Page 66 of Echoes at Driftwood Cottage

Rowan scribbled the name down on her notepad. “Would she know what happened to Dodge Nichols?”

“Absolutely. She tried to find out where he ended up after he sold the property and absconded with all the drug money. Some say Mexico. Some say he went to live in Aruba. Phoebe thought he went to the Balkans where there’s no extradition treaty with the US. She knows everything there is to know about Dodge Nichols.”

Daniel got to his feet. “Where can we find her?”

“Meet me at the front desk and I’ll give you her cell phone information. You’ll have to take it from there and convince her that you don’t have nefarious intentions.”

They trailed after Barbara to the reception area where she handed them a piece of paper. “Call Phoebe and explain why you’re looking for Dodge Nichol.”

“We’re not actually looking for him per se,” Rowan said, reaching into her backpack for the photos of the Dewhurst family. She shoved the pictures across the desk. “We’re trying to find anyone who might remember these people—Jim, Lynette, or Gwynn Dewhurst.”

After flipping on her reading glasses, Barbara’s eyes widened. She looked up from the photos. “Who are you people?”

“Daniel Cardiff and Rowan Eaton,” Daniel replied. “We’re here for the day from Pelican Pointe trying to learn as much as we can about an incident that happened in November 1999.”

“Right after Thanksgiving,” Rowan inserted. “Saturday the 27th to be exact.”

“What kind of incident?” Barbara wanted to know.

“Some type of accident that might’ve resulted in a death that occurred at a private residence over that weekend. Maybe even out at the commune. We’re grasping at straws here.”

Now seeming to regret her friendliness, Barbara’s tone became frosty. She handed the pictures back to Rowan. “I don’t know anything about that.”

“Okay. Well, um, thanks for Phoebe’s phone number anyway,” Rowan acknowledged, turning to leave.

Outside on the sidewalk, she exchanged looks with Daniel. “Did you see the way she acted after getting one look at the Dewhursts?”

Daniel took out his cell phone to call the reporter. “Are you kidding? She practically iced over right in front of our eyes.”

Rowan felt a tap on the shoulder and whirled around to see the volunteer standing a few feet away. “Oh. Hi. What’s up?”

“I know one of the people in that photograph,” Barbara admitted. “Gwynn Dewhurst. We used to hang out together at the beach in Half Moon Bay. We were kids. Teenagers. She wasn’t always a drug addict.”

“When did you stop hanging out together?” Rowan wanted to know. “When she got involved with Celestial Moon and Dodge Nichols?”

Barbara nodded. “It’s weirder than that I’m afraid. As a teenager, every time she argued with her parents, she’d end up out there with Nichols. I have no idea what the relationship was or how deep it went. But that behavior of hers went back years. If they fought about her breaking curfew, she’d run to Nichols. Then, her parents would always show up and take her back to Pelican Pointe. At times, she acted like a spoiled brat getting shuffled between divorced parents.”

“Huh. Did you ever hear about Gwynn giving birth to a daughter?”

“Not that I know anything about.”

On a whim, Rowan shifted her feet and asked, “Did you ever hear about a boat called the Celestial Moon that sunk over Christmas vacation at the end of 1999?”

“Is that the one owned by Nichols? I remember one of his boats sinking.”

Daniel looked confused. “Let me make sure I understand what you’re saying. Dodge Nichols owned the Celestial Moon? The sailboat?”

“Of course. At one time he used it in one of his so-called legitimate money-making schemes to sail tourists around Richardson Bay. Rumors said he used the boat to run drugs across the Bay Area. When people started to talk, that’s when Dodge got rid of it, sold it off.”

“How do we check boat records?” Rowan wondered.

Daniel shrugged. “It’s at the bottom of the ocean. But it sounds like Nichols must’ve sold it to Royce Snelling, the uncle. We’ll check it out later. Right now we need to find this reporter and ask about the commune.”

Phoebe Jamieson turned out to be a vivacious brunette in her forties who lived in Redwood Shores with her successful gamer of a husband. A former anchor at one of the local TV stations, she had a mile-wide smile, big brown eyes and a no-nonsense attitude about everything.

She opened the door to her spacious waterfront home and ushered them into a bright, airy study. “I was surprised to get your call. You’re the first people who’ve been interested in Dodge Nichols since 2010. That’s how long it’s been since I last reported a sighting of him in Bulgaria living under the name Boris Petruska.”

While Rowan and Phoebe got comfortable on a long sofa, Daniel continued to stand, anxious to learn more about the Dewhurst connection to Nichols. “Maybe you could explain how a TV anchor became interested in a commune headed by a drug runner as its self-described guru?”

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