“See? That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” he asked.
Olivia moved next to him, sinking shoulder-deep into the bubbling water. Rather than respond, she sighed again, a sigh of pure contentment. She was oh, so glad Jack had urged her to set aside her inhibitions and join him.
“You know, you’ve got a very attractive body,” he said. “I don’t know why you insist on hiding it.”
Olivia shook her head. “Do you know how old I am?”
“Yes—and what’s that got to do with anything?”
“Plenty. I’ve had children, Jack, and my body is far from perfect.”
“Hey, if I wanted to date a twenty-year-old model—” He gave a quick laugh. “Hell, a twenty-year-old model wouldn’t be seen dead with an old fart like me.”
Olivia smiled, too. “We make a good couple, don’t we?” She rested her head against his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “We do, Judge O. Especially when we’re practically naked in a hot tub together.”
“Jack!” She giggled. She was enjoying herself but refused to give him credit; if she did, she’d never hear the end of it.
“Come on,” he said, “tell me I was right.”
“Would you mind gloating silently?” she muttered, letting her eyes drift shut.
“How’s Grace doing?” Jack suddenly asked.
Olivia groaned. She’d been deeply concerned for her friend. “Better, I think.” Grace had come to Olivia last Saturday afternoon, as upset as Olivia had ever seen her. Despite several attempts, Olivia wasn’t able to pry the entire story out of her, but apparently Grace had done something to offend Cliff and he’d decided it would be best if they no longer saw each other.
“Have you talked to her recently?” Jack said.
“I saw her Wednesday night. Why?”
Jack rested his chin on top of Olivia’s head. “I think she might be volunteering for the Humane Society.”
“Oh, yes, she did say something about that.” Olivia approved; Grace seemed to have a lot of time on her hands all at once. She’d always been fond of animals. Buttercup had brought her comfort and companionship when Grace had most needed it. This volunteer position was something she could do to help animals, and perhaps a human or two. Olivia also suspected that Grace saw it as a way of making up for not getting Buttercup to the vet more quickly, not noticing the symptoms sooner. She tried to reassure her friend, but Grace persisted in blaming herself, which Olivia thought unreasonable.
“How’d you know about Grace volunteering?” she asked.
“The way I know about everything. The paper’s doing an article about the shelter. When I showed up to talk to the director, Grace was there filling out the paperwork. The shelter does a background check before they accept any volunteers.”
“I think it’ll be good for her.”
“I do, too,” Jack said.
Olivia opened her eyes and gazed up at the sky. The clouds had parted and the stars were coming out; it was turning into a spectacular night. Most of her friends were at a fund-raising dinner she’d gladly skipped. She could only imagine what her co-workers would say if they could see the very prim and proper Judge Lockhart soaking in a hot tub. And with a man, yet.
“I wouldn’t do this for anyone else, you know,” she told him. She didn’t need to elaborate on what she meant; Jack knew.
“I’m glad to hear it.” He kissed the top of her head.
Olivia felt his chest expand and then softly he said, “I love you, Olivia.”
This wasn’t the first time he’d admitted his feelings, but something about the way he’d said it felt different. She leaned away from him and looked into his eyes. “I love you, too, Jack.”
“Do you mean that, Olivia? Really mean it?”
She nodded. “I do.”
A sigh rumbled inside his chest. “I know you don’t like to talk about Stan, and frankly, I don’t blame you, but I think we should. For the last time.”
“All right.” This sounded ominous.
Jack didn’t speak for a moment, and she gave him a nudge with her elbow. “Your ex-husband made it plain from the day we met that he wanted you back.”
Olivia kissed Jack’s chin. “I know, but he can’t have me.”
“He’s got a whole lot more to offer you than I do.”
“Such as?”
Jack chuckled. “You don’t really want me to get into that, do you?”
“Yes,” she challenged. “What you don’t seem to understand is that my ex-husband doesn’t hold a candle to you in a hundred different ways. Okay, he probably brings home a bigger paycheck.”
Jack snorted. “Probably? No one gets rich in the newspaper business, at least not these days.”
“Are you suggesting money’s important to me?”
“No.”
“Then why worry about it?”
Again she felt Jack expel a deep sigh. “Because I’m attempting to be noble here and you’re making it damn hard.”
“Noble?” Olivia wasn’t sure she liked the sound of this.
“All right, if you must know, I’m asking you to put me out of my misery and marry me.”
For a wild moment Olivia was too stunned to react. “Jack, are you proposing?”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing. I want us to be together, Olivia. I love you. The way things stand now, all we get are the leftovers of each other’s lives—and I want more. I want you to be in my life and I want to be in yours.”
She stared at him, eyes wide.
“I want to be there when you wake up in the morning and at your side when you get into bed at night, and all the in-between times, too.”
This was romantic, and romance was the last thing she expected from Jack Griffin.
“I don’t know how to say it any plainer than that,” he concluded.
“Then what was all this business about Stan?” If he told her he’d willingly step aside for her ex-husband, she was going to shove his head underwater, dammit!
“Yes, well, I was going to tell you—” He hesitated. “No, I won’t.”
“Won’t what?”
“Won’t let Stan have you. I thought I could do it, but as far as I’m concerned, the hell with him.”
Olivia leaned back and rewarded him with a long, breath-stealing kiss followed by a series of short kisses down the side of his neck. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Go on,” she urged.
Jack’s arms tightened around her. “I’m never letting you go again, Olivia. I’m only half alive without you.”
She felt a burst of happiness, and her body seemed so light, so buoyant, she thought she could soar straight up to the stars.
Jack took her by the shoulders and turned her sideways so he could look her full in the face. “Will you marry me, Olivia?”
She blinked back tears and nodded. “Oh, yes, Jack.” Then she was in his arms again and he was kissing her with an abandon that sent the blood surging through her veins. This was the beginning for them, a beginning that would last the rest of their lives.
A small piece of information had been niggling at the back of Roy McAfee’s mind ever since he’d met Hannah Russell. It took him ten days to figure out what it was. Patience almost always paid off; the facts hidden in his memory usually emerged if he gave them time. But now he’d glimpsed the elusive detail and he needed to talk to someone.
Consequently, he showed up at the sheriff’s office first thing Monday morning. Davis was sitting at his desk and seemed unsurprised when Roy walked into his office.
“You’re up and about pretty early,” Davis said, looking up from the paperwork spread across his desk. “Anything I can do for you?”
“That depends.”
Davis gestured toward the empty seat.
“I’ve been giving some thought to our meeting with Russell’s daughter,” Roy said as he sat down.
The sheriff steepled his fingers. “And?”
“You wouldn’t still have a list of Russell’s personal effects, would yo
u?”
“I do. Mind my asking what you want it for?”
“I’d like to look at it again,” Roy told him.
“Any particular reason?” Davis flipped open a file folder that lay on the edge of his credenza, then left the office for a moment. Roy could hear the hum of the copy machine.
Davis returned, handed him the sheet and sat down again. He reviewed the list along with Roy. “There were his clothes,” Roy read aloud. “Nothing unusual there. A good suit, a long dark raincoat and a wide-brimmed hat.”
Davis nodded as he glanced over the items. “His daughter said he’d taken to wearing the hat after the accident.”
Roy lifted his head. Thus far, everything seemed as it should. “Anything else catch your attention?”
“His briefcase, of course.”
Roy would’ve liked the opportunity to search that himself before it’d been released to Hannah.
As if reading his thoughts, Davis said, “Nothing there. I checked it myself. No secret compartments or anything to indicate it had been tampered with in any way.”
Of course not. That would’ve been too easy, Roy thought. “What about the contents?”
Davis smiled, but it wasn’t a smile that conveyed amusement. “He had a crossword puzzle book, a mystery novel and a map of the area, plus a couple of candy bars. For someone who’d traveled this far, he packed pretty light.”
“How about his suitcase?”
Davis frowned. “Two changes of clothes, as you can see on this list. We turned that bag inside out looking for something that would give us a clue about who he was. I’m telling you right now, there wasn’t a damn thing out of the ordinary.”
Roy believed him.
Davis hesitated. “It seems to me you’ve studied that list a couple of times in the last few months. Why all the interest now?”
“I’ve got a feeling.”
“Tell me about your feeling and I’ll tell you about mine.”
Roy nodded; that was fair. “Do you remember, when Russell’s daughter was at the Beldons’, she mentioned the automobile accident that killed her mother?”
“I remember.”
“She said her father claimed something had gone wrong with the steering.”
“According to the report, the accident investigator found nothing,” Davis reminded him.
“Right,” Roy agreed, but they both knew there were ways to disguise the true cause of an accident. In addition, there’d been a fire, the same fire that had badly burned Russell’s face and hands. The blaze could easily have destroyed any evidence of foul play.
“Well?” Davis asked.
“We still don’t know what killed Russell.”
“We know his heart stopped beating. What we don’t know is why. But then, as the medical examiner said, the guy was in his late fifties, had been to war and back, and survived one hell of a car accident. Maybe it was just his time. He went peacefully, the doc said.”
Roy nodded, but he wasn’t buying any of it. “As I recall, there was something else in Russell’s personal effects.”
“What was that?” Davis asked, looking back at the list. Another smile slipped into place as he slowly straightened and leaned toward his desk. “A half-full bottle of flavored water,” he said, answering his own question.
“Did Russell’s daughter happen to take that with her?”
Davis shook his head. “She read it on the list, said it wasn’t unusual for her father to drink bottled water.” He shrugged. “I didn’t offer to give it to her—don’t have it anymore.”
Roy could feel his heart start to pound. “Don’t tell me you tossed it.”
“Nope.” Davis was grinning now. “I sent it off to the toxicology lab.”
Their eyes met and they nodded at each other in unspoken agreement. “My guess is, this death wasn’t as natural as some would like to believe,” Davis said.
“Why was he killed?”
“Why travel with fake identification? Why come to Cedar Cove in the first place?”
“He came to see Beldon,” Roy said. He was confident of that much.
“Maybe he didn’t. Or maybe that wasn’t the only reason he showed up in Cedar Cove.”
“What other reason could there be?”
Sheriff Davis leaned back in his chair with a self-satisfied look. “Maybe he came to find out what happened to Dan Sherman.”
Twenty-Six
“I don’t need a baby-sitter,” Eddie insisted, defiantly crossing his arms. He glared at Allison, his eyes narrowed, as he silently challenged her to say otherwise.
“Do, too,” Allison retorted. Zach’s daughter had never been able to walk away from a dare, especially one issued by her little brother.
“I think we should leave now,” Zach whispered to Rosie under his breath, “before the kids give us an excuse to stay.”
“Tell her,” Eddie demanded, pleading with his father.
Zach sympathized with the boy, but there were limitations to what he could say and do. “Baby-sitters get paid, and your sister isn’t getting anything to stay home with you.”
“You mean I’m doing this for nothing?” Allison cried, but the outrage was all for show and Zach knew it.
Eddie was only partially mollified, but he didn’t protest again when Zach led Rosie out the front door. “The kids’ll be fine.”
Rosie agreed. “I’ve been dying to see this movie.”
“Me, too,” Zach said as he hurried ahead to open the car door for her.
To his astonishment, she stared at the door and didn’t move.
“What?” he asked, slightly annoyed. Granted, it was an old-fashioned courtesy, but Rosie had never objected to it before.
“It’s…it’s just that it’s been a long time since you opened the car door for me.”
Zach felt a little shocked. He knew she was talking about the last year of their marriage, and he supposed she was right. They’d treated each other without considerateness or respect, and the disappearance of small courtesies was a symptom of that.
“It’s a nice touch, Zach, it always was. Thank you.” She slipped into the car and reached for her seat belt.
Zach hurried around the front of the vehicle. This was their third “date.” Their first had been dinner the night Rosie had wept and the children had called him. He still didn’t understand what that had been all about, but she seemed to feel better after they’d talked. Even now, almost two weeks later, he didn’t remember exactly what they’d discussed that evening; what he remembered was how comfortable it felt to spend time with Rosie again.
In the mess they’d made of their lives, Zach had forgotten one important fact. Rosie had been more than his wife—she’d been his friend. He’d missed the little confidences they’d once shared, the small private jokes, the conversations in bed late at night. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about those things until recently, and he realized how much he missed her. How much he missed the way they used to be…
This week the kids were on spring break and Rosie had five free days. They’d already met for lunch on Monday afternoon. On the spur of the moment, they’d decided to take in a show on “Tightwad Tuesday,” when all movies were three dollars. Popcorn and soda, however, stayed the same price. Rosie was the one who enjoyed popcorn, especially the buttered variety.
The movie, a romantic comedy, had been given rave reviews. While Zach paid for their tickets, Rosie stood in line for popcorn. This was a rare night out for Zach during tax season; most evenings he was in the office until seven or eight.
They chose seats in the back of the theater and toward the middle. He noticed several people glancing in their direction and a few heads moving together in hushed whispers.
“People are talking about us,” Rosie said.
“Well, we are divorced,” Zach reminded her with a grin. “Divorced people generally don’t go out on dates.”
“True,” she said. “Sad commentary, isn’t it? We get along better now that we’re
divorced than while we were married.”
“Yeah.” Zach couldn’t deny it. “At least during the last few years of our marriage.”
“Why did that happen, do you think?”
Zach was saved from having to answer because the lights dimmed and music blared from the sound system. Soon the previews began, about fifteen minutes’ worth, with lots of noise and frantic action.
The movie itself was delightful. More than once, Zach laughed out loud. Although he claimed he wasn’t interested in popcorn, he ate more than half of Rosie’s small bag, which she willingly shared. About halfway through the show, Zach realized they were holding hands, just like they had while they’d dated during college.
When the lights came back on, they remained seated for a few minutes, enjoying the lingering effects of the movie and the music. People started to leave the theater; several nodded at Zach and Rosie. She was right—they’d caused something of a stir. Well, good. Let people talk all they wanted. He didn’t object.
“It’s been ages since I laughed that hard,” Rosie said, standing.
“Me, too!”
“And even longer since we laughed together.”
Zach could only agree.
Because he was so busy at the office and because it was spring break and the kids were home, they’d decided it would be best if Rosie stayed at the house the entire week. Zach drove her back there.
As he headed toward Pelican Court, they chatted about the movie, laughing again at the antics of the characters and the cleverness of the plot. All too soon, he’d reached the house. Zach wasn’t ready for the evening to end, but he didn’t know if Rosie felt the same.
When he pulled into the driveway, they sat silently in the car, as if each was waiting for the other to speak first.
“It’s still early,” Rosie said. She glanced tentatively in his direction.
It was after ten, and Zach had been in the office since before six. Yet he didn’t feel tired at all.
“Would you like to come in?” she asked in a neutral voice, implying that it didn’t matter to her one way or the other.
Zach checked his watch, although he already knew the precise time from the digital clock on the car’s dashboard. “Sure,” he said. “Why not?”
311 Pelican Court Page 29