311 Pelican Court. Debbie Macomber
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to deal with this, too.”
Roy agreed, but unfortunately this was a decision Grace had to make on her own.
“It happened almost forty years ago. It was a horrible time in our country’s history. We sacrificed fifty thousand men…. No one wants to uncover another My Lai.” She shook her head. “He didn’t say how many others were involved.” Her voice was soft, and Roy had to strain to hear. “I want to know what’s happened to the other men in the patrol. How have they managed to live with what they did? Have their lives been a living hell, too?” Her voice throbbed with emotion. “Did they walk the floors at night the way my husband did? Have their souls been tormented?” Her eyes held his. “Tell me what to do, Roy. You’re the only one I can ask. You’re the only one I trust enough to point me in the right direction.”
Roy leaned toward her. He wished he could supply the answer, but he couldn’t. From the dark circles under her eyes, he knew she’d been tormented by the responsibility Dan had imposed on her.
“It’s as though he couldn’t deal with it any longer and he laid the problem at my feet.” Her words confirmed his own feeling about the situation.
“For weeks—ever since Dan was found—I couldn’t sleep. I thought it was because of…something else, and it was better for a while, but it’s begun again. The insomnia.”
So she was the one walking the floors now.
“I’ve always been an easygoing sort of person, but lately…lately I’ve been depressed.”
“Have you been to see a physician?” he asked.
“What am I supposed to tell a doctor? That my husband was a mass murderer who recently committed suicide? Oh, by the way, this murder happened thirty-six years ago and has the potential to tear our country apart all over again?”
Roy sighed. She had a point. “Like I said, Grace, I can’t advise you what to do.”
“What if I decide to destroy the letter? The only people who’ll ever know what it said are you and me.” She chal lenged him with a narrowed look.
“Then so be it.”
“That’s not what I came to hear.”
He heard the desperation in her voice, but there was nothing more he could say.
“I’m paying you to help me figure out what I should do.”
“Do you want me to track down the other men?” he asked.
Grace shrugged. “I wouldn’t know where to start. Dan never spoke about his war experiences and he never mentioned who those other men were.”
Suddenly Roy wasn’t so sure Grace did want the truth.
“I could find that out for you.” He had connections in the Department of Defense; it would be a simple matter of a phone call or two.
Grace hesitated, closing her eyes. “I’ll think about it and let you know.”
“All right.” Roy knew that Grace wanted an answer but not the one that would rip apart her own life—or those of others. He’d wait to hear from her.
The morning Katie turned six weeks old, Maryellen bathed her, the way she usually did. She watched joyfully as her daughter flung out her arms, splashing and cooing with unrestrained delight. Katie sent a spray of water toward her, hitting Maryellen in the face.
Katie smelled of baby lotion and shampoo as Maryellen dressed her in a soft pink sleeper. Six weeks ago, Maryellen’s entire life had changed. Her daughter had given her purpose and such profound joy, it was all she could do not to close her eyes and thank God for this precious gift.
The doorbell rang, and Maryellen held Katie against her shoulder as she walked through the living room to answer it. The leaves on the oak tree were turning deep autumn shades and had started to litter the front lawn.
To her surprise Jon stood there, looking self-conscious. His eyes immediately went to Katie and a slow smile crossed his face.
“I developed some new pictures,” he announced. “I realize this isn’t my day to have Katie, but I wanted you to see them.”
“Nonsense, you’re welcome anytime.” Maryellen had been overwhelmed by the number of pictures Jon had already taken of their daughter.
“To be honest, I was having withdrawal symptoms. I figured this was a good excuse to see my little girl.” He held out a large envelope. “Trade you?”
He knew how much she loved his photographs. “Deal,” she said, giving him Katie and taking the envelope. While Maryellen sat on one end of the sofa and examined these latest pictures, Jon cooed at his daughter. It was difficult to pay attention to the photographs, drawn as she was to the sight of Jon with Katie. Letting him drive away with their daughter twice a week hadn’t become any easier, but she could never doubt his love.
As she reviewed the pictures, one in particular caught her interest. It was taken the morning Maryellen had gone to his house. She’d sat in the rocking chair in Katie’s nursery, breastfeeding their daughter. Her back was to the window and light spilled in around her. The cheerfully painted wall blurred in the background and only Maryellen and Katie were clear and vivid. Somehow Jon had captured the tenderness and love Maryellen felt for her daughter. Her focus was entirely on Katie, her smile a private one, for their baby alone. It was a classic image of mother and child, reminding her of paintings by Botticelli and Rembrandt.
She recalled that he’d had his camera with him that morning. She’d clowned around for him and he’d snapped picture after picture, but she hadn’t expected anything like this.
“I see you found it,” he said, watching her as she studied the photograph.
“How do you do it?” she asked softly. “How do you know the precise moment to catch a woman’s heart?”
He frowned as if he didn’t understand the question. For that matter, Maryellen wasn’t sure she understood it, either. She loved her daughter. Loved Katie so much that just the sight of her made Maryellen’s heart stop beating for a second or two. That was the love Jon had revealed so perfectly on film.
“I thought you didn’t take photographs of people,” she said. “Other than Katie, of course.” But she couldn’t help remembering the picture in his bedroom….
“Only you.” Jon kissed Katie on the forehead. “If it bothers you, I won’t again.”
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