44 Cranberry Point. Debbie Macomber
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quietly and hoped his gratitude was evident.
“Does this have anything to do with Maxwell Russell?”
“Yes.”
“Anything new?”
“Not really, but Troy Davis stopped by for a visit last week, and he thinks I might be in…some kind of danger.”
Jack uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “What kind of danger?”
“He wasn’t entirely sure-no one is-but with two of the four-man squad dead, it’s a puzzle. Someone murdered Max. That much has been uncovered. Dan’s dead, too, and although he committed suicide, I wonder about the timing. There has to be some connection between these two deaths.”
“What about the fourth man?”
“I can’t say, but when Peggy was out of earshot Troy let me know that he’s warned Samuels to be careful. There are too many unanswered questions.”
Jack frowned. “What did he suggest you do?”
“He thought it might be a good idea if Peggy and I went on an extended vacation.”
Jack’s frown grew deeper. “Then what the hell are you doing here?”
Bob sat back in his chair and attempted to look as if he wasn’t intimidated by his situation. He was, though, and he hoped his acting skills were up to par. He figured he’d played enough roles in the community theater to make a passable showing. “I refuse to run away and hide. If anyone out there wants me dead, then all I can say is let him come and get me.”
“I don’t suppose Davis mentioned you have a stupid attitude?” Jack’s scowl darkened his face.
“He might’ve suggested something along those lines.”
Jack didn’t say anything for a moment. “What does Peggy think about all this?”
Bob didn’t want to discuss that. “She has her opinion and I have mine. I did agree not to take guests until this is settled. It hurts financially, but we’ll survive.”
“One day at a time?”
“Let go and let God,” Bob said, quoting a well-known AA saying.
“What can I do?” Jack asked.
“For now, nothing, but if something should happen to me…”
“Nothing’s going to happen.”
Bob wasn’t prepared to argue, but for his own peace of mind, he needed reassurance. He held up his hand. “I don’t know what the future holds, Jack. If what Davis thinks is true, I could turn up dead, the same as Max.”
“But-”
“There are a lot of things in this world that can’t be forgotten or forgiven.” Bob lived with plenty of regrets but none greater than his unwitting participation in a massacre during the Vietnam War.
“What do you need me to do?” Jack asked.
“I want you to look after Peggy for me.” He worried about his children, too. Both Hollie and Marc lived in the Spokane area. Peggy kept in close touch with both of them, and he talked to his son and daughter once a week.
“You know I’ll do whatever I can,” Jack promised.
If he were to die, Bob couldn’t see either of his children moving to Cedar Cove. They loved their mother but they had lives of their own.
He reached inside his pocket and pulled out two envelopes. “I’ve written each of my kids a letter. If the worst happens, I want you to give them these.”
Jack accepted the envelopes and nodded. “Consider it done.”
Bob glanced up just in time to see Peggy and Olivia walk into the living room. “Why are you two sitting here looking so glum? Dinner’s ready.”
“Dinner.” Bob bolted to his feet. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“I’m ready anytime,” Jack said.
Bob felt better than he had in days. No matter what happened, he could rest easy now.
Chapter Seven
Maryellen felt overwhelmed by everything she needed to do before the wedding. The last two weeks had passed in a whirlwind of activity and joyous craziness.
“Just look at these nails,” Rachel, her nail tech, said as she picked up a cotton ball to remove the old polish. “What have you been up to?”
“Moving,” Maryellen muttered, knowing that would explain everything. Her rental house was completely empty now and her belongings were all at Jon’s place, but almost everything remained in boxes. With the wedding preparations demanding all her extra time, she had yet to unpack.
“So when’s the big day?”
“Monday,” Maryellen said.
“Memorial Day?”
She nodded.
“That’s one way to help your husband keep track of your anniversary,” Rachel said with a laugh. Apparently she’d forgotten that the actual date changed from year to year. “In my case, however, the first thing I’ve got to do is find a husband.” The exasperation in her sigh said it all. For as long as Maryellen could remember, Rachel had wanted to get married. All the women at Get Nailed were single and, during each appointment, Maryellen could count on the main topic of conversation revolving around the lack of decent husband material in Cedar Cove.
“Did you hear the big news?” Rachel asked, rubbing furiously at the old polish.
Maryellen shook her head.
“The animal shelter’s holding a dog and bachelor auction.”
“With some men, it’s one and the same,” Terri shouted from the other side of the room. “The men I’ve dated have been real dogs.” She laughed at her own joke, then returned her attention to her client.
Even before Maryellen’s engagement, such an event would never have interested her, but she knew the girls at Get Nailed would leap at the opportunity to meet eligible men.
“I’m surprised you haven’t heard about the auction. Everyone in town’s talking about it.”
“Just as long as everyone knows Jon is out of circulation,” Maryellen teased.
“Honey, from the moment Jon Bowman looked at you, he was a goner.”
Maryellen grinned. At one point-during her avoidance phase-she’d attempted to match Jon up with one of the nail techs. Her plan had backfired and as a result, Maryellen had come to realize how strong the attraction between them was. Then, a few months ago, she’d managed to convince herself that Jon was involved with someone else. The thought of him with another woman had nearly destroyed her. Only later did she learn that he was completely committed to her and Katie.
“Are you excited about the wedding?”
Right now, Maryellen was too tired to be excited. With their jobs, they’d both been working twenty-hour days in an effort to have the house and yard ready for the ceremony. Jon had spent countless hours doing yardwork and planning the reception. Thankfully the guest list was small, under thirty.
Friday was his last day at The Lighthouse restaurant, where he worked nights as a chef. He was ready to make the transition and dedicate all his time to photography. Maryellen would continue working at the art gallery until the end of the year-or until she became pregnant again. After that, she’d serve as Jon’s agent, marketing his pictures and negotiating with galleries around the country.
The thought of a second baby made her feel weak with longing. They’d managed to avoid physical lovemaking, but it had been a strain on both of them. Still, she felt