Peggy followed Corrie into the kitchen and leaned against the counter as Corrie set up the hot air popcorn popper. She took a stick of butter from the fridge and cut a generous cube to melt in the microwave. “I can’t bear to eat popcorn without real butter,” she explained. With the machine making its usual racket, Corrie joined her friend at the counter.
“I still can’t believe it…” Peggy let the words fade.
“You’re in shock about Hannah, aren’t you?”
Peggy nodded. “Not for even a second did I suspect she was capable of murder.”
“Have you been to see her at the jail?”
Peggy shook her head. “She’s refused all visitors, including me.”
That must be hurtful to Peggy, Corrie thought as she dumped the popcorn in a large bowl and poured on the melted butter.
“I talked to Troy Davis earlier in the week and he told me Hannah’s decided to take a plea bargain. Once all the legalities have been dealt with, she’ll be transferred to the women’s prison in Purdy.”
“I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you,” Corrie said sympathetically. Peggy had grown close to Hannah over the last few weeks. The horror of learning that the young woman was responsible for her parents’ deaths had, needless to say, distressed her. At this stage, Peggy couldn’t influence the girl’s situation at all. The authorities in California had been notified and were in the process of arresting the friend who’d tampered with her father’s car and bought her the drug. Extradition papers would be filed against Hannah soon. Unless a deal could be made, she’d stand trial in her home state of California.
“I’m so sorry,” Corrie whispered, touching her friend’s arm.
“I know. I am, too. She’s ruined her entire life.” Peggy bowed her head for a moment, then looked up. “What I want to know is when Roy and the sheriff figured it out.”
Not sure what to tell her, Corrie shrugged. “I can’t answer that. Although we work in the same office, my husband usually keeps his suspicions to himself. Half the time I don’t have a clue what’s going through that thick head of his. What I can tell you is that he and Troy discussed the case now and then and compared notes.”
Peggy’s expression was pained, as if she was reliving the moment of Hannah’s arrest.
“My guess is that Roy and the sheriff went over their ideas together and came to the same conclusion,” Corrie said.
“Are you talking about me and my brilliant mind again?” Roy asked as he stepped into the kitchen, Bob directly behind him.
“Obviously we’ve so outplayed you women that you’re ready to admit defeat,” Bob said smugly.
“We could always put on a DVD,” Roy suggested, scooping up a handful of buttered popcorn. “Nothing goes better with popcorn than a movie.”
Bob yawned. “I don’t know if we should. It’s getting to be the witching hour for me.”
“Me, too,” Peggy said reluctantly. She turned to Corrie. “Dinner was wonderful. An evening out was just what Bob and I needed to get our minds off this mess.”
“It was our pleasure,” Roy said. He slipped his arm around Corrie’s waist and they accompanied their friends to the front door. When Corrie had retrieved their jackets from the hall closet, Roy politely held Peggy’s for her.
“Look,” Peggy said when they opened the door. “Someone left you a gift.”
A beautifully arranged fruit basket stood on the porch. Filled with apples, oranges, bananas, grapes and a variety of nuts and chocolate, it was wrapped in silvery cellophane and decorated with a large plaid bow.
“Who would send us something like this?” Corrie asked, surprised and pleased, but when she bent to reach for it, Roy stopped her.
“A more important question is who’d drop it off without ringing our doorbell?” His arm restrained her from lifting the basket. “Leave it where it is,” he said, frowning.
Corrie stared at her husband. “Do you think it’s the same person who mailed us those postcards?” she asked, her voice low.
“I don’t know.”
“It looks like there’s a card with the fruit,” Peggy said.
Before Roy could object, Peggy pulled it from the basket. Corrie blinked, half-afraid something might explode in her friend’s face. She sighed with relief when nothing happened.
“Maybe it’s an early Thanksgiving gift.” Peggy handed the card to Roy. “We’d better go.”
Bob nodded and after another round of thank-yous and farewells, they headed toward their car.
“Open it,” Corrie said even before the Beldons had pulled away from the curb.
“In a minute,” Roy muttered. He stepped into the house and Corrie followed him. Roy examined the envelope. It was addressed to the McAfees at 50 Harbor Street, so the fruit had been delivered to the right house. Roy held the small envelope up to a light before he tore it open.
Inside was a single piece of typed paper.
“What does it say?” Corrie asked urgently. She didn’t want Roy hiding anything from her. It was only by chance that she’d learned about the postcards.
Roy scanned the letter and gave it to her.
I don’t mean you any ill will. I just want you to think about what you did. Don’t you have a single regret?
Corrie quickly read the note and looked up at her husband with frightened eyes. “What does this mean?” she asked.
Roy shook his head. “I have no idea. I guess we’ll have to wait for the next message.”
He placed his arm around Corrie’s waist. He didn’t have the answer yet, but he would soon. He’d cleared too many cases not to succeed at solving this one.
Whoever was doing this, it was personal. Sending the fruit basket to 50 Harbor Street had breached the sanctity of his home. But he’d find out who’d done this.
His instincts still told him that he and Corrie weren’t in physical danger. But there were other dangers, less obvious ones, and Roy knew they could cause just as much harm.
He wasn’t prepared to let anyone risk the haven he and Corrie had found in Cedar Cove.
DEBBIE MACOMBER
50 Harbor Street
To Mary Lou Carney
whose friendship and wisdom
have been a special blessing to me.
Contents
Cast of Characters
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Dear Friends,
Welcome to the fifth in
stallment of the Cedar Cove series. Whether this is the first Cedar Cove book you’re reading or the fifth, my hope is that you’ll feel right at home.
Some of you have written to complain that a year is too long between stories, and all I can tell you is that I’m writing as fast as I can! One reader sent me a note to say that if she had to wait an entire year to find out who was mailing those postcards to Roy McAfee, she’d need to go into therapy. I wrote her back and said it was either her or me…. I appreciate your patience, though, and I think you’ll find that 50 Harbor Street was worth the wait. Like some of the residents of Cedar Cove you’ll find a few surprises—and a new romance in the making. And I hope there’ll be a lot of smiles and a laugh or two along the way.
I always enjoy hearing from my readers. You can reach me through my Web site by signing the guest book at debbiemacomber.com. Click the Cedar Cove button and you’re in for some fun. If you aren’t online, you can write me at P.O. Box 1458, Port Orchard, WA 98366. Three or four times a year I provide updates on the characters—letters from the characters themselves—and they often have a recipe they want to share.
So make yourself a cup of tea and settle down with your friends from Cedar Cove. Olivia, Jack, Grace, Charlotte, Ben, Roy, Corrie and everyone else—they’re all eager to fill you in on what’s happening in town. They’re delighted you’re back. And so am I!
Warmest regards,
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Some of the Residents of Cedar Cove, Washington
Olivia Lockhart Griffin: Family court judge in Cedar Cove. Mother of Justine and James. Married to Jack Griffin. Lives at 16 Lighthouse Road.
Jack Griffin: Newspaper reporter and editor of The Cedar Cove Chronicle. Recovering alcoholic. Married to Olivia. Father of Eric, who lives in Nevada with his wife, Shelly, and their twin boys.
Charlotte Jefferson: Mother of Olivia. Now married to widower Ben Rhodes.
Justine (Lockhart) Gunderson: Daughter of Olivia. Married to Seth Gunderson. Mother of Leif. The Gundersons live at 6 Rainier Drive.
Seth Gunderson: Justine’s husband. Co-owner, with Justine, of The Lighthouse restaurant.
James Lockhart: Olivia’s son and Justine’s younger brother. In the Navy. Lives in San Diego with his wife, Selina, and daughter Isabella.
Stanley Lockhart: Olivia’s ex-husband and father of James and Justine. Now lives in Seattle.
Will Jefferson: Olivia’s brother, Charlotte’s son. Married and lives in Atlanta.
Grace Sherman: Olivia’s best friend. Librarian. Widow of Dan Sherman. Mother of Maryellen Bowman and Kelly Jordan. Involved in an on-again, off-again relationship with Cliff Harding. Lives at 204 Rosewood Lane.
Cliff Harding: Retired engineer and now horse breeder living near Cedar Cove. Divorced father of Lisa, who lives in Maryland.
Cal Washburn: Horse trainer, employed by Cliff Harding.
Maryellen Bowman: Oldest daughter of Grace and Dan Sherman. Mother of Katie. Married to Jon Bowman.
Jon Bowman: Photographer, married to Maryellen. Father of Katie.
Zachary Cox: Accountant, married to Rosie. Father of Allison and Eddie Cox, aged seventeen and eleven. Lives at 311 Pelican Court.
Anson Butler: Boyfriend of Allison Cox.
Cecilia Randall: Navy wife, living in Cedar Cove. Accountant, working for Zach Cox. Married to Ian Randall, submariner. Lost a baby (Allison). Is now pregnant.
Rachel Pendergast: Works at the Get Nailed salon. Friends with Bruce Peyton and his daughter, Jolene. Romantically involved with sailor Nate Olsen.
Bob and Peggy Beldon: Retired. Own the Thyme and Tide Bed and Breakfast at 44 Cranberry Point.
Roy McAfee: Private investigator, retired from Seattle police force. Two adult children, Mack and Lynnette. Married to Corrie.
Corrie McAfee: Roy’s wife and office manager. The McAfees live at 50 Harbor Street.
Lynnette McAfee: Daughter of Roy and Corrie. Moves to Cedar Cove to work as a nurse practitioner in the new medical clinic.
Gloria Ashton: Police officer for Bremerton force. Lynnette’s friend and neighbor.
Troy Davis: Cedar Cove sheriff.
Pastor Flemming: Local Methodist minister.
One
Corrie McAfee was worried. And she knew that her husband, Roy, was too.
Who wouldn’t be? Starting in July, Roy—a private investigator—had received a series of anonymous postcards, and while the messages weren’t overtly threatening, they were certainly distressing.
The first communication, which had been mailed to the office, spoke of regrets. During the intervening weeks, there’d been several others. Corrie had read each postcard so often she’d memorized them all. The first one stated: EVERYONE HAS REGRETS. IS THERE ANYTHING YOU’VE DONE YOU WISH YOU COULD DO OVER? THINK ABOUT IT. There hadn’t been a signature then, or on any of the other cards. They’d arrived at infrequent intervals and been mailed from different locations. The cryptic messages kept playing in her mind. The passing of time hadn’t helped; she was as much in the dark now, in October, as when she’d seen that first postcard.
There was a final gasping, gurgling sound as the coffee drained into the glass pot. The noise distracted Corrie from her worries for a moment—long enough to glance out the wide office window that overlooked downtown Cedar Cove, Washington. Serving as Roy’s secretary and assistant had its advantages, and in this instance, disadvantages. Sometimes ignorance truly was bliss; the current situation was definitely one of those cases. She’d sleep better if she’d never learned about the mysterious postcards.
And yet…even if Roy had managed to keep them hidden from her, she would still have known—because the last message had been hand-delivered, at night, to their front door. Not to the office like the others, but to their home. Late one evening, someone had walked up the sidewalk and onto the porch of their house. As it happened, Roy and Corrie were entertaining dinner guests that night—and had opened the door to discover that an unknown person had left a fruit basket and an accompanying note. Chills raced up Corrie’s spine at the thought that this person knew their home address.
“Is that coffee ready yet?” Roy called from inside his office. Apparently she hadn’t delivered it fast enough.
“Hold your horses—it’s coming.” Corrie didn’t mean to snap at her husband. Normally she wasn’t short-tempered. This uncharacteristic outburst revealed how upset she was by everything that was happening to them. Sighing, she filled a clean mug for Roy and carried it, steam rising, into his office.
“Okay, that does it,” she said, putting the coffee on the corner of his desk. “We have to talk.”
As if he didn’t have a care in the world, Roy leaned back in his chair and locked his fingers behind his head. They’d been married for twenty-seven years, and Corrie found him as attractive now as she had in college. Roy had played football for the University of Washington and been a “big man on campus,” as they used to say. He was tall and broad-shouldered, still muscular, his posture as straight as ever. He stayed in good shape without apparent effort, and Corrie envied, just a bit, the fact that he’d never gained any weight. His dark hair had thinned and was streaked with gray, which only added a look of dignity to his appearance.
Of all the women he dated during college, he’d fallen in love with her. Theirs hadn’t been an easy courtship, though. They’d broken up for more than a year, and then reunited. Once they were back together, they realized how much they loved each other; there’d been no uncertainty about their feelings. They were married shortly after graduation and their love had endured through trials and tribulations, through good years and bad. They’d had plenty of both.
“Talk about what?” Roy asked casually.
His nonchalance didn’t fool Corrie. Her husband knew exactly what was on her mind. “Does THE PAST HAS A WAY OF CATCHING UP WITH THE PRESENT tell you anything?” she murmured, sitting down in the chair normally reserved for clients. She wanted Roy to understand that she wouldn’t be put off ea
sily. She was afraid he knew more about these postcards than he’d let on. It would be just like him to try to protect her.
Roy frowned. “Those messages don’t have anything to do with you, so don’t worry about it.”
His answer infuriated her. “How can you say that? Everything that happens to you affects me.”
He seemed about to argue, but after all these years, he recognized that she wasn’t going to be satisfied with glib reassurances. “I’m not sure what to tell you. I’ve made enemies and, yes, I have regrets, but who doesn’t?”
Roy had reached the rank of detective for the Seattle Police Department and been forced into early retirement because of a back injury. In the beginning, Corrie had been excited to have her husband at home. She’d hoped they’d be able to travel and do some of the things they’d always planned, but it hadn’t worked out that way. Roy had the time now, but their finances had been adversely affected when he’d had to take early retirement. Their income was less than it had been by at least twenty percent. In a money-saving effort, they’d moved from Seattle and across Puget Sound to the community of Cedar Cove. The cost of property was much more reasonable in Kitsap County, which also offered a slower pace of life. When the real estate agent showed them the house at 50 Harbor Street, with its wide front porch and sweeping view of the cove and lighthouse, Corrie knew immediately that this house and this town would become their home.
Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series Page 125
