Camile’s voice interrupted her thoughts, “I’ve noticed there are several titles. Are we letting the kids choose what books they want? Or do they just get what they get?”
Good questions. And an even better distraction from the inevitable encounter with Eli.
* * *
AS ELI AND GALE jogged through the streets of Pacific Cove, or “The Cove” as locals often referred to it, Eli marveled at how little things had changed in the twelve years he’d been away. Mission Street was still the main thoroughfare through town, both sides lined with quaint shops selling sand toys, shells, snow globes, plastic pirate swords and other assorted beach trinkets. Colorful flags were waving outside Kassie’s Kites and the saltwater taffy pull was busy working in the window of the Wishing Well Candy and Fudge Shoppe.
He noticed that Salmon Crackers still smelled like the heavenly fresh-baked buns they served their sandwiches on. On the next block, he was thrilled to see Rascal’s Bookstore still in existence. There was a new coffee shop and the smell emanating from Beach Beans Coffee Roasters made his mouth water.
The first day of December and already Christmas lights and garland were strung on every single light pole in town. Shop windows were painted. Many displayed festive holiday scenes and/or gift ideas.
The end of Mission Street featured a large cul-de-sac with a gazebo overlooking the beach. It was a popular meeting spot and a place where community events often centered. They jogged up to the structure and stood off to one side for a quick breather. A large sign advertised that Santa would be visiting there this coming weekend.
They stood side by side for a moment, gazing out at the stunning view of the horizon. Eli closed his eyes for a few seconds and focused on the roar of the ocean—the unique sound that was Pacific Cove. In spite of everything he was facing here, he was glad to be back. So far in his career he’d lived near the beach in Connecticut, New Jersey, North Carolina and San Diego, California. He was positive that if someone blindfolded him and plopped him down on the shore at any of those locales, he’d able to identify each one.
But the Northwest coast was different to him and Pacific Cove was special. He and his father had moved every few years until Eli was twelve. That’s when they’d landed in Pacific Cove. His father had been lucky enough to score back-to-back assignments here and Eli considered it the closest thing to a hometown he’d ever had.
Connected to this place were a billion memories, most of them including or featuring Aubrey. They had spent so much time on this very stretch of beach. He’d kissed her right here once, at the bottom of the stairs, sheltered from passersby under the edge of the boardwalk.
He felt himself shifting from one foot to the other as a fresh bout of anxiety coursed through him. Clearly, she was upset by the fact that he’d gone into the water after her. She’d barely glanced his way as the team had discussed the events back at the base.
Lt. Cdr. Holmes had explained to Aubrey their fear that she’d been knocked silly by the piece of debris. They’d immediately deployed Eli in case she needed assistance. By the time he’d been lowered into the water, the rest of the crew could see she had the situation handled. The consensus had been that she’d executed her duties perfectly.
But the fact was he’d pushed for it. He hadn’t been able to handle the idea of Aubrey being in danger. He’d wondered if Gale had picked up on it. He’d been waiting for his friend to quiz him about it, could feel his questioning gaze on him now. Gale knew that he, Aubrey and Alex were friends, that they had grown up here together. But Eli hadn’t mentioned that, for a time, he and Aubrey had been more.
“Are you up for a few more miles?” he asked. A sudden urge came over him to run by his old house. “We still have another hour before we meet Danielle Cruz and her parents.” Their first official task of the day was to interview the survivors from yesterday’s rescue.
“Sure,” Gale agreed.
They took off running again, heading east toward the other end of Mission Street. Here it crossed the two-lane Coast Highway, bisecting the town—and its socioeconomics right along with it. The community’s wealthier residents lived in the upscale beachfront and ocean-view mansions. The more modest “middle class” homes began a few blocks from the beach and stretched up toward the highway. The less fortunate and view-deprived lived “across the highway.” It was funny because he and Alex and Aubrey hailed respectively from each of these locales. The St. Johns lived in the grandest of all the grand beachfront homes. The Wynn family enjoyed a comfortable existence in a well-kept bungalow right in the middle of town. And the Pelletiers had made their home “across the highway.”
They turned into the now nearly empty parking lot of the Starfish Charmer where Eli explained, “This establishment used to be the place in town to drink hard and not go home alone.”
Gale chuckled in understanding. They were crossing the lot when a familiar figure emerged from the tavern. Eli watched as the man stopped, shoved his phone into a pocket and raked his hands through his hair. Same gesture of frustration he’d employed since they’d first become friends in the sixth grade.
“Hey, that’s my buddy, Alex.”
Alex saw them, gave a hearty wave and headed in their direction. They stopped and Eli introduced the two men. He silently hoped these two guys, his best friends, would hit it off.
“Are you okay, buddy? You looked a little wound up when you came out of there.”
“Oh, yeah, um...town council business.” Alex looked around like he’d just realized where they were. “What are you doing hanging around in this part of town, anyway?”
Eli lifted his arms in a wide shrug. “What are you talking about? These are my old stomping grounds. I’m showing Gale around.”
Alex chuckled. “True enough.”
“I think the real question is what are you doing here, St. John? Pardon my political incorrectness, but this is slumming for you. I, on the other hand, used to enjoy a basket of clam strips here almost every Saturday night with my dad.”
He glanced toward the somewhat run-down establishment, annoyance again creasing his brow. “Polly Simmons has started yet another petition to shut this place down.”
“On what grounds?”
“She claims it’s unsanitary.” Twisting his face into a grimace, he pointed across the highway and asked, “You guys headed to your old neighborhood?”
“We are. Is it?”
Alex clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll go with you for moral support because it’s going to break your heart, buddy. And, no, it’s not. I wouldn’t eat off the floor, but it’s nowhere near condemnable. Polly is irritated because Jaycie won’t sell the place. Jaycie keeps getting these obscene offers from developers, but she won’t even consider them. This further infuriates Polly because she is on the mayor’s bandwagon where this subject is concerned. Polly and the mayor and their cronies want to turn Pacific Cove into one of those upscale tourist traps full of—” he paused to add air quotes “—‘high-end boutiques and gourmet eateries.’”
He rubbed the back of his neck and then gestured at the Starfish Charmer. “What is wrong with this place the way it is? Once you lose that small-town feel? Bam, it’s gone forever. Am I right?”
He turned and motioned them forward. “Cool your heels, by the way. We’re walking. I couldn’t run across the street if a tiger was chasing me. Honest truth, I would literally lie down and take my chances with a tiger—that’s how out of shape I am.”
They all laughed and started walking.
“So, Gale, what