I’m coming up in the world,” she said with a laugh. “I’ll let you decide.”
What Olivia didn’t know, because he didn’t quite have the guts to tell her, was that dinner at local restaurants, including the more upscale places, was in exchange for advertising. The newspaper often traded advertising space for a restaurant credit; being able to take advantage of that was one of the perks that came with his job. The Taco Shack, for instance, owed the newspaper several hundred dollars and there were only so many tacos Jack could eat all by himself.
They parted outside the dry cleaner, and Jack hurried to his old Taurus, his step lighter than it’d been in months. Years.
Forty-five minutes later, he’d showered, changed clothes, cleaned out his car and was driving to Olivia’s. She was ready, dressed in jeans and a hand-knit sweater and didn’t bother with an umbrella. This was something he’d noticed living in the Pacific Northwest. Few people carried umbrellas. Anyone who did was automatically tagged as a tourist.
By the time they arrived at the high-school auditorium, the place was packed. Because he was with the newspaper, a pair of front-row seats had been saved for him.
No sooner had they settled down than Roy and Corrie McAfee walked over. Jack knew the couple from an article he’d written earlier in the year. Roy was a retired Seattle policeman who’d started his own detective agency; his background and experience made him a much sought-after private investigator. His wife ran the office and worked as his assistant. Roy and Jack had hit it off and gotten together a couple of times after that. Roy was an ardent hiker and Jack, who’d never been much of an outdoorsman, wanted to give it a try.
Roy reacted immediately to the fact that Olivia was with Jack.
“Hey, Judge, what are you doing with the likes of Griffin?” he teased her.
“Having a great time. Hello, Roy. Corrie.”
Corrie took the empty seat beside Olivia, and Roy claimed the single one next to Jack. Before long, the two women were involved in a discussion of some sort, and Roy was talking to Jack about state politics. This wasn’t exactly how Jack had pictured the evening, but on second thought it took the pressure off him to be a brilliant conversationalist.
Just as Mayor Benson walked onto the stage, Olivia leaned toward Jack and whispered, “Is it okay if Roy and Corrie join us for dinner?”
Jack hesitated. “Is it okay with you?”
“I don’t mind if you don’t.”
Apparently she didn’t, because she leaned close to her friend and he watched Corrie nod.
As he suspected, the evening’s competition was entertaining. Jack learned that it had begun as a way to bring some laughter to a wet, gray spring. The contest had been going for a number of years. The rules were simple: Young and old did their utmost to sound like the cantankerous seagulls that populated Cedar Cove. Jack laughed, shouted, cheered and booed with the rest of the audience.
The winner, a fourteen-year-old boy, astonished everyone with his mimicry and won easily. Jack and Olivia walked close together as they filed out of the auditorium. He placed his hand protectively on her back—and wished he had the nerve to do more, to take her arm in his.
They met Roy and Corrie at The Captain’s Galley a few minutes later. A sober-faced young woman who looked somewhat familiar led them to their table and gave them menus. Almost by rote, she wished them an enjoyable meal and departed.
“Who’s that?” Jack asked.
Olivia’s eyes widened; she was signaling that she couldn’t discuss this. Not until later did it hit him. Their hostess was the woman who’d been in court the first day he’d seen Olivia. The woman she’d prevented from filing for divorce. He’d written about her—she was the Divorce Denied wife.
“How about a bottle of wine?” Roy suggested.
Everyone seemed to be in agreement. Jack studied his menu and let Roy do the ordering. When the waitress arrived with the wineglasses, he declined.
“Just one glass,” Roy protested.
“No, thanks.” He didn’t drink and he didn’t make excuses.
The restaurant had an excellent reputation, and Jack’s meal certainly lived up to it. He ordered the fried oysters and Olivia had seafood fettuccine. After a congenial dinner, Roy and Corrie headed home while Jack and Olivia stayed for a second coffee.
The young hostess wandered past their table and Olivia glanced at Jack. “You recognize her now, don’t you?”
He nodded, feeling a surge of sympathy for the woman, who seemed barely out of her teens. He’d sat in court and listened to a tragic yet all-too-common story. A story he knew well, about a marriage that couldn’t weather a true crisis. A couple separated by grief. He didn’t know what had happened since that day in court or whether they’d gone ahead with the proceedings. What he could see, just by looking at her, was that Cecilia Randall was very unhappy.
“Do you think she recognized you?” Jack asked.
Olivia shook her head. Jack didn’t think she had, either.
“It makes me wonder,” Olivia murmured.
Jack could tell she was upset. “You think you made the wrong decision?”
Olivia shrugged and stared down at her coffee. “The poor girl looks like she’s got the weight of the world on her shoulders.”
“Maybe she just had a bad night,” he said.
“Maybe,” Olivia echoed, but Jack could tell she didn’t believe that and neither did he.
When Seth Gunderson left for Alaska in the first week of April, Justine was relieved. It was better this way. She thought about him far too often, treasured every minute they’d spent together. She didn’t want to become involved with Seth. Didn’t want to care about him, and most certainly didn’t want to fall in love with him, but that was exactly what was happening—had already happened.
After their impromptu dinner date, she’d refused his next invitation. She knew trouble when she saw it, and was well aware of her own weakness. He wanted her and she, God help her, wanted him. But Justine was too smart to give in to those yearnings. She wasn’t a woman ruled by emotions.
Seth, however, wasn’t a man easily dismissed. He opened an account at First National Bank, and found an excuse to come in at least once a week. He didn’t pressure her, didn’t argue with her, didn’t do anything out of the ordinary; he was just there. And one day she simply couldn’t stand it anymore.
She followed him outside. “Why are you doing this?” she demanded, standing in the parking lot, the sun burning off a thick fog, threatening to break through at any moment. Justine felt like weeping, but she was too damned angry to let him know how much he’d disturbed her.
Seth didn’t deny his intentions, but he met her anger with a gentleness that nearly broke her heart.
“If you want me to stop, I will,” was all he said.
“Stop!” she cried, and marched back into the bank. A
