he’d certainly stepped into that one. Roy nodded slowly. “I didn’t like the fact that Linnette chose to run away, but she felt she had to make a change, which I understand. We won’t always agree with her decisions, Corrie.” He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “That’s a given. We didn’t always approve of Mack’s choices, either. Kids have to learn to fend for themselves. We can’t get in the habit of rescuing them every time.”
Roy could tell that his wife still had trouble with this, and he didn’t blame her. Corrie was a nurturer, someone who tried to fix whatever was wrong, especially in her children’s lives. He tended to feel that kids should face the consequences of their actions. Not just kids—everyone. Which wasn’t to say he didn’t miss Linnette; he did. He wanted her back home. He believed that eventually she would return, but not until she was ready. Not until she’d figured out whatever she needed to know.
Later that same afternoon, he went to the sheriff’s office and saw Troy Davis sitting at his desk, the phone held to his ear. The sheriff noticed Roy and immediately gestured him inside. There was a coffeepot across the hall; Roy helped himself to a mug while Troy finished up his conversation.
When Roy came back into the office, the sheriff was off the phone. He picked up his own mug and ambled across the hall for a refill. Roy noticed a haggard, weary look on his face.
“Problems?” he asked.
Troy didn’t answer right away. “Remember Martha Evans who died a couple months back?”
“The widow? Didn’t Pastor Flemming find the body?”
“That’s her. The family claims that several expensive pieces of her jewelry are missing.”
Roy was taken aback. “You don’t think Dave—”
“Of course not.” Troy shook his head. “But you didn’t come here to listen to my woes. What brings you to my neck of the woods?”
Roy decided not to pursue the subject of the missing jewelry. “I’m doing legwork on a case. Gotta check some old police reports. Corrie asked me to stop in and invite you to dinner Friday night.”
Troy’s gaze instantly left his. “Sorry, I’m busy Friday. I’ve got another engagement. Thank Corrie for me, though.”
“Sure. Would Saturday be better?”
Troy still didn’t look at him. “I’m busy Saturday too.”
Roy found this astonishing. “You seem to have an active social calendar all of a sudden.” Not that it was any of his business, but Troy always used to be eager for a dinner invitation, especially after he’d moved Sandy to the nursing facility. Roy couldn’t remember the sheriff ever turning him down, especially for a meal.
“I’m.” Troy seemed more than a little flustered. “I’ve reconnected with an old friend.”
“Male or female?” Judging by Troy’s discomfort, he guessed it was a woman, but he couldn’t resist asking.
“Female,” Troy muttered, lifting the coffee mug to his lips so that his answer was muffled.
Roy peered across the desk at him. “Are your ears getting red or am I imagining things?”
Troy scowled back. “You’re imagining things.”
Roy had to make an effort to suppress his smile. He, too, took a sip of coffee to hide his amusement. “This so-called friend got a name?” he asked next.
“You don’t know her.”
“That’s a long tricky name.”
Troy snickered. “Very funny.”
“Is that her surname?”
“No.” Troy sighed. “Enough of this nonsense. If you must know, her name is Faith.”
Roy nodded in an encouraging manner. “And?”
“I haven’t told Megan about her yet, so I’d appreciate if you didn’t mention any of this to my daughter.”
This was even more surprising than the news that Troy was seeing another woman so soon after Sandy’s death. When he’d asked Roy to be one of the pallbearers, the sheriff was badly shaken by the loss of his wife, despite her long illness.
“I’m seeing Faith on Friday, then having dinner with Megan and Craig on Saturday,” Troy said.
“I heard about Megan’s miscarriage,” Roy said. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” Troy settled both hands around his mug. “Sandy lost two pregnancies, and both times she fell into depression.”
“How’s Megan doing?”
“Not well, I’m afraid. She put a lot of significance in the fact that she probably conceived the baby either right before Sandy’s death or right after.”
Roy nodded thoughtfully. Without meaning to, the poor girl was probably making a painful situation even harder on herself.
“Two big losses like that, one right after the other—it’s pretty tough,” Troy continued. “Which is why I haven’t told her about Faith.”
Roy leaned back in his chair. “She isn’t going to hear about it from me, so don’t worry.”
“Thanks,” Troy murmured.
The sheriff’s phone rang and Roy stood to go. As he left, he heard the other man’s voice take on a gentle, soothing quality. “It’s okay, honey,” he was saying. “We’ll just …”
Roy moved down the hall, out of earshot. The sheriff was talking to his daughter.
Twenty-Three
Grace and Cliff’s wedding reception would be Saturday, October 13, which still gave them three weeks to finish getting everything organized. That weekend, thank goodness, worked for almost everyone; their families and close friends would all be available. Grace was particularly excited about seeing Cliff’s daughter, Lisa, and her family, who were flying in from the east coast.
Sitting at the kitchen table on Saturday morning, she went over her extensive to-do list. Decorations, catering, her outfit and hair appointment, wedding cake. A lot of details to keep track of. All the work, all the time spent organizing and making phone calls, would be worth it, though. This would be a celebration of Cliff’s and her commitment, their love.
Cliff had gone into Cedar Cove to do some errands, and the house was quiet. She glanced around; everything was orderly and comfortable. Recently Grace had begun to make a few changes. Nothing drastic, though. Cliff had lived here on his own for twelve years, and the place had a distinctively masculine feel, so she’d added a few feminine flourishes, beginning with decorative pillows on the bed. This was followed by a row of family photographs, hers and his, on the dresser. Cliff immediately approved of the pictures, but the pillows were there for two weeks before he even noticed.
“Where did those come from?” he’d asked one night as
