would he fire at the helicopter? And what if he had Jane hostage?

“How do you want me to approach?” the pilot asked over the radio.

“From inland ... the parking area,” Coop responded. “Let’s see if we can ward the abductor off.”
And keep Jane safe.
Let the bastard slip away; this was all about saving Jane.

The wait was agonizing.

Adrenaline thrummed through her as she peeked out over the rocks at the glassy water of the sound, trying to think of a way to escape as two kite boarders floated past.

“Help!” she cried. “Help me!”

They were too far away to hear her.

A guttural curse floated on the wind and she glanced down toward the path.

The brute crashed through the tide pools, furious that she was gone. His head twitched right and left as he scanned the horizon and...

Had he seen her?

She ducked again, and the air was rent by gunfire. Stones pinged nearby as bullets hit rock.

He was shooting at her.

Her body shook as she hobbled down onto her side, trying to stay low. But she imagined him running toward her, ready to fire. How many yards separated them?

And she was a sitting target.

All these months on the run, trying to hide and keep moving, and it had come to this.

A low growl sounded in the distance. She tried to focus on that noise, imagined it as a soothing mantra of normal life. A tractor on the road? A small fishing boat?

It grew louder, chopping the air overhead. A helicopter. She squinted up against the sun and spotted it—a Coast Guard helicopter. Was it still searching for the missing kid?

She wanted to jump up and try to signal, but she couldn’t risk drawing fire from the brute.

Still ... the helicopter gave her hope.

She hobbled up to her knees and peered over the rocks.

The brute saw the aircraft, too ... and he realized that they could see him.

In one move, he holstered his gun and turned toward the parking lot ...

Retreating.

A sob of relief quivered from Jane’s chest as she pushed to her feet. They had saved her!

Tears of relief blurred her vision and she blinked them away, eager to see the aircraft circling overhead.

The copter hovered, descending over the cove. When it reached its lowest point, a rope ladder dropped out and a uniformed officer began to descend.

He was at least fifty yards away, but from his lithe movements and his strong, broad shoulders, she recognized him.

Coop.

Her heart swelled with love for this man, her protector, her soul mate. Tears streaked her face as she watched him drop into the water, wade into shore, and climb the rocks.

Coop had come to rescue her.

“Miss Jane?” His gaze combed over her, concerned, tentative. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.”

He touched her shoulders gently, then cradled her in his arms as she sagged against him.

“Don’t ever let go,” she whispered. “Don’t ever let me go.”

E
PILOGUE

“To safe haven,” Rusty said, holding up a glass of sparkling apple cider.

“I’ll drink to that,” Jane said as she clinked glasses with Kailani and Coop.

The sun cast orange light on Coop’s deck, where the table was spread with newspaper and a bag of steamed crabs sat ready to be cracked. The trauma of last week was beginning to fade to the back of Jane’s mind, and Jane and Coop had decided it was time to invite Rusty and Kailani over to fill them in on Jane’s story.

“I think your danger is gone, Jane,” Kailani said, twirling her glass on the table. “I don’t see it anymore.”

“I sure hope so. I’ve had more than my share,” Jane said.

“That state trooper who arrested your kidnapper came into the Quickstop today,” Rusty said. “Ramsey was his name, right? Did you know he’s got two other felony convictions for murder?”

“We heard that,” Coop said, squeezing Jane’s knee.

Jane had called him “the brute,” but later they’d told her he was Anthony Ramsey and he had been apprehended that fateful day after a police chase on Highway 12.

“I hope he’s off the streets for a long time,” Jane said.

“He will be,” Coop said, his voice quiet but confident. “He’s got three strikes now.”

Jane took a sip of the sweet apple juice and sighed. “It’s good to be putting that whole chapter of my life behind me.”

Coop nodded, bumping Rusty on the shoulder. “Jane just found out today that she doesn’t have to go back to New York for that trial anymore. Turns out the killer, a thug named Canby, did some soul searching in prison. He’s turning his life around. Confessed to the homicide.”

Jane smiled. She had sobbed in relief after the call came from the Manhattan district attorney that day.

“So ... instead of a trip to the city, we’ve decided on a September wedding here in Avon.” Coop put his glass on the table, facing Kailani and Rusty. “We’d like you two to stand up for us.”

Rusty bumped Coop on the shoulder. “I’m honored, man.”

Kailani’s dark eyes lit up. “And that explains why I’ve been seeing Jane barefoot on the beach in a white dress. You’re having a beach wedding. And there are windsurfers behind you in the cove.”

Jane laughed. “Okay, Kailani, now you’re scaring me.”

“I’ve been seeing that image all week,” Kailani said seriously. “Now that you’ve said it, I can take it out of my head and make room for something else.”

“Like your little baby girl?” Jane smiled.

Kailani rubbed her belly. “Two girls.” She looked over at Rusty, who scraped his hair back. “I was right about the gender, wrong about the number. The doctor says we’re having twins.”

“I may never sleep again!” Rusty said.

Coop clapped him on the back. “Relax, buddy. You can sleep when you get old.”

“Right.” Rusty laughed. “I’ll be aging fast.”

“So ...” Jane rose to pour out the steamed crabs. “Let’s crack some crabs.”

As they dug in, Jane leaned back and surveyed their relaxed faces, the quiet neighborhood with Mrs. Lang in her garden and Mr. Mitty walking his dogs out in the dunes. The orange ball of the sun was reflected on the water of the sound, where die-hard windsurfers worked their sails to capture the last ride of the day.

How she loved this place, this beach life, this Carolina charm ... this man sitting beside her. Cooper had promised her protection, but he’d given her so much more.

A new life.

She looked down at the table as a vision popped into her head—a blue-eyed baby laughing up at her.

She darted a look at Kailani, who smiled. “Yes,” Kailani said, nodding. “I see it, too. They’ll play together.”

Jane touched her belly, her heart beating in wonder. Yes, Cooper really had given her a new life.

THE BRASS RING

B
Y
L
ISA
J
ACKSON

C
HAPTER
1

The old merry-go-round picked up speed, ancient gears grinding as black smoke spewed from the diesel engine and clouded the summer-blue Oregon sky.

Shawna McGuire clung to the neck of her wooden mount and glanced over her shoulder. Her heart swelled at the sight of Parker Harrison. Tall, with the broad shoulders of a natural athlete and brown hair streaked gold by the sun, he sat astride a glossy striped tiger. His blue eyes were gazing possessively at her and a camera swung from his neck.

Shawna grinned shamelessly. Tomorrow morning she and Parker would be married!

The carousel spun faster. Colors of pink, blue, and yellow blurred together.

“Reach, Shawna! Come on, you can do it!” Parker yelled, his deep voice difficult to hear above the piped music of the calliope and the sputtering engine.

Grinning, her honey-gold hair billowing away from her face, she saw him wink at her, then focus his camera and aim.

“Go for it,
Doctor!”
he called.

The challenge was on and Shawna glanced forward again, her green eyes fixed on the brass ring with fluttering pastel ribbons, the prize that hung precariously near the speeding carousel. She stretched her fingers, grabbed as she passed the ring and swiped into the air, coming up with nothing and nearly falling off her painted white stallion in the bargain. She heard Parker’s laughter and looked back just in time to see him snatch the prize. A big, gloating smile spread easily across his square jaw and the look he sent her made her heart pound wildly.

She thought about her plans for the wedding the following morning. It was almost too good to be true. In less than twenty-four hours, under the rose arbor at Pioneer Church, she’d become Mrs. Parker Harrison and they would be bound for a weeklong honeymoon in the Caribbean! No busy hospital schedules, no double shifts, no phones or patients—just Parker.

She glimpsed Parker stuffing the ring and ribbons into the front pocket of his jeans as the merry-go-round slowed.

“That’s how it’s done,” he said, cupping his hands over his mouth so that she could hear him.

“Insufferable, arrogant—” she muttered, but a dimple creased her cheek and she laughed gaily, clasping her fingers around the post supporting her mount and tossing back her head. Her long hair brushed against her shoulders and she could hear the warm sound of Parker’s laughter. She was young and in love—nothing could be more perfect.

When the ride ended she climbed off her glazed white horse and felt Parker’s strong arms surround her. “That was a feeble attempt if I ever saw one,” he whispered into her ear as he lifted her to the ground.

“We all can’t be professional athletes,” she teased, looking up at him through gold-tipped lashes. “Some of us have to set goals, you know, to achieve higher intellectual and humanistic rewards.”

“Bull!”

“Bull?” she repeated, arching a golden brow.

“Save that for someone who’ll believe it, Doctor. I won and you’re burned.”

“Well, maybe just a little,” she admitted, her eyes shining. “But it is comforting to know that should I ever quit my practice, and if you gave up completely on tennis, we could depend on your income as a professional ring-grabber.”

“I’ll get you for that one, Dr. McGuire,” he promised, squeezing her small waist, his hand catching in the cotton folds of her sundress. “And my vengeance will be swift and powerful and drop you to your knees!”

“Promises, promises!” she quipped, dashing away from him and winding quickly through the crowd. Dry grass brushed against her ankles and several times her sandals caught on an exposed pebble, but she finally reached a refreshment booth with Parker right on her heels. “A bag of buttered popcorn and a sack of peanuts,” she said to the vendor standing under the striped awnings. She felt out of breath and flushed, and her eyes glimmered mischievously. “And this guy,” she motioned to Parker as he approached, “will foot the bill.”

“Henpecked already,” Parker muttered, delving into his wallet and handing a five-dollar bill to the vendor. Someday—” he said, blue eyes dancing as he shucked open a peanut and tossed the nut into his mouth.

“Someday what?” she challenged, her pulse leaping when his eyes fixed on her lips. For a minute she thought he was going to kiss her right there in the middle of the crowd. If he did, she wouldn’t stop him. She couldn’t. She loved him too much.

“Just you wait, lady—” he warned, his voice low and throaty, the vein in the side of his neck pulsing.

Shawna’s heart began to thud crazily.

“For what?”

A couple of giggling teenage girls approached, breaking the magical spell. “Mr. Harrison?” the taller, red-haired girl asked, while her friend in braces blushed.

Parker looked over his shoulder and twisted around. “Yes?”

“I told you it was him!” the girl in braces said, nearly jumping up and down in her excitement. Her brown eyes gleamed in anticipation.

“Could we, uh, would you mind”—the redhead fumbled in her purse—“could we get your autograph?”

“Sure,” Parker said, taking the scraps of paper and pen that had been shoved into his hand and scribbling out his name.

“I’m Sara and this is Kelly. Uh—Sara without an ‘h.’ ”

“Got it!” Parker finished writing.

“Is, um, Brad here?”

“ ’Fraid not,” Parker admitted, the corner of his mouth lifting as he snapped the cap back onto the pen.

“Too bad,” Sara murmured, obviously disappointed as she tucked her pen and paper into her purse.

But Kelly smiled widely, displaying the wires covering her teeth. “Gee, thanks!”

The two girls waved and took off, giggling to themselves.

“The price of fame,” Parker said teasingly.

“Not too bad for a has-been,” Shawna commented dryly, unable to hide the pride in her voice. “But it didn’t hurt that you’re Brad Lomax’s coach. He’s the star now, you know.”

Parker grinned crookedly. “Admit it, McGuire, you’re still sore ’cause you didn’t get the ring.” Draping his arm possessively around her shoulders, he hugged her close.

“Maybe just a little,” she said with a happy sigh. The day had been perfect despite the humidity. High overhead, the boughs of tall firs swayed in the sultry summer breeze and dark clouds drifted in from the west.

Shawna’s feet barely hit the ground as they walked through the “Fair from Yesteryear.” Sprawled over several acres of farmland in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains, the dun-colored tents, flashy rides, and booths were backdropped by spectacular mountains. Muted calliope music filled the summer air, and barkers, hawking their wares and games, shouted over the noise of the crowd. The smells of horses, sawdust, popcorn, and caramel wafted through the crowded, tent-lined fields that served as fairgrounds.

“Want to test your strength?” Shawna asked, glancing up at Parker and pointing to a lumberjack who was hoisting a heavy mallet over his head. Swinging the hammer with all of his might, the brawny man grunted loudly. The mallet crashed against a springboard and hurled a hearty weight halfway up a tall pole.

Parker’s lips curved cynically. “I’ll pass. Don’t want to ruin my tennis arm, you know.”

“Sure.”

Parker ran his fingers through his sun-streaked hair. “There is another reason,” he admitted.

She arched an eyebrow quizzically. “Which is?”

“I think I’ll save my strength for tomorrow night.” His voice lowered and his eyes darkened mysteriously. “There’s this certain lady who’s expecting all of my attention and physical prowess.”

“Is that right?” She popped a piece of popcorn into his mouth and grinned. “Then you’d better not disappoint her.”

“I won’t,” he promised, his gaze shifting to her mouth.

Shawna swallowed with difficulty. Whenever he looked at her that way, so sensual and determined, her heart always started beating a rapid double-time. She had to glance away, over his shoulder to a short, plump woman who was standing in front of a tent.

Catching Shawna’s eye, the woman called, “How about I read your fortune?” With bright scarves wrapped around her head, painted fingernails, and dangling hooped earrings, she waved Shawna and Parker inside.

“I don’t know—”

“Why not?” Parker argued, propelling her into the darkened tent. Smelling of sawdust and cloying perfume, the tent was dark and close. Shawna sat on a dusty pillow near a small table and wondered what had possessed her to enter. The floor was covered with sawdust and straw, the only illumination coming from a slit in the top of the canvas. The place gave her the creeps.

Placing a five-dollar bill on the corner of the table, Parker sat next to Shawna, one arm still draped casually over her shoulders, his long legs crossed Indian style.

The money quickly disappeared into the voluminous folds of the Gypsy woman’s skirt as she settled onto a mound of pillows on the other side of the table. “You first?” she asked, flashing Shawna a friendly, gold-capped smile.

Shrugging, Shawna glanced at Parker before meeting the Gypsy woman’s gaze. “Sure. Why not?”

“Good!” Lady Fate clapped her wrinkled palms together. “Now, let me read your palm.” Taking Shawna’s hand in hers, she gently stroked the smooth skin, tracing the lines of Shawna’s palm with her long fingers.

“I see you have worked long and hard in your job.”

That much was true, Shawna thought wryly. She’d spent more hours than she wanted to count as a bartender while going to college and medical school. It had been years of grueling work, late shifts, and early morning classes, but finally, just this past year, she’d become a full-fledged internist. Even now, juggling time between her clinic and the hospital, she was working harder than she’d ever expected.

“And you have a happy family.”

“Yes,” Shawna admitted proudly. “A brother and my parents.”

The woman nodded, as if she saw their faces in Shawna’s palm. “You will live a long and fruitful life,” she said thickly and then her fingers moved and she traced another line on Shawna’s hand, only to stop short. Her face clouded, her old lips pursed and she dropped Shawna’s wrist as quickly as she had taken it earlier. “Your time is over,” she said gently, kindness sparking in her old brown eyes.

“What?”

“Next,” Lady Fate said, calling toward the flap used as a door.

“That’s all?” Shawna repeated, surprised. She didn’t know much about fortune-telling, but she’d just begun to enjoy the game and some of her five-dollar future was missing.

“Yes. I’ve told you everything. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“Wait a minute. What about my love life?” Glancing at Parker in the shadowed room, Shawna winked.

Lady Fate hesitated.

“I thought you could see everything,” Shawna said. “That’s what your sign says.”

“There are some things better left unknown,” the woman whispered softly as she started to stand.

“I can handle it,” Shawna said, but felt a little uneasy.

“Really, you don’t want to know,” Lady Fate declared, pursing her red lips and starting to stand.

“Of course I do,” Shawna insisted. Though she didn’t really believe in any of this mumbo jumbo, she wanted to get her money’s worth. “I want to know everything.” Shawna thrust her open palm back to the woman.

“She’s very stubborn,” Parker interjected.

“So I see.” The fortune-teller slowly sat down on her pillows as she closed Shawna’s fingers, staring straight into her eyes. “I see there is a very important man in your life—you love him dearly, too much, perhaps.”

“And?” Shawna asked, disgusted with herself when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle with dread.

“And you will lose him,” the woman said sadly, glancing at Parker and then standing to brush some of the straw from her skirt. “Now go.”

“Come on,” Parker said, his eyes glinting mischievously. “It’s time you got rid of that love of your life and started concentrating on me.” He took Shawna by the hand and pulled her from the dark tent.

Outside, the air was hot and muggy but a refreshing change from the sticky interior of the tiny canvas booth. “You set her up to that, didn’t you?” Shawna accused, still uneasy as she glanced back at the fortune-teller’s tent.

“No way! Don’t tell me you believed all of that baloney she tried to peddle you!”

“Of course not, but it was kind of creepy.” Shuddering, she rubbed her bare arms despite the heat.

“And way off base.” Laughing, he tugged on her hand and led her through a thicket of fir trees, away from the crowd and the circus atmosphere of the fair.

The heavy boughs offered a little shade and privacy and cooled the sweat beading on the back of Shawna’s neck.

“You didn’t believe her, did you?” he asked, his eyes delving deep into hers.

“No, but—”

“Just wait ’til the medical board gets wind of this!”

BOOK: Beach Season

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