Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series

by Debbie Macomber

  “I guess congratulations are in order, then—for Janice, that is.” Rosie sounded deflated.

  “Yes…I suppose they are,” he said.

  A few moments later, Zach hung up the phone. An uneasy sensation settled over him. He had an inkling that he was going to end up paying for this lie—and soon.

  Fifteen

  Something was wrong with Jon. Maryellen had been thinking about his strange behavior ever since he’d come to collect Katie the night before. Monday morning, as she pulled into the parking lot at the gallery, her troubled thoughts stayed with her. Harbor Street, which curved around the cove, was bright with Christmas lights arched over the street, and the traditional candy cane displays were suspended in a festive arrangement from the light posts.

  Jon was wonderful with Katie, but lately he didn’t linger for more than a minute or two when he was picking her up. He’d even announced that he planned to drop Katie off at Kelly’s house rather than at Maryellen’s.

  Until recently, Jon seemed to invent excuses to spend time with her, but now everything had changed. The only reason she could imagine was that he was involved with someone else. The possibility brought with it a curious ache, an unfamiliar distress. Maryellen feared this emotion was jealousy, and she hated the way it made her feel.

  By midmorning, she had to know. The first person she asked for advice was her sister. In the first free moment she had between cusomers she called Kelly, who answered right away.

  “Hi,” Maryellen said, forcing a cheerful note into her voice. “I just wanted to make sure Katie’s with you.”

  “She is. Jon dropped her off an hour ago.”

  “Good.” She strove to maintain a casual tone, although her curiosity was killing her. “How did he seem?”

  “Jon? No different than any other time I’ve seen him. He came with Katie, spent a few minutes, exchanged high fives with Tyler and then was out the door. Any reason?”

  Ten responses popped into her mind. “He…he seems different these days.”

  “Different? How do you mean?”

  Maryellen pressed the phone tighter to her ear. She didn’t want to admit he didn’t seem interested in her anymore, especially since that wasn’t even supposed to matter.

  “Doesn’t it seem odd that Jon wants to drop Katie off at your house instead of mine?” she asked.

  “No.” Kelly was nothing if not direct. “It makes sense. If he brings Katie back to you, he has to leave his place by seven-fifteen. If he drops Katie off at my place, he can sleep in and arrive any time he wants.”

  “Oh.” Naturally her sister would say something completely reasonable and make Maryellen feel all the more ridiculous.

  “Why else would he do it?” Kelly asked.

  Maryellen hated to sound paranoid, but her concern had more to do with what she sensed about him than anything he’d said or done. “He…when he came by to pick up Katie yesterday afternoon, he didn’t stay a second longer than necessary.”

  Kelly sighed. “Perhaps he had plans. He does have a life, you know.”

  “I realize that.” Her sister didn’t understand. Jon always used to visit, sometimes for as much as an hour, but not anymore.

  The sad part was that Maryellen had come to anticipate his company. She enjoyed their conversations. When he’d left so quickly on Sunday, she’d moped around the house, not knowing what to make of this sudden change in their routine.

  “If you’re truly bothered, you should ask him,” Kelly advised.

  “I can’t do that!” Her sister meant well, but Maryellen couldn’t pry into Jon’s life. After all, she was the one who’d spurned him.

  “You can ask him indirectly,” Kelly suggested next.

  Maryellen hadn’t dated since her divorce; she was seriously lacking in social finesse when it came to dealing with men. She wished she didn’t care.

  “For heaven’s sake, just ask him,” Kelly said.

  Kelly was sounding impatient, so Maryellen ended the call. “Okay, I will,” she promised.

  She replaced the receiver and thought about what her sister had said—that she could find out what she needed to know by asking indirectly. That was an idea.

  Of course, she could always talk to Justine. She and Seth owned the restaurant where Jon was employed as head chef. They were casual friends, and they’d both had babies during the summer. It would seem perfectly natural to inquire about the restaurant—and Jon. Still, it struck her as an underhanded means of acquiring information.

  Perhaps Kelly was right. She should simply ask Jon.

  Maryellen mulled over how to broach the subject with him and not sound paranoid or interfering. Two days later, she landed on an idea. She’d ask Jon to join her and her family for Christmas. This would be Katie’s first Christmas, and it seemed a shame to be shuffling their daughter back and forth over the holiday. They could all spend the day together. It was a reasonable suggestion, and his answer would tell her everything she needed to know.

  Maryellen bided her time. She waited another week, until Jon was scheduled to pick up Katie again. When he phoned to make the arrangements, she suggested they meet at the waterfront park. It was a bright, beautiful day and the small gazebo had a live Nativity scene. The local Methodist church routinely set this up; church members took turns playing the roles of Mary and Joseph, with live farm animals.

  Jon was waiting for her when she arrived, standing away from the spectators, his camera around his neck. He leaned against the railing and straightened when he saw her approach.

  She raised her hand and waved, and increased her pace as she pushed the stroller toward him. Katie was sound asleep, the diaper bag tucked in the rear of the stroller.

  “I’m getting used to seeing you with shorter hair,” he said, and his gaze lingered on Maryellen for an extra moment, or so it seemed. “You look nice.”

  “Thank you.” This was going better than she’d expected. She felt the warmth in his eyes and it reassured her. “You look good yourself,” she said, recovering quickly.

  He shrugged. He reached for the stroller handles; apparently he was ready to leave. Maryellen’s heart dropped. It was too soon.

  “Do you have a few minutes?” she asked, and started to walk slowly down the path that wandered along the waterfront toward the marina. Many of the sailboats had decorated their masts with bright Christmas lights. In the summer, this area around the waterfront was filled with booths and stands—a local farmers’ market. At other times the paved area by the gazebo was a large parking lot.

  “Sure,” Jon said, matching his steps to hers as he pushed the stroller.

  “I was thinking,” she said, hesitating as her heart began to race. It might be silly to feel this way, but she was nervous and on edge.

  At her pause, Jon turned to look at her.

  “About Christmas,” she added. “I was thinking about the two of us sharing Katie.”

  “I could take her Christmas Eve and you could have her Christmas Day,” Jon suggested.

  “You’ve certainly been flexible with the schedule,” she said appreciatively. In almost every instance, Jon had been agreeable about the schedule alterations she’d required. “But my thought was that you might like to spend Christmas with Katie and me and my family.”

  “And not have her Christmas Eve?”

  “No—no, you could take her then if you wanted, but this is in addition to Christmas Eve.”

  “You’re asking me to join you for Christmas?” His voice was surprised.

  “I’d like it very much if you could come for the day.” She smiled shyly at him. She was shocked by the depth of her desire, shocked by how badly she wanted him with her and Katie.

  For a moment, it seemed as if he was pleased by her invitation. Then, for no reason she could decipher, his grin faded and he turned away from her, physically as well as emotionally. “I appreciate the invite, but I can’t.”

  “You…can’t?” Maryellen didn’t bother to hide her disappointment, al
though she attempted to swallow her hurt.

  “I have other plans.”

  “Oh.” Well, she had her answer, but it wasn’t one she liked. Jon had met someone else. She was sure of it now. “I should’ve invited you earlier, I guess,” she said, recovering quickly. “Perhaps we can get together next Christmas.”

  “Perhaps,” he said, without committing himself.

  Soon afterward, Jon made an excuse and left with Katie. Maryellen walked numbly along the waterfront. She felt rejected and dismayed and upset.

  Not wanting to return to an empty house, she drove to her mother’s place on Rosewood Lane. This was the home where Maryellen had grown up. She loved this old house with the big dormer and the old-fashioned front porch. As a teenager, she’d spent many evenings sitting on those steps.

  Her mother’s car was parked in the garage, with the door left open. Buttercup was outside and barked when she eased to a stop in the driveway. As soon as the golden retriever recognized her, she wagged her tail in greeting. Maryellen stroked the dog’s head and spoke a few words to her mother’s companion, then knocked at the kitchen door and let herself in.

  Grace sat at the computer, intently studying the screen when Maryellen entered.

  “Hi, Mom,” she said in a dejected voice.

  Grace spun around, her eyes wide. “Where did you come from?”

  “I just walked in. I knocked.”

  “Give me a moment.” Her mother turned back to the computer and frantically typed something. Then she closed it down, stood and came into the kitchen, where Maryellen sat at the table.

  “So, what brings you?” her mother asked.

  She was behaving a bit strangely, Maryellen thought, frowning. It was almost as if she’d stumbled upon her mother doing something illegal. Whatever it was, Grace had guilty written all over her. If she hadn’t been so absorbed in her own troubles, Maryellen would have pursued the matter.

  “Mom, I think Jon’s got a girlfriend,” she blurted out, and realized immediately how juvenile that sounded.

  Her mother reached for the teakettle and filled it with tap water. “What makes you say that?”

  “I just know. He’s avoiding me.” She tried to figure out how long this had been going on and couldn’t remember. “I invited him to spend Christmas with me and Katie and the rest of the family. He declined, said he had other plans.”

  Grace sat down at the kitchen table and studied her. “I have a question for you.”

  “All right.” What Maryellen wanted just then was advice and comfort, not questions.

  “Why do you care?”

  “Why do I care?” she repeated, faltering over the words. “Why do I care?” she repeated. “Well…because I just do.”

  “You were the one who insisted you didn’t want Jon in your life.”

  “I don’t,” she blurted out, and knew it was a lie. “I didn’t,” she amended, “but I’ve had a change of heart.”

  “That could be the problem,” her mother said. She got up as the water started to boil.

  “What do you mean?” Maryellen asked.

  “Maybe Jon’s had a change of heart himself.”

  Sixteen

  With only a few days left before Christmas, Corrie McAfee was eager to finish the last of her shopping. She’d assumed that when Roy took early retirement from the Seattle police force they’d travel. Touring Europe was something they’d talked about for years.

  Retirement had sounded so liberating. No alarm clocks; a come-and-go-as-you-please kind of lifestyle. It had been that way at first, but Roy had gone stir-crazy within eighteen months. Shortly after their arrival in Cedar Cove, he’d hung out his shingle as a private investigator.

  Linnette, their twenty-four-year-old daughter, had predicted as much. The older of their two children, she was most like her father. She shared Roy’s insight into people; they both possessed an innate ability to read character and see through pretense. Linnette also had a genuine desire to help people, especially children. In fact, she was receiving her physician’s assistant degree in June. She’d be arriving for the holidays on Wednesday afternoon, and joining Corrie and Roy for the Christmas Eve worship service at church.

  Mack was coming to Cedar Cove, too, but their son wouldn’t get there until Christmas morning. Mack was a mailman in the Seattle area. He’d never enjoyed school or succeeded at it the way his sister had. Corrie believed that, in time, he’d decide to further his education, but if he didn’t, that was fine, too. He was generous, hard-working and honest. Roy, however, had bigger aspirations for his only son, and it had caused a rift between him and Mack. A small one they both chose to ignore, but they weren’t close, and that troubled Corrie.

  “Are you going out?” Roy asked as he left his office and found her wearing her coat.

  “Peggy and I are meeting for lunch,” she told him. “Then we’re off to the mall.”

  Her husband leaned against her desk in a relaxed pose. “You like Peggy, don’t you?”

  Corrie nodded. They’d lived in Cedar Cove nearly four years now and hadn’t established a lot of friendships. In the beginning, Corrie had been busy setting up their home. Later she was involved with helping Roy establish the agency. There’d been overtures of friendship from their neighbors, but Corrie and Roy tended to keep to themselves. That was how it had been in Seattle, and they’d maintained the same approach here. They waved to the neighbors, collected their mail while they were on vacation, but that was about the extent of it.

  Peggy Beldon, however, was someone who genuinely interested Corrie, for a number of reasons. Corrie had a small garden space at the back of their property. Her yard in Seattle had been shaded and too small for anything other than a few flowers. After seeing Peggy’s herb garden, she wanted to plant her own. But Corrie liked Peggy for more than her gardening expertise.

  The day Bob came into the office and Corrie had chatted with Peggy, the other woman had graciously offered Corrie a few seedlings. That was the beginning of their friendship. Twice now, they’d met for lunch to chat, exchange recipes and get to know each other. Both times Corrie had come away with the feeling that she’d made a friend.

  “You don’t mind if I take the time off, do you?” she asked. Her question was a polite formality, since Roy had encouraged the friendship.

  Her husband shook his head. “By all means, tackle the mall. You’re braver than I am by a long shot.”

  “You don’t have any appointments this afternoon?”

  He looked at her absently. Corrie knew him well enough to realize his mind had drifted in another direction altogether. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

  Roy continued to stare into space.

  “Roy?”

  He frowned, and it was clear he hadn’t even heard her the first time. Roy was like this. His thoughts would venture off onto some case and it’d be practically impossible to get his attention.

  “Is it the mystery man again?” she asked. She knew that some part of his brain refused to let this lie. He needed answers, resolution. It was one of the reasons he’d advanced quickly through the ranks of the Seattle Police Department to become a detective, a position he’d held for most of his career.

  “You want my opinion?” she said.

  Roy grinned. “I have a feeling you’re going to give it to me, anyway, so why not?”

  “I suspect this John Doe was lost and looking for a place to stay. You and I both know there are only a couple of motels in town.”

  “Both are off the Interstate,” Roy reminded her.

  “So he took an early exit and got lost. That’s easy enough to do,” Corrie reasoned. “Remember the first time we drove to Cedar Cove?” If he didn’t remember, she certainly did. They’d driven across the Narrows Bridge on a sunny Sunday afternoon, searching out areas in Puget Sound where their retirement income would match the cost of living.

  Corrie had been reading the map and become confused. Consequently, Roy had exited the freeway too soon a
nd they’d found themselves in what was primarily a rural area. They’d driven past small farms and horse ranches and then along stretches of undeveloped waterfront. They’d both grown excited when they realized property values were fifty percent less than they were across the water.

  “I remember,” Roy said. “But if that was the case, the mystery man would’ve had to travel a long way in the dark, on unfamiliar roads, and then he just stumbled onto the Beldons’ bed-and-breakfast.” He rubbed his jaw. “I suppose it’s possible. With the renaming of some streets, anyone, especially a visitor, could get confused.” Part of Lighthouse Road, on the other side of Harbor Street, was now called Cranberry Point.

  “True.” Roy had a point. The Thyme and Tide wasn’t on the beaten path and was miles away from the exit she’d mentioned.

  “So much of his visit to town doesn’t add up,” Roy muttered. “The fact that he had plastic surgery has bothered me from the beginning.”

  “I thought the coroner said it looked like the guy had some kind of accident.”

  “He did,” Roy said, “but Bob said there was something vaguely familiar about him. I keep thinking about that, too.”

  “Let it go,” she urged. “It’s almost Christmas.” If Roy took a break from the case, he might free his mind to explore solutions. It often happened like that; a case would lie fallow for months and then overnight a small piece of evidence her husband had found months earlier—a bit of conversation, a previously unrelated detail—would suddenly click into place. Soon afterward, he’d have the answers he needed.

  “I can’t do that just yet,” he mumbled. “I’ve got a few feelers out.”

  Corrie nearly groaned. The problem was, once Roy asked for favors, he owed just as many in return. It all depended on whom he’d contacted and why. “What sort of feelers?”

  “Not to worry, most of it can be done over the Internet.”