92 Pacific Boulevard

by Debbie Macomber

  Troy laughed out loud.

  “When the officer arrived, whoever was outside—if there was anyone outside—had long since left.”

  Troy supposed that was why he hadn’t heard about this. He didn’t want to downplay its seriousness, nor did he want to alarm her. “Next time let the officer do his job and don’t distract the intruder. We want to catch whoever’s doing this, Faith.”

  It took her a long time to respond. “Yes…It’s just that…well, it’s hard to wait around and do nothing. I don’t want this…this intruder to get the idea that I’m a willing victim.”

  “If you want to do something while you’re waiting for a police response, phone me.” Although he made the suggestion sound offhanded, he meant it. He needed to know she was safe.

  Faith shook her head. “I won’t do that.”

  “It’s an option, Faith. I’ll come, no questions asked.”

  She sighed. “I know you would.” She glanced toward the back door as if to signal that it was time to go.

  He knew he should take the hint, but Troy couldn’t make himself do it. “I got a call from Megan this afternoon,” he said.

  “Oh, yes, I expected she’d contact you.” The phone rang and she immediately reached for it, no doubt relieved by the interruption. “Hello,” she said. “Hello?”

  Troy remembered when he used to call Faith and how his heart would race each time she answered. She’d always sounded so pleased to hear from him…

  After a moment, Faith hung up. “A wrong number, I guess.”

  “Have you gotten many of those lately?” he asked, his suspicions rising.

  She exhaled slowly. “Now that you mention it, I seem to be getting more than usual.”

  Troy frowned. “What did call display tell you?”

  “It said ‘private caller.’ That’s what it said before, too.”

  “Hmm…”

  “I have an unlisted number,” she was quick to inform him.

  “That isn’t much help, Faith.”

  “Why not?”

  “Anyone who really wants your information can get it. Having it unlisted doesn’t make the number inaccessible.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “People who have a bit of computer savvy can find whatever they want.” Having said that, Troy walked over to the phone and punched in the callback code. Nothing. “You don’t have automatic callback?”

  “No,” she admitted. “I didn’t think it was necessary when I got my phone service.”

  “Order it, and the next time someone calls and hangs up, get the phone number.”

  She wrinkled her forehead. “You think it would be a good idea for me to return the call?”

  “No! Give the phone number to me and I’ll take care of it.” When he saw the worry in her eyes, Troy wondered if he’d frightened her. “Will you do that?”

  The stubborn look was back.

  “If not for your own peace of mind, then for mine.”

  “All right, if you insist,” she said with a resigned shrug.

  “I do.”

  Once again she glanced at the door.

  Troy started in that direction. “Have a good evening, Faith,” he said, touching the brim of his hat in farewell.

  “You, too.”

  She followed him to the front door and watched him walk away. Troy felt her eyes on his back and wondered if she had as many regrets as he did. He wondered if she missed him half as much as he missed her.

  By the time he got back to his house on Pacific Boulevard, it was pitch-dark. Troy let himself in and, without thinking, picked up the television remote control. He didn’t actually watch many programs. Mostly he appreciated the noise.

  The local Seattle news flashed across the screen as Troy hung up his coat. He was about to close the closet door when he saw a reporter with a microphone in a setting that was far too familiar.

  Troy stared. It was the area outside the cave where the skeletal remains had been discovered.

  “This is Jean Everson with a story that’s more suited to Halloween than January,” the young woman said, her voice low and intense. “I’m here in Cedar Cove to report that the unidentified remains of a young man have been found in this cave directly behind me. A youth. No one in Cedar Cove is talking. No one appears to know who this young man might be. The autopsy report indicates that he was sealed inside this cave for approximately thirty years. However, local law enforcement has apparently made no progress in resolving this tragic case.”

  All Troy could hope was that Louie Benson hadn’t seen this news item. The woman’s voice droned on in the distance, and she finally ended with something about “…this sleepy town, where dark secrets might be buried along with those unidentified remains. This is Channel 7 Eyewitness News. Jean Everson reporting from Cedar Cove, Washington.”

  After a day like the one he’d had, this wasn’t what Troy wanted to see on his TV.

  No more than a minute later his phone rang. He didn’t need to check caller ID to figure out who it was. Louie Benson wanted to talk to him for the second time that day.

  Chapter Nine

  All week, Mack McAfee had been looking forward to seeing Mary Jo Wyse and her infant daughter. He’d delivered the baby on Christmas Eve at the Hardings’ ranch. Appropriately enough, Mary Jo had named her Noelle.

  It had been Mack’s first delivery, the only time he’d ever witnessed, let alone participated in, a birth. Being with Mary Jo, being the very first person to hold Noelle, had been one of the most emotional experiences of his life. Later on Christmas Day, when he’d gone to visit his parents, he hadn’t been able to stop talking about it. He’d never felt anything like this before—this exhilaration, this sense of joy, of significance. Everything else he’d ever done paled in comparison. He’d been overwhelmed by the power of that moment.

  Mack was a firefighter with EMT training. He’d worked at a number of jobs and trades through the years, but being part of the Cedar Cove fire department suited him best. He felt it was where he belonged, the kind of work he was meant to do.

  He turned down the radio as he crossed the Narrows Bridge in Tacoma on the drive to Seattle. His thoughts were hectic and disorganized; he needed to settle down before seeing Mary Jo again. Noelle was two days shy of being a month old. A lot could have changed since his visit a couple of weeks earlier.

  When they’d last spoken, Mary Jo had sounded pleased to hear from him, but she had bad news. The insurance company where she’d worked had downsized and she’d been given a severance package. The future felt uncertain and he could tell she was trying hard to be optimistic. Wanting to encourage her, Mack had phoned twice since his previous visit, and their conversations, although short, had gone well. Still, he wished there was some way he could help her. Frankly he couldn’t think of anything. She wouldn’t accept financial assistance from him; she didn’t even like taking it from her brothers.

  He knew she’d rather not live with them but there really weren’t many options, especially now that she was unemployed. She tried to minimize her growing frustration, but Mack sensed how she felt.

  Having lived in the Seattle area for most of his life, he had no problem navigating the route to Mary Jo’s address. As he’d already discovered, it was a nice house in a pleasant neighborhood. He knew she’d been raised in this very home, the youngest of four children. Her brothers considered themselves her guardians and had done so ever since their parents had died in an automobile accident.

  Holding the huge teddy bear he’d bought, Mack walked up the pathway that led to the house. He stared at the front door for a long moment, his heart pounding, before he pressed the bell.

  Mary Jo answered almost right away. She carried Noelle, supporting the baby against her shoulder. The baby cried, a steady, plaintive whimpering, her tiny head wobbling.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi,” she returned, smiling up at him.

  Mary Jo looked…dreadful. No other word for it. She was dressed and her hair
was brushed, but her makeup didn’t disguise her paleness or the circles that darkened her eyes. Those tired eyes did light up when she saw him, though.

  She moved aside so Mack could step into the house, which he noted was tidy. A white bassinet was set up in the living room close to the sofa, and there was a stack of disposable diapers on the coffee table.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I planned to have Noelle bathed and ready to receive company…but she had a bad morning.” She patted Noelle’s back. “And consequently, so have I.”

  “No need to apologize,” Mack told her.

  Mary Jo made a halfhearted effort to stifle a yawn. “Noelle kept me up most of the night. I thought she’d be tired this morning, but no such luck. Whenever I put her down, she starts to cry all over again.”

  “Is she sick?”

  She shook her head. “I talked to the nurse and she said it’s a classic case of colic. It generally hits at about three weeks.” She sighed. “All Noelle does is fuss and cry. I don’t think I slept more than an hour all night.”

  “You should’ve phoned. We could have rescheduled.” He would’ve been disappointed but could easily have stopped by some other time.

  “I probably should have,” she agreed, “only I’d been looking forward to showing you how much Noelle’s changed since you saw her.”

  On his initial visit Noelle had been sleeping peacefully, wearing a tiny pink knit hat. She’d slept the entire time, so he hadn’t had the opportunity to do more than gaze at her admiringly.

  Mack set down the teddy bear and saw that Noelle had already acquired a dozen or so stuffed animals.

  “My brothers spoil her terribly,” Mary Jo said, pointing to the heap of plush lions and puppies and bears. “Especially Linc. He’s the oldest, and really should have a family of his own by now. His problem is that he takes his responsibilities—or what he sees as his responsibilities—too seriously. I think that’s what caused his breakup with…Oh, you don’t want to hear all this.” She nodded toward the sofa. “Please make yourself at home.”

  Noelle squirmed in Mary Jo’s arms.

  Mack took a seat, feeling awkward, since she was still standing. Mary Jo paced and patted the baby’s back, but Noelle sent up a wail that startled him with its intensity.

  “Do you want me to take her?” he asked.

  “It won’t do any good.”

  Mary Jo looked as if she was about to fall asleep standing up.

  “Let me try.”

  She sighed. “All right. Thank you. I’ll put on a pot of coffee. I need caffeine if I’m going to function for the rest of the day.” She placed Noelle in his arms.

  Mack hadn’t spent much time—virtually none, in fact—around babies, so this was a new experience. Noelle continued to yell and thrash her arms and legs. He stared down at her. Her small face was red and fierce with anger as she lay on his lap. Not knowing how to calm her, Mack offered his finger, which she instantly grasped. Then he rested his large hand on her tummy and began to hum a tune he remembered his mother singing to him. He didn’t recall the words, but the melody had stayed in his mind.

  Noelle blinked up at him and suddenly went still. Then her eyes opened wide. Although it was highly unlikely, it seemed to Mack that the baby recognized him.

  Mary Jo poked her head into the room. “What did you do?” she asked. “How did you convince her to quiet down?”

  “I…hummed,” he replied, a bit embarrassed. “As soon as she heard my voice, she stopped crying. I think she remembers me.” If her hold on his finger was any indication, Noelle was happy to see him. The feeling was mutual.

  Mary Jo watched the two of them. “You certainly have the touch,” she said. “And I’m grateful.”

  When he glanced down, he saw that Noelle had closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. The poor kid was probably as exhausted as her mother. “I’ve often heard I have this mesmerizing effect on women,” he joked.

  Mary Jo smiled and Mack smiled back. He felt bad about the way David Rhodes had lied to her and mistreated her. The man wasn’t just scum, he was an idiot to walk away from someone as wonderful as Mary Jo.

  A few minutes later, she brought in a tray holding two filled coffee cups, along with a small pitcher of cream and a sugar bowl. She placed it on the table in front of the sofa, then took Noelle from his lap and tucked her inside the bassinet.

  While she covered the infant with a knitted blanket, he added cream to his coffee.

  “This is the first time she’s slept since about five,” Mary Jo whispered, obviously afraid of waking the baby.

  “I can’t believe how much she’s grown in just a month.”

  Mary Jo’s gaze rested on her sleeping daughter. “I know…What I can’t believe is how demanding motherhood is.”

  “Your brothers don’t help?”

  She sat down on the other end of the sofa and reached for her coffee with a soft laugh. “You’re joking, right? All three of my brothers are scared to death of Noelle,” she said as she spooned in sugar and stirred. “I don’t think Linc’s held her more than once and he looked terrified the entire time.”

  “What about Mel and Ned?”

  Her smile grew. “If Noelle even burps, they come running for me. As for changing diapers, there’s no way.”

  Mack could understand their fear. Noelle was so small, so fragile, so helpless. It was all too easy to imagine dropping her…

  The conversation fell off, and Mack broached the subject that had been on his mind. “Have you heard from David Rhodes?”

  Mary Jo stiffened noticeably. “No, and I’m glad of it.”

  Mack was disgusted with the other man for abdicating responsibility for his child, and he couldn’t resist commenting. “He is Noelle’s father.”

  Mary Jo shook her head as if anything to do with David Rhodes distressed her. “I’d rather not discuss him,” she said tersely.

  “Of course.” He supposed it wasn’t polite to bring up such an unpleasant subject.

  “I’m embarrassed by how gullible I was,” she went on, “and how willingly I accepted his lies.”

  Mack just nodded. Mary Jo was the one who’d said she preferred not to talk about Noelle’s father, but once she’d started she couldn’t seem to stop.

  “He fed me all this garbage about loving me and wanting our baby. He claimed to be thrilled that I was pregnant, and he said that once he had his finances straightened out, we’d get married.”

  She became more agitated as she spoke. Mack wanted to assure her that it wasn’t necessary to tell him all this. But she was in mid-rant, and he couldn’t get a word in.

  “Then, of course, I didn’t hear from him for weeks on end. I even put off taking the birthing classes because when we did speak he told me how much he wanted to be with me when the baby was born. Yeah, right. And then—” she paused and took in a shuddering breath “—then he told me he’d be in Cedar Cove for Christmas with his family, which, as we both know, was another big, fat lie.”

  She scowled. “His father and stepmother were on this cruise, and when I arrived in town there was no one, and I had to depend on the kindness of strangers. You’d think by this time I’d be smart enough to question anything he said. But did I? Oh, no, I swallowed that lie like all the rest.”

  As if she could no longer sit still, she vaulted to her feet. “After Noelle was born, Ben let David know he had a daughter. You might expect him to contact me, but not so.” She started pacing, her arms tightly crossed. “Not that I wanted to hear from him, mind you. I might be a slow learner but once I figure something out, I don’t forget.” She wagged her finger at Mack. “I never want to see or talk to David Rhodes again as long as I live. I mean that.”

  “Well, I—”

  “I refuse to accept a penny from Ben Rhodes, either. He offered, you know. His son’s a real problem to him. Ben didn’t say that outright but I could tell. I thanked him—it was a lovely, gracious thing to do—but Noelle isn’t his responsibility. She�
��s David’s. I don’t expect him ever to do the right thing, though. Neither does Ben. Otherwise he wouldn’t have offered.” Another quick breath. “I did let him set up a trust fund for Noelle, but that’s all.”

  Mack waited a moment before he attempted to speak. When her tirade was apparently over, he ventured a comment. “In my opinion, Noelle’s better off without David in her life.”

  “I agree with you! Not that I have any worries there. He doesn’t want anything to do with her—or with me. Which is just as well. But one thing’s for sure.”

  “What’s that?”

  She nodded once, in a slow, stately movement. “I won’t be so easily fooled again. Men aren’t to be trusted, especially the good-looking, sweet-talking kind. Like David—you could frost a cake with his words!”

  “Your brothers—”

  “Don’t get me started on them,” she broke in. “Linc’s a stubborn know-it-all, and as for Mel and Ned, they’re oblivious. A woman who got involved with one of my brothers would need her head examined.” She paused long enough to breathe. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my brothers. They’ve been wonderful about Noelle, but they’re clueless.”

  “Well, I—”

  “Oh, I shouldn’t have said that,” Mary Jo blurted out. “It’s just that they’re at the garage all day and aren’t exposed to females in the workplace. Except for women who bring their cars in, of course. And they’re always impressed.” She rolled her eyes.

  “I was impressed with Linc, too, when I met him.” Mack felt he had to tell her this. He and Linc had talked for a good thirty minutes after the aid car had taken Mary Jo and Noelle to the hospital. At the time, Mack had been excited, and so had Linc. He was an uncle now and thrilled with the idea.

  “Of course you’d side with my brothers,” Mary Jo muttered. “You’re a man.”

  “Well, I—”

  “No, I’m finished with men. Done. Forever. You know what they say, once burned and all that. Well, I’ve got third-degree burns and there is no way in this lifetime that I will ever trust a man again.”