“I’m being careful,” he promised, almost as if he was reading her thoughts. “I exercised this morning, and I had oatmeal for breakfast.”
“Good boy.”
He rolled his eyes. “The person who needs to eat these sweets is you.” He sat on the footstool and gazed at her, worry tightening his expression. Then he took both her hands in his own. “Will you try to eat something?”
She sighed.
“Please,” he coaxed.
“I’ll have soup.” Because she loved him, Olivia was willing to make the effort, although even the thought of soup or cookies—or anything else—made her feel queasy.
“Tomato?”
“Vegetable beef.”
“I’ll stay until you’re finished,” Jack said.
“Honey…”
“Don’t you mean sugar?” he asked, grinning. “Anyway, no objections allowed.”
“Yes, oh, great and mighty one.” It was important to him to prove that he was capable of handling this stress without turning to alcohol. Sobriety was hard-won for Jack. She knew he’d faltered when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She’d been badly thrown herself. Now, on the other side of surgery, she was confident they’d both survive; she thanked God for that.
While Jack prepared her luncheon tray, Olivia closed her eyes, lulled by the warm sunshine. It seemed only seconds later that he returned, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of soup, two cookies and a small vase with a single rose. He’d even taken the time to fold a linen napkin.
“Have you been watching the Home Decorating channel again?” she teased.
“I thought the rose would brighten your day.” He reached for her hand, raised it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Now, eat.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.” He sat next to her until she’d finished the entire bowl of soup and even nibbled at one of the cookies.
“Satisfied?” she asked. She simply couldn’t eat another bite.
“Yes.” He brought the tray to the kitchen and when he came back, he’d put on his long raincoat, although he seemed reluctant to leave her. “I’ll get home as soon as I can.”
“Jack, I’m fine.”
“Grace is coming over?”
Olivia nodded. “She should be here in an hour or two. And Pastor Flemming said he’d drop by later this afternoon.”
“Good.”
Between Jack, her daughter, her mother, Grace and her brother, Will, she was hardly ever alone. Olivia didn’t mind being by herself, but she understood that this was their way of showing how much they loved her.
A few minutes later, Jack left for the newspaper office, and Olivia settled down with a new women’s fiction title Grace had recommended. The doorbell chimed. When she opened the front door, she was delighted to see Pastor Flemming.
“I hope I didn’t come at a bad time,” he said.
“Not at all,” Olivia told him as they walked into the living room.
“I realize I told you I’d come around four when I talked to you on the phone yesterday, but I had a free hour and thought I’d visit now, if that’s convenient.”
“It’s fine.” Olivia had hoped to take a nap before Grace arrived, but she could go without one. Napping in the middle of the day could easily become addictive, and she couldn’t allow that. As she’d joked to her husband, it wouldn’t look good if she started yawning in court.
“Please sit down.” Olivia gestured toward the chair across from her own.
“How are you feeling?” Dave asked.
“Better, thanks.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” He reached for his Bible and Olivia saw his wristwatch fall to the carpet. Frowning, Pastor Flemming picked it up. “There’s a problem with the clasp. I’ll need to have this repaired.”
“It’s a lovely watch.” Even to Olivia’s untrained eye, this was an expensive one. It seemed well-worn and well-loved; perhaps it had come from his father or grandfather.
“Thank you.” He appeared to be flustered by her compliment and quickly changed the subject. The visit lasted about thirty minutes, long enough to drink yet another cup of tea, and after a short prayer, Pastor Flemming left, first returning their cups to the kitchen.
Olivia did get some reading done before Grace arrived. Much as she looked forward to seeing her friend, she also enjoyed the hour or so of solitude, although more than once she’d almost drifted off as she read.
“Can I get you anything?” Grace asked the instant she stepped inside. Her eyes were somber with concern. “You look tired.”
“I am.”
“Then take a nap.”
“I’d like to, but…what if it becomes a habit?”
Grace shook her head. “Olivia. Your body’s telling you it needs rest. For heaven’s sake, listen to your body!”
This was sensible advice. “I’ll only sleep for an hour.”
“Sleep until you’re ready to wake up.” Grace walked ahead of her into the bedroom to pull back the covers.
“I’ll start dinner while you’re resting,” she said.
“You don’t have to do that,” Olivia told her as she got into bed.
“I know, but I want to.”
Olivia didn’t argue. Like Jack, Grace needed to feel useful. She settled the covers over Olivia and tucked them around her shoulders. Then she drew the curtains, and as quietly as possible, tiptoed out of the room.
Olivia nestled against the thick down pillows and closed her eyes, savoring the indulgence of sleeping in the middle of the day.
Tired as she was, she assumed she’d immediately fall asleep. Instead, her mind took a series of unexpected twists and turns. It struck her as odd that Pastor Flemming would show up unannounced instead of at the time he’d previously set. She’d never known him to do that before.
Although he’d been solicitous and caring, Olivia was left with the distinct impression that something was troubling him. He seemed unusually rushed and unfocused, eager to be about his business.
After fifteen minutes, Olivia realized trying to sleep was pointless. She folded back the blankets and climbed out of bed.
Grace met her in the hallway, hands propped on her hips. “What are you doing up so soon?” she scolded.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Why not? You were about to keel over from exhaustion when I got here.”
Olivia wished she could put her concern about Dave Flemming into words. A visit from the pastor had been a gesture of kindness. It shouldn’t matter that he’d arrived at a time other than the one he’d arranged earlier. Yet it was more than that. She wondered what he was so worried about that he’d actually lost track of the conversation twice.
“Why don’t I make us some tea,” Grace suggested.
“Please.”
They sat in the kitchen, across the round oak table from each other. “Anything new?” Grace asked.
“Well, yes. The pathology report came back and it confirmed that the cancer didn’t spread to my lymph nodes.”
“Oh.” Grace raised both hands to her mouth. “That’s so great!”
Smiling, Olivia nodded. “It’s an incredible relief. Now, what about you—anything new at the library?”
Grace launched into a description of a board meeting she’d attended, and her plans for a Christmas story program for kids. She also mentioned that her new tenant, Faith Beckwith, whom they’d both known in high school, although she’d been Faith Carroll then, had visited the library. Olivia remembered that Will had done the same thing some time ago—and it wasn’t to check out books.
“My brother hasn’t made any inappropriate appearances, has he?” As much as Olivia loved Will, if he tried to get between Grace and Cliff again, she’d never forgive him. Will had begun an Internet—what? dalliance? fling? certainly not a relationship—with Grace. And he’d done it while he was still married, telling her he was divorcing his wife. The divorce came later, at his ex-wife’s instigation.
“Will’s too b
usy with the art gallery to worry about me.” Looking thoughtful, Grace raised her teacup, elbows on the table. “I have to admit that’s a relief.”
Olivia agreed with her. “He needs that kind of goal,” she said. “It should keep him out of trouble for a while.”
Grace nodded. “Cliff came by the library this morning with some news,” she murmured.
“Good news, I hope?”
Grace shrugged as if to suggest she wasn’t sure. “You decide. Cliff told me Cal and Vicki are moving to Wyoming to work with a mustang rescue operation.”
Olivia felt this was both good and bad. Cal had been seriously involved with Linnette McAfee and then broken off the relationship when he fell in love with one of the local vets. From a superficial perspective, it was difficult to understand why a handsome man like Cal Washburn would be attracted to a woman as plain and unassuming as Vicki Newman.
In retrospect, of course, it seemed completely logical. Cal and Vicki shared a passion for horses that had brought them together, a passion more intense than his feelings for Linnette.
“I can only imagine how Corrie’s going to react,” Grace said. “Remember how upset she was when she found out Linnette was leaving town?”
“I would’ve been upset, too.” Olivia sympathized with Corrie.
“The reason Linnette left was so she wouldn’t run into Cal. She didn’t want to see him, especially with Vicki,” Grace added.
“And now Cal leaves the area anyway. Vicki, too.”
“It’s hard to look people in the face when you’ve been humiliated,” Grace said quietly. “I know that from experience.”
Olivia shook her head. “So, when are they going?”
“Soon. It puts Cliff in a difficult position. He’s going to be shorthanded until January, when he can hire someone else.”
“Will he be able to manage?”
“I guess so.” Grace shrugged and sipped her tea. “We’d already agreed to house the animals for the live Nativity scene, but Cliff doesn’t seem worried about that. I told him I’d do what I could to help.”
“So Cal’s leaving before Christmas.”
Grace nodded. “Apparently Vicki’s sold her share of the practice and they’re ready to go.”
“I suppose Cedar Cove will get a new vet.”
“It seems that way,” Grace said. “From what Cliff said, Cal and Vicki are going to California, where Vicki has family, and they’ll be married there.”
“I wish them the best,” Olivia said. She also wished Linnette hadn’t been hurt, but it was too late to avoid that now.
Corrie had told her Linnette was seeing someone in the small North Dakota town where she’d ended up. She seemed to be happy, according to her mother, and Olivia certainly hoped that was the case.
“What’s that?” Grace asked suddenly, sitting up straighter and staring at the floor behind Olivia.
“What’s what?” Olivia echoed, glancing over her shoulder.
Grace stood and walked over to the kitchen sink. There, lying on the mat, was a man’s wristwatch. “This,” she said, picking it up.
“Oh, Pastor Flemming’s lost his watch.” Olivia might not have recognized it if the same thing hadn’t happened earlier.
“Pastor Flemming?” Grace frowned, studying the back of the watch. “That’s not the name inscribed here. It says, ‘Micah Evans. June 23, 1977 for Thirty Years of Loyal Service.’”
“Micah Evans must be some relative,” Olivia speculated. He’d been concerned about losing the watch when it fell off his wrist the first time. It obviously held some emotional significance for him.
Grace continued to frown. “Evans…Evans,” she repeated slowly. “For some reason, that name sticks in my mind.”
“It doesn’t in mine,” Olivia said. “I’d better call to tell him I have his watch, otherwise he’ll wonder.” He’d behaved oddly and seemed almost sorry that she’d seen it. “There appears to be something wrong with the clasp.”
Olivia pulled the telephone directory from the kitchen drawer and set it on the counter, opening it to the Fs.
“Are you calling the church office?” Grace asked as Olivia scanned the listings.
“I thought I’d try his house first,” Olivia said. “He said he’d be out all day. If I contact the church office, he won’t get the message until tomorrow morning, if then. I’ll get in touch with his wife. Let me see. Flemming, D. 8 Sandpiper Way.”
Olivia punched in the number, and Emily Flemming answered on the second ring.
“Dave’s gold watch?” she said when Olivia had identified herself and explained why she was calling.
“Yes, it fell off his wrist while he was here visiting.”
“Oh.” The pastor’s wife sounded tearful.
“I just found it,” Olivia said, “or I would’ve called before.”
“Thank you for letting me know,” Emily Flemming whispered. “Goodbye.”
Olivia hung up the phone with the oddest sensation. “Something isn’t right between Dave and Emily Flemming,” she announced.
“What makes you say that?”
“I’m not sure. Intuition, I guess.” She clapped the phone book shut. “But mark my words, that relationship is in trouble.”
Chapter Twelve
Emily Flemming hung up the phone after her conversation with Judge Griffin and for a long moment didn’t move. She bit her lower lip hard enough to taste her own blood. The news about the lost watch bothered her, but that wasn’t the most upsetting detail.
Fifteen minutes later, she still hadn’t moved.
“Mom!” The front door opened and Matthew slammed into the house. “I’m home,” he yelled. His backpack slid from his shoulders and fell unceremoniously to the kitchen floor.
The door opened again as Mark came rushing in. “What’s for snack?” he demanded, following Matthew into the kitchen.
Generally Emily had something ready for her sons as soon as they got home. Heartsick, she’d forgotten.
She reached for two napkins and the large plastic barrel of pretzels she’d bought earlier in the month at Costco.
“Pretzels,” Mark whined. “Why can’t we have cookies?”
“Because cookies aren’t good for you, stupid,” Matthew muttered.
When Emily didn’t instantly protest, Mark did. “Mom! Matthew called me stupid.”
“Don’t do it again,” she said halfheartedly. She set the napkins on the table and poured a pile of pretzels onto each. The juice she gave them was a special treat; it came in small boxes complete with their own straws.
“What time will Dad be home?” Mark asked, then stuffed his mouth full of pretzels.
“I…I’m not sure.”
“What’s for dinner?” Matthew wanted to know.
Emily glanced over at the stove. When the phone rang she’d been assembling a large pan of lasagna. After speaking to Judge Griffin, she’d gotten sidetracked. The sauce had cooled on the stove as she’d stood by the phone, trying to understand what she’d learned. This shouldn’t be happening, and yet it made a weird kind of sense. It wasn’t as if Emily hadn’t suspected Dave had been lying to her. She’d known all along.
“Mom?” Matthew asked her again. “What’s for dinner?”
“Food, stupid,” Mark said.
“Don’t call your brother stupid,” she returned automatically.
“He called me stupid first.”
Emily would go slowly insane if she had to listen to this constant bickering. “Both of you, to your rooms.” She pointed in the direction of the hallway. They had their own bedrooms since the move to Sandpiper Way, which had been one of the many attractions offered by this house.
“Mom!” Matthew shouted. “We just got home from school.”
“Do your homework!”
“What about study hour?”
“You can do homework then, too.”
“This sucks!” Mark dragged his feet and his backpack down the hallway. She didn’t bother to reproach hi
m for using a word she hated.
Emily waited until her sons were well out of earshot. With her mind in turmoil, she walked over to the telephone and called the church office.
Angel, the secretary, answered right away. “Cedar Cove Methodist,” came her well-modulated voice. “Can I help you?”
“It’s Emily,” she said, trying to sound calm, despite the staccato beating of her heart. “Is Dave there?”
“Oh, hi, Em,” Angel said. “Sorry, he’s been out and about all afternoon. You might want to try his cell. He had it with him when he left the office.”
“He either has it turned off or the battery’s gone dead.” Emily hoped God would forgive her for that lie.
“Can’t reach him then?”
“Right.”
Emily could hear Angel flipping pages of what she assumed must be Dave’s appointment calendar. “It says here that he’s supposed to visit Judge Griffin. She’s home from the hospital now, but I guess you already know that.”
“Is there a time?” she asked.
Angel made a small humming sound. “Four, according to his calendar.”
“Four,” Emily repeated dully. “Four this afternoon?” The secretary’s words confirmed everything she suspected.
“Yup. That’s what it says,” Angel said cheerfully.
“Okay, thanks.” Emily quickly got off the phone. At first she was too numb to think. Then, marching over to the sink, she looked down at the lasagna noodles she’d cooked. Lasagna was one of Dave’s favorite meals. He’d asked her to make it again soon, and like a gullible, simple-minded wife eager to please her husband, she’d happily complied.
Four o’clock.
He’d written down that he’d be visiting Judge Griffin at four this afternoon.
Yet that very morning, Dave had made a point of telling her he’d be home late this evening. Late because he had an appointment with Olivia Lockhart Griffin at six o’clock. Not only that, he’d apparently gone to see her well before the scheduled time of four.
It wasn’t difficult for Emily to surmise what he was doing during those unaccounted for hours.
He was with another woman. Someone he didn’t want her or Angel or anyone in town to know about.
8 Sandpiper Way Page 10
