44 Cranberry Point (14 page)

B
ob caught sight of the other car as he rounded the corner. He’d spent the last three hours with the theater group, rehearsing his role as the attorney Billy Flynn in the musical
Chicago.
It was now after ten and this late at night, Harbor Street was nearly deserted. He noticed that the blue SUV took each turn he made, the bumper dangerously close to his own. Bob felt his heart leap into his throat just as the vehicle eased back.

He was being followed.

Bob took a left at Heron and the SUV turned left, as well. Knowing he tended to jump to conclusions, he wanted to be sure and made an immediate right. Again the vehicle behind him turned in the same direction. At least it maintained a safe distance.

Now he was convinced; he was indeed being followed. His heart racing, Bob reached for his cell phone. This wasn’t an emergency and the car stayed well behind him but it was obvious the driver was tailing him. His first thought was to call Peggy, but he didn’t want to needlessly alarm his wife.

Nor could he phone the sheriff’s office. No crime had been committed-yet.

He’d ignored the warnings he’d gotten from Sheriff Davis and Roy. After all this time, Bob had refused to believe he was in any real danger. He’d thought everyone was overreacting, and the only reason he’d agreed not to accept guests was to appease Peggy. All at once, he wasn’t so sure about anything.

“Roy,” he mumbled aloud with relief. He’d call his friend. Roy would know what to do. But try as he might, Bob couldn’t remember his home number. He might be able to dig it up from the recesses of his memory, but the only number he could recall was for the office. At this time of night, Roy would almost certainly be at home.

“Great,” he muttered under his breath. “Just great. Think. You can figure this out.”

Then Bob remembered reading one of those “what to do in case of an emergency” articles in some long-ago publication. If you’re being followed, he recalled, the advice was to drive to a police station.

With that in mind, Bob drove directly to the Cedar Cove Sheriff’s Office, where he pulled into the half-circle driveway. He stayed in his vehicle as the blue SUV drove past. It slowed briefly and then sped away.

Tension caused him to tighten his hold on the steering wheel. He sat in the driver’s seat and forced his pulse to return to normal by taking deep, even breaths. When he was certain his legs would support him, he opened the car door and climbed out.

“You can’t leave your car there,” a uniformed officer informed him as he walked into the station.

He began to explain, then changed his mind. He might be making more of this than necessary. “I’ll move it in just a moment. I need a phone book.”

“You’ll move it now.”

Bob wanted to argue, to explain, but decided against both. It was easy enough to pull his vehicle around. He parked in the street, then walked back to the station and located a public telephone near the rest rooms.

He looked up Roy McAfee’s home number and used his cell phone to place the call.

“McAfee,” Roy snapped, sounding like the police detective he’d once been.

“Someone was following me,” Bob said without introduction.

“When?” Roy’s voice was hard as steel.

“Just now.”

“Where are you?”

Bob leaned his shoulder against the wall. “At the sheriff’s office.”

“Good. Did you get the license plate number?”

Bob closed his eyes and shook his head. “No. I was so rattled I didn’t even think to look.”

“What make was the car?”

That he remembered. “A blue SUV. Ford, I think. Or maybe a Chevy.”

“Doesn’t narrow it down much. Are you sure you didn’t get any of the plate number?”

Bob wanted to kick himself. “No, sorry.”

“You okay?”

“Of course I’m all right.” He hoped his voice didn’t betray how badly this had unsettled him. “What should I do now?”

“Drive over to my house. I’ll meet you and follow you home. We can talk there.”

“Okay.” He climbed back in the car and started the engine. His hand trembled as he turned the ignition key.

He checked the rearview mirror every few seconds during the drive to Roy and Corrie’s. He thought he saw the
SUV once, but if so it kept a respectable distance that didn’t allow him an opportunity to read the license plate. But by then he was so jumpy he would’ve suspected any car that came within two blocks of him.

When he arrived at the McAfees’ home, Roy was already in the car. He pulled in directly behind Bob and followed him down Heron to Cranberry Point.

Peggy was standing at the back door waiting for him as if she knew something was wrong. He was only a few minutes later than he’d told her he’d be.

“What is it?” she asked as he walked from the garage to the house, Roy directly behind him.

Sometimes Bob swore his wife had a sixth sense. “I was followed.”

Her eyes widened with alarm. “Just now?”

He nodded. “I called Roy from the sheriff’s office. To be on the safe side he decided to follow me home.”

“What’s happening?” Hannah stepped into the kitchen, her expression curious-and more than a little wary.

“I think we should all sit down,” Peggy suggested. Roy came into the house with Bob, and the four of them sat in the family room. Hannah, who was dressed for bed, resembled a lost waif with her long hair falling about her face and huge, frightened eyes.

“Tell us the whole story, from the beginning,” Roy said.

There wasn’t all that much to tell. Bob explained how the car had come right up on his bumper when he first drove down Harbor Street and then pulled back. How the driver had maintained a reasonable distance as Bob took a number of twists and turns to establish whether or not he was being followed.

“Whoever it was didn’t want to be identified,” Roy said.

“Did you recognize the person in the car?” Peggy asked.

Bob shook his head. “No-I didn’t really look. I mean, when the car first came up behind me the only thought that went through my mind was how close on my tail it was.”

“Did you notice if the driver was a male or female?” Roy asked. “One person or two?”

Bob felt like an utter failure. He should be able to answer at least that question, but in all honesty he couldn’t. “One, I think. Male…but I’m not sure.” Disgusted with himself, he shook his head. “I don’t know. I couldn’t tell.”

Peggy reached for his hand and her fingers curled around his. He was sure she didn’t realize how tightly she squeezed.

“Anything else you can remember?” Roy prodded.

“Nothing. But if it happens again, I’ll know what to look for.”

“Again?” Peggy gasped.

Bob could tell she was badly shaken, but he couldn’t come up with a single reassurance. Not even one.

“Who do you think it might be?” Bob asked his friend.

“Whoever it is wanted you to know you were being followed.” Roy said, “otherwise he wouldn’t have made it this obvious.”

“Why?”

“Why else?” Peggy cried. “He’s trying to frighten us.”

Bob had news for her; the attempt had worked.

“But…who would do such a thing?” Hannah asked. “What sort of person?”

“It might have nothing to do with the murder,” Roy told them.

“What else could it mean?”

Roy shrugged. “That I don’t know.”

If Roy thought he was providing comfort, his tactic hadn’t worked. Not in Bob’s opinion, anyway. He was nervous and unable to hide it.

“I’m going to bed,” Hannah said into the silence. “Unless you need me for anything?”

“No, no, go to bed,” Peggy insisted. “Do you want me to wake you up?”

Hannah nodded. “Please. I didn’t mean to sleep in this morning.”

“I know. But you don’t want it to happen again.”

“No, I don’t,” Hannah agreed. “I need this job.”

Their houseguest had been two hours late for work, and the Pancake Palace had phoned looking for her. Peggy had managed to get the girl up and moving, but it had been no easy task. By the time Hannah got into town, the restaurant was practically out of clean dishes. To her credit, Hannah had stayed two hours past her shift in an effort to make up for her tardiness.

“If you’re all right, I should probably leave,” Roy said, getting to his feet.

“We’re fine,” Bob lied. “You go on home. Thanks for everything.” He deeply appreciated Roy’s friendship and concern, which went far beyond their professional relationship.

Bob walked him to the kitchen door, then watched as Roy drove off.

“Are you tired?” he asked Peggy. She stood in the middle of the kitchen, completely still, as if she was afraid to move a single step in any direction.

“You can’t be serious about going upstairs and sleeping,” she said. When he didn’t answer, she added, “You honestly think you’ll sleep?”

“No, but that’s not the point.”

Peggy smiled. “I don’t think I can, either. Want to watch some TV?”

They both knew they were in for a long, restless night.

G
race Sherman had been looking forward to the Dog and Bachelor Auction with equal measures of anticipation and dread. The fund-raising event had initially been her idea and Mary’s, and Grace wanted it to be successful. At the same time, she was aware that she’d be sitting by while the man she loved was on the auction block. She couldn’t join in the bidding herself, both because she couldn’t afford it and because she knew how he felt about her now. Other women would bid on Cliff and he’d walk away with someone else on his arm.

On the evening of July tenth, the parking lot of The Lighthouse restaurant was fast filling to capacity. Women lined up outside the door, and it wasn’t for dinner and drinks, Grace suspected, although the food, as always, would be exceptional. No, all those women were eager to get the best seats in the house for a close-up view of the dogs and-especially-the bachelors. Even before the auction had begun, everyone could tell it was going to be an unqualified success.

“This is just fabulous,” Mary Sanchez said. She stood with
Margaret White at the entrance of the restaurant. As soon as the doors opened, they’d collect the tickets that had already been sold. The women waiting to place their bids jostled outside, peeking through the windows, chatting and laughing. The mood was jovial and high-spirited.

“The natives are getting restless,” Margaret shouted to Janet Webb over the noise and laughter from outside. Janet was getting everything organized for the cashiers, who were situated at the rear of the restaurant near the bar area.

“Is there anything I can do?” Grace asked. She’d come to offer an extra pair of hands before the auction started. Her official duties, however, had been completed weeks earlier.

“Yes, Grace, there is,” Janet said, her tone serious. “I want you to enjoy this event. You’ve worked hard and the shelter deeply appreciates all your effort.”

“It was my pleasure.” Grace figured that enjoying this evening wasn’t remotely possible, but she was determined to try. All she could hope was that the woman who won Cliff would appreciate what a wonderful man he was.

Janet, the director of the animal shelter, walked over to the restaurant foyer, and gave the signal for the doors to open. As the crowd began to enter, Grace observed with surprise the number of young single women in Cedar Cove. She’d thought most of the people here would be familiar to her but quite a few of the women weren’t. Like a crashing tide against the shoreline, people-young women, older ones and even men who were clearly there as spectators-flooded into the restaurant, tipping over chairs and scooting around tables as they jockeyed for seats.

Thankfully Grace had been able to reserve a table for friends. Olivia and Jack showed up a few minutes after the doors opened, and Charlotte and Ben followed. Grace had encouraged her daughters to attend for the entertainment
value of the event, but both Maryellen and Kelly had decided to spend the night at home with their husbands and families. Grace didn’t blame them.

“Can you believe this crowd,” Grace commented to Olivia, looking around. It was difficult to hear over the highdecibel chatter all around them. The atmosphere of fun and excitement was as strong as the pervasive scent of perfume.

Grace could only imagine what it was like in the waiting area where the bachelors and dogs were congregated. Silently she read over the list of the bachelors, fifteen in all. Pairing them up with dogs had been a complicated task, taken on by Janet Webb. Grace wondered what breed-or mixed breed-she’d choose to accompany Cliff. A shepherd of some kind was her guess. Large, gentle and handsome…

The temporary stage, with an extended walking platform, reached halfway into the restaurant, with tables and chairs arranged on both sides. The idea was that the bachelor would walk out with the dog on a leash.

Whoever won could take the dog or the bachelor or both. If the winner only wanted one, then the auction would start over with the remaining entrant, whether man or dog. As Grace read over the rules described in the program, she hoped this novel idea would raise the funds the shelter needed, and more.

“If I’d been one of the bachelors, I bet I would’ve brought in top dollar,” Jack boasted with a cocky grin. “Unfortunately Olivia got me first.”

Olivia glanced up from her program and arched one brow. “Unfortunately? Is that a complaint, Mr. Griffin?”

The teasing left his eyes and was replaced with a slow, easy smile. “Not at all. I meant unfortunately for these other ladies.” At her smirk, he shook his head. “In all seriousness, though, I think I got the better half of this deal.”

“I’m not so sure I agree.” Olivia rested her head against him, and Jack’s arm came around her shoulders. The gesture was so romantic that Grace had to look away. Rarely had she felt lonelier or more alone, but she was finished with self-recrimination. Life goes on, as the old saying had it, and so would she.

“I see Stanley’s one of the bachelors,” Charlotte said disapprovingly. She pointed out her ex-son-in-law’s name to Ben Rhodes. “Stanley doesn’t even live in Cedar Cove.”

“I know,” Grace murmured, “but Stan wanted to do his part for charity.”

“Did you tell him charity begins at home?”

“Mother!” Olivia mildly chastised her.

Charlotte frowned. “I only hope his ego doesn’t get the better of him-for once.”

In Grace’s opinion, it was too late for that. Stan had volunteered under the assumption that any number of women would battle to outbid each other for the opportunity to date him.

“I can’t wait to see which dog Janet paired him up with,” she said, leaning close to Olivia as the waiters started to circulate with salads.

“You mean you don’t know?”

She shook her head. “Janet’s not deciding until she’s had a chance to mingle with the bachelors and meet them.”

“This could be intriguing.”

Soon everyone was seated and the main course had been quickly and efficiently served, with Justine directing the waiters from the kitchen. Janet stepped up to the podium set off to one side of the platform and reviewed the rules. Next she introduced the auctioneer and Barry Stokes stepped forward.

Barry greeted everyone with a smile and a few good-natured jokes about bachelors. He managed to work the audience
to an even higher level of excitement, periodically reminding everyone of the important role the animal shelter played in the community. He pointed out that the final bidding price would be separate for the dog and the man. If the bidder wanted the dog and the bachelor, the bid was actually doubled. So if the bidder wanted either the dog
or
the bachelor, the bidding would begin again. Dogs made wonderful pets, he said at the end of his introduction. And so did bachelors-which brought a roar from the crowd.

The first bachelor presented was Bruce Peyton. Grace knew Bruce through the library; the widower often came in with his young daughter. Grace recalled his wife, Stephanie, too, and was well aware that the young father continued to grieve.

Bruce was matched up with a bassett hound. Grace could tell how nervous he was by the way his gaze darted around the room. The order of the bachelors’ appearances had been chosen by lottery, and she felt sorry for Bruce, whose name had obviously been pulled first.

The whispers rose as Bruce walked down the runway, the bassett hound trudging beside him. It was clear that Bruce would’ve preferred to hurry, but that was impossible with the slow-moving dog.

The first bid came from one of the women who worked at Get Nailed. She was immediately outbid by a woman from the local pharmacy. The bidding went back and forth between them until the last moment. Bruce-and the dog-were about to be won for the bargain price of two hundred and thirty-five dollars each when Lois Habbersmith, who worked with Maryellen at the gallery, shocked everyone.

“Three hundred and fifty dollars!”

The two women who’d been bidding stared at each other, shook their heads and sat down.

“Three hundred and fifty dollars, going once, going twice.” Barry paused and pointed his gavel at the woman from the salon. “Are you sure you want to quit so soon? The bassett hound alone is a bargain at that price.”

The two previous bidders shook their heads again.

“Sold,” Barry announced and slammed down the gavel. “Now, which do you want? Bruce or the bassett?”

“Both!”

“Three hundred and fifty dollars each,” Barry reminded her.

“Yes.” Lois gleefully pulled out her checkbook and maneuvered around several chairs as she made her way to the back of the room.

Barry chuckled. “You’re married, Lois. What’s Don going to think when you bring home a dog and a bachelor?”

“Don approves.”

Several laughs followed, along with good-natured teasing.

Lois dismissed Barry’s comment with a wave of her hand. “Don and I already decided we’d get a dog. And I promised him whoever I bid on would be tall enough to reach the second-story windows on the ladder. They need a good washing, and Bruce looks tall enough to do it and young enough not to complain.”

“In other words, you purchased your bachelor to relieve Don of washing the outside windows?”

“I did. Those windows haven’t been cleaned in three years. Don said to go for it and I did.”

“You want me to wash your windows?” Bruce Peyton asked, visibly disappointed. “Hey, is that legal?”

“Sure it is.” Barry laughed, nodding his head. “You volunteered for this, and she paid good money for you.”

Bruce didn’t seem too happy with this turn of events. Giving Barry a disgruntled look, he walked off the stage.

The chatter diminished as the second bachelor was announced-Cal
Washburn, the horse trainer Grace had met at Cliff’s ranch. He was matched with a spotted gray-and-black Australian Shepherd. Again Grace thought it was a good pairing. Cal was a quiet man, gifted with horses.

Judging by the hushed whispers that rippled across the room, it was evident that Cal was a bachelor of interest. From her vantage point, Grace could see that the dog was trembling and seemed even more nervous than Cal, until Cal crouched down and whispered something in the animal’s ear, which instantly quieted him. Grace watched in amazement as the pair proceeded down the runway. The bidding was fast and furious, with cutthroat competition between the girls at Get Nailed and-of all people-Corrie McAfee. In the end, Corrie won.

“Do you want the dog or the bachelor?” Barry asked.

Corrie stood while Roy remained seated with the Beldons. “I want both.”

“Isn’t that your husband you’re sitting with?” Barry pretended to sound shocked. “What’s happening to our society when married women walk off with all the eligible bachelors because they need their windows washed?”

Corrie grinned. “You’ve got it all wrong. The dog’s for my son, Mack, and the bachelor’s for my daughter.”

A loud cheer of approval followed as Corrie walked over to the cashier with her checkbook in hand.

The third bachelor was Stan Lockhart, who was paired with a high-strung white poodle. Stan seemed in his element on the runway, unlike the two previous bachelors. He’d apparently been practicing and he played to the crowd, doing a fairly good impression of a model, complete with one hand in his pocket. He was obviously expecting the high bids garnered by the other bachelors. When the winner, a younger blond woman, opted for the dog and not him, his
disappointment was noticeable. The bidding started over, and Stan commanded less money than the poodle.

Grace elbowed Olivia, who didn’t seem to know exactly how to react; her expression was a mixture of shock, embarrassment and laughter. To everyone’s surprise, Charlotte’s good friend Bess Ferryman won Stan. The older woman stood up to proudly claim her prize.

“Don’t tell me you’re married, too?” the auctioneer demanded.

“Nope, and I’m not buying him to wash any windows, either. I’ve got a hot date in mind.”

“Good for you,” Barry said approvingly.

“Dinner, and he’s buying, followed by ballroom dancing.” Bess marched purposefully toward the cashier. For just a moment, it looked as if Stan might balk, but then he dutifully left the stage.

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,” Jack whispered to the others. “I’ll bet he doesn’t offer his services again anytime soon.”

Grace was chatting with Olivia and Charlotte when the next bachelor’s name was announced.

Cliff Harding.

This was the moment Grace had been dreading all night. In an effort to prove that she was unaffected, she fixed a smile on her face and stared straight ahead, hoping no one could guess at the turmoil inside her.

Cliff was paired with a lovely female golden retriever. When he stepped onto the stage, he was greeted by loud cheers. Grace had long suspected he’d be one of the key figures at this event, and she was right.

Almost immediately, Margaret White leapt into the bidding. Seconds later, the woman who worked for John L. Scott Realty topped Margaret’s two-hundred-dollar bid by another fifty.

“What about you?” Olivia asked, nudging Grace.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Olivia asked, her voice rising with agitation.

It was too complicated to explain. Now wasn’t the time to try, so she simply shook her head.

“Grace, you can’t just sit there and let some other woman walk away with Cliff. You have to bid.”

She felt the same way, but she couldn’t do it. While Margaret and the other woman continued to raise each other in fifty-dollar increments, Grace bit her tongue. Her heart pounded like crazy and her mouth went dry as she dealt with two years’ worth of confused emotions. Finally she couldn’t stand it any longer. Dammit, she was going to bid!

“Five hundred dollars, going one, going twice-”

“Seven hundred dollars,” Grace shouted suddenly, leaping to her feet. She just hoped the animal shelter would agree to accept payments because she didn’t have that kind of money in her checking account. Seven hundred dollars would put her over the maximum on her credit card, too. She couldn’t go a penny higher.

There was a moment of stunned silence. “Seven hundred dollars. Do we have seven hundred and fifty dollars?”