“Did you think this would be easy?” she said to Buttercup. Sherlock scratched at her leg until Grace lifted him onto her lap. She petted him with one hand and typed with the other while she considered the possibilities. It could be that Cliff had deleted the e-mail without even opening it. Or decided to ignore it. Or perhaps he hadn’t checked his messages lately.
She e-mailed him a second time and mailed off a card the following morning. Eventually she’d wear him down, as Lisa had said. Eventually he’d see she wasn’t going away. She loved Cliff. He was the best thing in her life and she refused to give him up.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Bob!” Peggy shouted from the foot of the stairs. “Phone!”
Bob laid down the script of Chicago-he’d been memorizing his lines-and walked to the top of the stairs. He’d been so intent on the scene, he hadn’t even heard the phone ring.
“Who is it?” he called.
Wearing her “Kiss the Cook” apron, Peggy stood there looking up at him. “He didn’t say.”
Mumbling under his breath, Bob hurried to the master bedroom and picked up the phone. “Hello,” he muttered impatiently.
“Robert Beldon? This is Colonel Stewart Samuels.”
The crisp military tones went through Bob like an electrical charge. It was the voice of a man he’d hoped never to hear from again. The voice of the man who’d led him into battle. A soldier who’d stood with him in a Southeast Asian jungle. Who’d saved his life and then, at the same moment, robbed him of it.
“Yes.” With difficulty he managed to respond.
“I’m going to be in the Seattle area in the next few weeks. We need to talk.”
It’d been more than thirty years since Bob had last spoken with his commanding officer. He could go another thirty years and it would suit him just fine. So far, the only person in contact with Samuels had been Troy Davis. Bob would’ve preferred to keep it that way.
The colonel continued, giving the details of his trip to the Pacific Northwest. Bob stood rigid until the other man announced he intended to visit Cedar Cove.
“Is that necessary?” Bob demanded. Seattle was too close for comfort, but having him in Cedar Cove for any length of time was downright intimidating.
“I believe it is. There’s a matter between us that requires resolution.”
How formal he sounded. So cold-blooded and hard.
“Two of our comrades are dead, one a suicide and one murdered,” he said. “I’m hoping we can figure this out, once and for all. Agreed?”
“Yes, I-” Bob wasn’t given a chance to finish his sentence.
“Good. I’ll have my assistant make the arrangements.”
Before Bob could comment further, the phone went dead. Bob stood there unseeing, his hand still on the receiver. After a moment, he replaced the phone and slowly, almost as if he were in a trance, walked down the stairs.
Peggy was in the kitchen with Hannah preparing dinner. When she saw him she abruptly stopped mashing the potatoes.
“Who was that on the phone?” she asked, walking toward him.
He stared at her, still numb inside. “Colonel Samuels.”
“Stewart Samuels?” Hannah repeated, moving closer to Peggy.
Peggy glanced at Bob and then at Hannah. “What did he want?”
“He’s coming to Cedar Cove.”
Hannah let out a small cry of alarm and quickly covered her mouth. “What’s he coming for, did he say?”
Peggy wrapped her arm around the young woman’s shoulders. “Why are you so afraid?”
Bob wasn’t sure if the question was directed at him or Hannah, but their guest was the one who answered.
“He’s just so…military.”
“I thought you were grateful to him for all his help with your father,” Peggy said, looking at Hannah.
“I was…I am. Dad never would’ve gotten the medical care he needed if it hadn’t been for Colonel Samuels. But…he frightens me.” She trembled as if a chill had overtaken her.
“Bob?” His wife turned to him for answers he couldn’t give. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. He said he had business in the area and felt we should talk. He asked that I set up a meeting with Roy and the sheriff, too.”
Peggy frowned. “Does he think Dan Sherman’s death and Hannah’s father’s are linked?”
“I don’t know.” But it was more than that. Samuels had indicated that he had business with him, too. Bob didn’t want to see Stewart Samuels, didn’t want to be reminded of the past, and yet it was there, confronting him, and had been every day since his return from Vietnam.
That night, unable to sleep, Bob lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. The digital clock by the telephone told him it was after two, but he was wide awake. Peggy slept peacefully beside him, oblivious to his anguish.
A full moon cast shadows on the walls. With the window open, the scent of the cove, of seawater, wafted toward him. He usually found it relaxing, but tonight his mind refused to let him rest. Every time he closed his eyes, all Bob could see, hear, taste and smell was Vietnam. Tension filled him. He didn’t want to go back to those memories, didn’t want to think about them, didn’t want to feel.
Suddenly he heard the glass door off the kitchen sliding open. Bob’s eyes widened with fear. He lay perfectly still as the noise drifted up the stairwell-a noise so slight Bob was sure he must be mistaken. As he strained to hear, the sound of muffled footsteps sent fear shooting through his veins. His adrenaline kicked in and he folded back the sheet and sat on the edge of the bed. Sweat broke out across his forehead. Leaning forward, he closed his eyes to listen more closely, hoping this was his imagination, after all. But the warnings Roy had given him rushed through his mind and he remembered the car that had followed him.
Bob looked around for something he could use to defend himself.
He found nothing. His golf clubs were in the garage, and the sturdiest thing he could take with him was a work boot.
Peggy stirred. Even in her slumber she must have sensed his fear. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.
He brought his finger to his lips. “Someone’s downstairs.”
Bob felt his wife stiffen. She grabbed his arm and scrambled to a sitting position.
“How did they get in?”
“The patio door.”
“Did you lock it?”
He nodded.
“Should we phone 911?” Peggy whispered.
A board creaked at the bottom of the stairs. Whoever was in the house was coming after them. It was too late to call the sheriff’s office. Both Bob and Peggy froze in horror.
Nothing.
In that one beat of his heart, Bob acted. He refused to sit and wait. If someone had come to kill him, he wasn’t going to die without putting up a hell of a fight. Roaring off the bed, he stormed out of the room.
Peggy cried out in an effort to stop him. Fumbling with the light, she lunged for the phone as Bob flew out of the bedroom and into the hallway. He smacked the light switch with his palm.
There, standing at the foot of the stairs, was Hannah. She gasped at the sight of him.
“Hannah!” he cried, furious with her for the scare she’d given him. “It’s Hannah,” he shouted back at his wife.
“What the hell are you doing sneaking around the house at this time of night?” he demanded.
She cowered before him, quaking, with her head bowed. Her long hair spilled over her shoulders and hid her face.
“Hannah, for heaven’s sake, what are you doing?” Peggy ran down the stairs, tying her robe as she did.
“I…I-”
Bob found a folded sheet of paper on the downstairs hall carpet and leaned down to pick it up. A glance told him it was a farewell note from Hannah.
“I…I thought it was time for me to go,” the young woman said, her voice so low it was hard to distinguish the words.
“But why would you sneak away in the middle of the night?” Peggy asked.<
br />
Hannah shrugged one shoulder.
Apparently the I-don’t-know shrug was supposed to explain everything.
“I’m afraid!” she wailed. Seconds later, she broke into sobs.
Peggy immediately slipped an arm around Hannah and guided her into the kitchen. Hannah’s suitcase sat in front of the patio door. Apparently she’d opened it and then decided to leave a note at the foot of the stairs.
Bob collapsed at the kitchen table, so badly shaken he couldn’t stop trembling. He wanted to scream at Hannah, frighten her the way she’d frightened him, but he knew he dare not.
“Why are you afraid?” Peggy asked gently once she’d sat Hannah down. She filled the kettle and put it on the stove for tea.
“I don’t know…I lost both my parents. I can’t bear the thought of losing you, too.”
“Why do you think you would?” Peggy asked quietly.
“Because…”
“Does this have to do with Colonel Samuels’s visit?” Peggy asked next.
Hannah didn’t answer, but Bob suspected Peggy was right. For her own reasons, their guest was as worried about the man’s visit as he was himself.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Olivia hung her robe in her chamber closet and collected her purse, preparing to leave the courthouse at the end of another long day. Couple after couple stood before her with their lives in shambles, eager to tear apart their homes, willing to destroy their children’s security. Each partner seemed intent on proving that he or she was perfectly capable of surviving without the other. There was so much anger and bitterness, so much false pride. Some days she found her task of deciding the fate of these families overwhelming.
She glanced at her watch as she headed toward the parking lot. She was meeting Grace for dinner that evening. It was the first time since Olivia’s marriage that Grace had asked to see her outside of their aerobics class on Wednesday night. They phoned each other fairly regularly and occasionally met at the Farmers’ Market on Saturday mornings, but her marriage had changed their relationship. They were each discovering how to proceed under these new terms.
Olivia welcomed the opportunity to talk to her lifelong friend. There were things she wanted to discuss-things she couldn’t really talk about with anyone else. And something in Grace’s voice told her she had concerns of her own.
Once in her car, she drove the short distance between the courthouse and The Lighthouse restaurant. Her daughter and son-in-law had done a marvelous job and she was proud of their success. Still, as a mother, Olivia worried. Justine was working too hard; she was a young wife and mother, in addition to managing the restaurant’s books and occasionally filling in as hostess.
As luck would have it, Justine was working that night. Her face brightened when she saw Olivia. “Hey, Mom,” she said with a quick hug. “It’s good to see you.”
There’d been a time in the not-so-distant past when their relationship had been strained. Justine had been seeing a much older man, and she’d felt defensive and angry at the world. Olivia had wanted so much more for her. She knew that, in some ways, Justine was still grieving over the death of her twin-Jordan had died in a tragic accident at the age of 13. But Justine had finally come to a more peaceful acceptance. Olivia felt that was because of Seth. In fact, everything had changed when Justine fell in love with Seth Gunderson.
“Where’s Jack?” Justine asked, looking past Olivia.
“The office, where else?” Jack worked far too many hours, but nothing Olivia said convinced him to delegate some of his tasks. He was involved in every aspect of the newspaper and loved his job. Now that The Chronicle had gone to five editions a week, his hours were even worse than they’d been before their marriage. They’d argued about it repeatedly, but Olivia supposed she might as well get used to having a part-time husband. Jack had promised this wouldn’t last much longer, but she suspected nothing was going to change until he retired. If then…
Justine seated her at a window table, then returned to the front of the restaurant and talked to one of the waitresses. It was still early in the evening and the restaurant was only about a third full. As soon as she had someone to cover for her, she walked back to Olivia’s table.
“Got a moment?” she asked.
“Of course.” Grace wouldn’t arrive for at least ten min-utes.
Her daughter pulled out the chair across from her. “How are things with Grandma?” she asked.
Olivia sighed and wondered how much of the story her daughter knew. Probably all of it. “We’re talking again.”
Justine smiled, obviously relieved. “Grandma’s going to marry Ben, you know?”
Olivia was well aware of that. “She sent me a letter.” It hurt that her own mother had written instead of telling her face-to-face. “I didn’t mean to hurt her,” she admitted. “Will and I had Ben investigated for her own protection, but our concern backfired.”
“I know.” At least Justine sounded sympathetic.
“Mom was upset about our lack of faith in her,” Olivia said. She must have known instinctively how her mother would feel because she’d found it necessary to hide their inquiries from Charlotte.
“What else did she say in her letter?”
“She said everyone deserves to be happy, regardless of age, and reminded me how pleased she was when I married Jack.”
“She’s right, you know,” Justine murmured.
“Of course she is.” Olivia had no disagreement with that. “She wants Will and me to treat Ben fairly and with respect. The same goes for his sons, of course.” She frowned. “I don’t think she’s met them, though, at least not yet.” With a quick shrug, she added, “Naturally I intend to respect Mom’s wishes. It’s been a bit difficult, thinking of my mother with another man, but it’s her life and I want her to be happy.”
Justine agreed. “I never said anything when you decided to marry Jack,” her daughter said softly. “But deep down, I wanted you and Dad to get back together. I knew it would never work, but the little-girl part of me wanted my parents to love each other again.”
Olivia was shocked to see tears in her daughter’s eyes. Justine blinked furiously, as though embarrassed. “I still think about Jordan,” she whispered.
“So do I.”
Justine nodded. “Do you remember what day it is?”
Olivia realized with a jolt that she’d been so preoccupied with what was happening in her own life she’d let the date slip. On this day, August tenth, eighteen years ago, her son had drowned. Her entire life and those of her two surviving children had been divided by that date. The time before Jordan’s death and the time after.
Wiping the tears from her face, Justine forced a smile. “I didn’t mean to get all maudlin. Let’s get back to Grandma, before we both dissolve.”
Olivia agreed and swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I stopped at Mom’s house earlier in the week and we hugged for the first time since she found out, and she forgave me. I’m sure she’ll tell you herself, but they’ve set the date for their wedding.”
Justine grinned sheepishly. “I know all about that. Grandma came in earlier today and booked the restaurant for the reception. She talked to Uncle Will, and he said he’s coming out for the wedding.”
Olivia was glad to know that, because she wanted to give Grace ample warning. When Will arrived, Olivia planned to have a long talk with her brother about his Internet relationship with her best friend. He’d taken advantage of Grace and betrayed his wife, Georgia. Olivia was furious whenever she thought about it.
“Hi, you two,” Grace said, coming toward them. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“No, no,” Justine said, rising gracefully from the chair. “I was keeping Mom company until you got here.” She looked at Olivia, winked and was on her way.
Funny how just a few minutes with her daughter could mean so much. Olivia felt close to Justine and to her son James, too, and considered herself fortunate to have such wonderful children.
“Sorry I’m late,” Grace said as she sat down across from Olivia. “It took forever to finish up at the library.”
“Don’t worry about it. Justine and I had a chance to talk and we don’t get to do that nearly often enough.”
“I know how she feels,” Grace muttered. “You and I have barely any time together these days.”
“I’m sorry,” Olivia told her friend, and she was sincere. She had been neglecting their friendship, but was determined not to let that continue. “How’s your week been?”
Grace shrugged noncommitally. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. What about you?”
Olivia smiled. “The same. Jack and I are still adjusting to living together, which hasn’t been as easy as I’d hoped, but you know most of that.” She’d complained often enough during their aerobic workouts on Wednesday nights. “Mom and I are talking now and she’s forgiven me. Oh, and before I forget, Will’s coming out for the wedding.”
Grace paled visibly but didn’t comment.
“Now, what’s new with you?” Olivia asked.
To her surprise, Grace grabbed a tissue from her purse. “I have something to tell you, but I’ll probably cry.”
Olivia was aghast. “What is it?”
“Last week I got a letter from Mike Sherman, Dan’s cousin in Oregon.” She paused a moment to collect herself before continuing. “He wrote after Dan’s death and we’ve talked a couple of times since, but this came out of the blue.”
“What did?”
Grace nervously folded the edges of the linen napkin. “Mike really feels bad about this, but he thought it was time I knew that Dan borrowed thirteen thousand dollars from him. Apparently he asked for the loan a year or so before he vanished. Mike didn’t want to say anything after Dan disappeared.”
“Oh, no-he wants the money back now?”
Grace nodded. “He hated to ask, but he provided the paperwork and sure enough, that’s Dan’s signature on the promissory note. Mike said it’s been over four years and he needs the money. He seems to think I got some life insurance settlement after Dan’s body was discovered.”
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