Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 2 (25 page)

“Rachel!” she cried as if they hadn't seen each other in years.

Rachel hugged her, twirling her around, although Jolene was almost too big for that now. Hard to believe she'd be in junior high next September.

“So,” Bruce said, hands in his pockets. “How'd it go?”

“Really well.”

He didn't seem happy to hear it. If anything, he looked irritated and out of sorts. Rachel wanted to confront him, ask what was wrong, but Jolene acted like a playful puppy, demanding attention as they walked toward the parking garage, making serious conversation impossible.

“So how was Lover Boy?” Bruce asked as he set her bag in the car trunk.

Rachel glared at him. “I wish you wouldn't call him that.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Sailor Man, then.”

“He has a name, you know,” she said sharply.

“All right, how's
Nate?
” Bruce opened the passenger door for her.

“Very well, thank you.”

“Can we go out to eat?” Jolene asked, clambering into the backseat and searching for her seat belt. “I want to hear about the rally.”

“No,” Bruce said. “We're not going out to eat.”

A little shocked by the vehemence of his response, Rachel turned around and looked at his daughter.

“He's been in a bad mood all day,” the girl told her.

“I have not,” Bruce barked. “Didn't you say you have homework to finish?”

“I do, but it's no big deal.”

Rachel snapped her own seat belt into place. “We'll go out another time, okay?” she suggested in an effort to keep the peace.

“Okay,” Jolene said, easily mollified.

Judging by his dark, brooding expression, Bruce had no interest in spending time with Rachel. After those kisses, this was precisely what she'd been afraid of.

The drive back to Cedar Cove seemed to take twice as long as usual. Rachel managed to carry on a somewhat disjointed conversation with Jolene, mostly about sixth-grade gossip, who liked whom and so forth. Bruce ignored them both. When he pulled up in front of her house, he stomped out of the car to remove her suitcase from the trunk.

“See you soon,” Rachel promised Jolene.

“Okay.”

Bruce had already dropped her suitcase on the front step and started back toward the car, head down, his gaze averted.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said.

“It was nothing,” Bruce mumbled as he stepped past her. Her key was barely in the lock when he roared away.

G
race couldn't stop worrying about Olivia and the upcoming biopsy results.

Her friend minimized her fears, but Grace wasn't fooled. Olivia was afraid. Jack, too. The biopsy had been done and the lab required two days to do an analysis. This was the second day.

Just as she was about to go for lunch, the phone on her desk rang. “Grace Harding,” she answered. “How can I help you?”

“Grace.”

It was Olivia, and she didn't need to say another word. The tone of her voice said it all.
Cancer.
“Where are you?” she asked.

“At home. I didn't go the courthouse today.” She paused. “My doctor called a few minutes ago.”

“Listen, don't move, I'm on my way.” Grace forgot about lunch. Her appetite had vanished the second she heard Olivia's voice. For two days she'd eaten practically nothing; all she could think about was her best friend and what she might be facing. “I'm leaving right now.”

Grace arranged to take the rest of the day off, then rushed out the door, almost forgetting her coat and purse. She was outside before she'd even slipped her arms into the sleeves.

Thankfully, the drive down Lighthouse Road was just long enough to allow Grace to gather her thoughts. When she arrived, Olivia was standing on the porch waiting for her. Wearing only a sweater, she seemed thin and frail, buffeted by the cold autumn wind. Her arms were wrapped around her middle and her face was set in that determined expression Grace knew so well. It was the same look she'd worn the afternoon she announced that Stan, her ex-husband, had decided to move out. The look that said life was hard but you couldn't give up—that you had to be equal to the pain and the grief.

The sight of Olivia, her lifelong friend, standing alone brought stinging tears to Grace's eyes. Everything started to blur as she pulled the car to the side of the road and parked carelessly.

The wind whipped her coat around her as she got out. Dashing the tears from her cheeks, she didn't bother to hide the fact that she was crying. She rushed up the sidewalk and to the porch steps where Olivia stood. She stopped abruptly. They hugged, and the tears in her friend's eyes brought a sob to her own throat.

“Tell me…”

“It's cancer.”

Grace tried not to cry. Crying wouldn't help Olivia. “How…how bad?” she asked.

“We don't know what stage it is yet. I have an appointment with the surgeon next week. We'll find out more then.”

Grace swallowed in an effort to control her emotions. Fear sent a chill down her spine. Her friend, her dearest friend, had cancer.

“Grace,” Olivia whispered. “I'm afraid.”

Through the years, Grace had seen Olivia face every tragedy with grit and faith. When Jordan died it was Olivia who held the family together. A few months later, when Stan moved out, she'd dealt with that, too. Never once, through all the grief, had Olivia ever admitted she was afraid.

It took a diagnosis of cancer to do that.

“Let's have tea,” Grace said and, with her arm around Olivia's waist, led her back into the house.

While Grace put the kettle on, Olivia sat at the kitchen table looking like a child, lost and lonely in her own home.

“Where's Jack?” Grace asked, wondering why he wasn't here when Olivia needed him so badly.

“He…he didn't take the news well,” Olivia murmured. “I suggested he go and talk to Bob.”

“He shouldn't have left you.” Grace bit back her anger at Jack, knowing it was really anger at the unfairness of life.

“It's okay,” Olivia said. “I told him you were coming.”

“Well, I'm here now.”

“Yes,” Olivia whispered and a tear slipped down the side of her face.

“Does anyone else know?”

“Not yet.”

Grace understood. Olivia needed to find her own balance, to consider her own future, before she told her mother or her children.

“I'll be right here,” Grace promised.

The hint of a smile came to Olivia then. “I knew I could count on you.” She stretched out her arm and they clasped hands.

Olivia had been with Grace when Dan disappeared, and later, too, when her husband's body was discovered and finally laid to rest. They were friends, would always be friends, no matter what the future held. For nearly all their lives, they'd shared their secrets, their hurts, their triumphs and joys.

“The part I have a hard time accepting,” Olivia said after sipping her hot tea, “is that there's an invader inside my body. A disease that wants to steal my life away. I keep thinking about it.” She placed one hand over her heart. “The enemy is
inside
me,” she repeated. “In the past I've had to deal with forces outside me. What I'm confronting now is in
here.
” Her hand formed a fist and she closed her eyes.

Grace bit her lip.

“I wish I could explain it better,” she said. “With everything else, I could close a door and retreat. Take a break from it, you know? I can't with cancer. There's no escaping my own body.”

Grace merely nodded, having no comfort to offer except her presence.

She spent an hour with Olivia, and they drank two pots of tea before Jack returned. Whatever his problem had been earlier, apparently it was now resolved. He seemed confident and matter-of-fact, answering Grace's questions quickly and clearly.

Olivia went to lie down, and Grace was grateful for the opportunity to speak to him privately.

“Call me anytime, night or day,” she said.

“I will,” he promised.

“If you and Olivia need
anything,
call me.”

He agreed. After a brief silence, he spoke again. “I don't mind telling you, I wasn't prepared for what this would do to me,” he admitted. “I thought I was. You might remember that my son had cancer years ago, and I assumed I knew what it'd be like to hear that verdict a second time. I wasn't even close.”

“Olivia's a strong woman.”

Jack's eyes took on a resolute look. “Olivia needs a strong husband who'll stand at her side while she's going through this. I'm here and I intend to stay.”

Grace left soon after, first hugging him goodbye. He thanked her over and over for coming to the house, for giving them her support, for being Olivia's friend.

When she got home, Grace immediately went looking for Cliff. She found him talking to Cal in the barn, but he broke off whatever he was saying as soon as he caught sight of her.

“I saw Olivia,” she rushed to tell him, fresh tears filling her eyes.

Cliff put his arm around her shoulders and they walked slowly back to the house. Once inside, she turned to him. “It's cancer,” she said starkly.

He nodded grimly. “What's the prognosis?”

“We won't know until she sees the surgeon, and that won't be until next week. We'll find out more then.” Grace paused for a moment, her voice threatening to break. “She hasn't told Charlotte or her children.”

Cliff urged her to sit down at the table and began preparing tea. Grace smiled, thanking him, and didn't say that one more cup of tea was probably the last thing she needed.

She saw the envelope with the returned rent check on the table and sighed. Another concern to deal with, another problem to solve. It felt trivial compared to what Olivia was going through, but still…

Cliff glanced at the envelope, too. “Oh, I talked to Judy this afternoon.”

Grace knew the rental agent couldn't be blamed. She herself had insisted Judy accept the Smiths as tenants despite their unsatisfactory references.

“Apparently, this isn't the first time these people have done this.”

That didn't come as any surprise to Grace.

“Judy talked to another agent from the Bremerton area,” Cliff continued. “She learned that this couple's made quite the habit of bilking their landlords.”

“Could Judy tell you how long it would take to evict them?”

Cliff frowned. “People like this know how to work the system. She said it might take six months to get them out.”

“Six months!” Grace cried. “That's ridiculous.”

“I agree.” He shrugged. “It's pretty hopeless. They'll exploit their rights as tenants and drag everything out until the bitter end.”

“That's an outrage.”

“For now there isn't anything we can do,” Cliff said, “except file eviction papers and play this out.”

She groaned, letting her head fall to the table.

He reached into a high cupboard and brought out a half-full bottle of bourbon. “There's one thing we
can
do—substitute strong drink for weak tea.”

Despite herself, Grace smiled.

T
eri could tell that something was bothering Rachel. The salon was humming with activity the way it always did on Fridays. But, busy or not, the two of them usually managed to arrange their schedules so they could have lunch together. At noon, Rachel claimed she simply wasn't hungry.

“What do you mean, you're not hungry?” Teri demanded. “Whatever's bothering you must be big.
Nothing
takes away your appetite.”

Rachel didn't even smile.

In spite of Teri's efforts to get her to talk about her trip to Pittsburgh, Rachel had barely said a word. For that matter, she hadn't mentioned Jolene or Bruce, either, which was highly unusual.

If Teri had her guess, what distressed her friend was her ongoing confusion about Nate and Bruce. Nate hadn't made any secret of his intentions. And then there was Bruce.

Teri wanted to shake that man and tell him to take action, do something before he lost Rachel for good. If he did, it would be his own stupid fault. As for Rachel… Teri didn't know what to think. She didn't doubt that Rachel loved Nate, but—in Teri's opinion—she loved Bruce more.

A few weeks ago, when Rachel phoned, rattled because Bruce had kissed her, she'd made it sound as though that was the first time it'd ever happened. News flash: Bruce had kissed her
long
before that night.

Although this last kiss—maybe there'd been more to it. Rachel had obviously been shocked. So, it appeared, was Bruce.

The only time she'd mentioned him was to tell Teri how angry he'd been when he picked her up from the airport. According to Rachel, he couldn't dump her on her doorstep quickly enough.

At four, Teri had a perm, and because she was too busy watching Rachel and worrying about her, she got behind schedule. When James showed up at five-fifteen to drive her home, she had another half-hour left.

“I'll wait,” James, the soul of patience, assured her. He glanced nervously around the salon. “Perhaps it would be best if I waited in the car. By the way, you might bring your umbrella when you come out. It's really begun to storm.”

Rachel had finished for the night. “I'll see everyone tomorrow,” she said, raising her hand in farewell as she started toward the door.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Teri called out.

Rachel shrugged. “Nothing much. Right now I have to pick up my car at the garage on Harbor Street. I had the oil changed. Then I'm going home to soak in a hot bath.”

“James can take you,” Teri offered. No reason he couldn't. All he'd be doing otherwise was sitting in the car—reading, no doubt. But it wouldn't take him long to drop Rachel off and by the time he came back, Teri figured she'd be ready.

“No, that's all right,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “The exercise will do me good.”

“But it's raining out! Why get wet when James is here twiddling his thumbs? He can easily drive you.”

“It would be my pleasure, Miss Rachel,” James told her in that polite way of his.

Rachel gave him a smile. “Thank you. Then I accept.”

Teri walked out the door into the interior of the mall with her.

“I really appreciate this,” Rachel said. “You're a good friend, Teri. The best I've got.”

She sounded so depressed, it was all Teri could do not to throw both arms around her. “Hey, if you need to talk or anything, just give me a call.”

Rachel smiled a little shakily. “Thank you, I will. Do
you
have plans for tonight?”

“Not really. Christie's coming over this evening and we're going to watch
Grease.
” It was a musical they'd loved when they were kids. They knew all the songs and planned to sing along. They'd have popcorn and then later on, some ice cream, the expensive kind. It would be a girls' night in.

At the mention of her sister, James lowered his gaze. Their romance seemed to be at a standstill; something must've happened because Christie had insisted on driving over on her own.

“The weekend's open, though,” Teri said.

“Okay. Let's get together. I'll phone you.”

“Please do,” Teri said, eager to help in any way she could. At the beginning of her relationship with Bobby, Rachel had been a wonderful confidante, discreet, sensible and encouraging. Teri wanted to do the same thing for her friend now. She looked over her shoulder and wished she had a few more minutes to talk. This was the first time all day that Rachel had opened up to her.

“I'll call you in the morning,” Rachel said as she headed out the mall door to the parking lot.

Standing by the car, James had the umbrella ready. It was raining steadily now and almost dark.

Teri returned to the salon and finished Mrs. Dawson's perm and waited for James.

And waited.

Thirty minutes passed, and he still wasn't back. When she called Rachel's cell, she immediately got voice mail. James didn't answer his phone, either. She tried Rachel's house. Same thing.

Unsure of what else to do, Teri called her sister. “Do you mind swinging by the salon for me?”

“Where's James?” Christie immediately asked.

“I don't know. He was going to run Rachel to the garage to get her car, but he hasn't come back.”

“Did you try his cell?”

“He isn't answering and neither is Rachel.”

Christie hesitated. “That's a bit odd, isn't it?”

“Yes.” More than odd. Definitely out of the ordinary—and even a little frightening. “Are you coming or not?” Teri asked. Otherwise she'd call one of the few cabs in town. Bobby was probably starting to worry.

“I'll be there in five minutes.”

“Thank you,” she said with a relieved sigh. Bobby wanted her to quit her job, and incidents like this didn't help. She had no idea where James and Rachel had gone or why they weren't answering their cell phones. There had to be a perfectly logical explanation, she told herself; she wasn't going to stress over it.

Her sister drove up in her rattletrap of a car, the exhaust belching oil. Leaning across, she unlocked the passenger door and shoved it open. Teri leaped gratefully inside, damp from her short sprint to the car.

“Have you heard from James?” Christie asked before she'd said hello.

Teri hid a smile. “Not a word.”

“I'll bet he's at your place now,” Christie speculated. “He just forgot to come back for you.”

Teri didn't believe that for a minute. James was a paragon of responsibility; he'd
never
shirk his duties. Despite her resolve not to worry, she was beginning to feel anxious.

Christie was unusually quiet on the ride home.

“Does he have the hots for her?” she blurted out as they approached the long driveway on Seaside Avenue.

“What?”

“You know.”

“James for Rachel, you mean?”

“Who else do you think I'm talking about?” Christie asked irritably.

“No way.” If James was interested in anyone, Teri suspected it was her very own sister.

As soon as they pulled in, the front door flew open and Bobby rushed out into the cold, drenching rain. He practically yanked her from the car. Then he was holding her. Hard. His fists dug into the small of Teri's back and his breathing was shallow and fast.

Something was drastically wrong. He'd been worried about her in the past, but he'd never done anything like this.

“Bobby! Bobby, what is it?”

By the time he let her go, they were both soaked to the skin, wet hair matted to their heads, rivulets of water running down their faces. He started babbling, the words frantic, incoherent.

Before he'd finished, the sheriff's vehicle rolled into the driveway, lights flashing. Troy Davis stepped out, and the four of them went into the house together.

“So everything's all right?” Troy said, looking at Teri. “
You're
all right?”

“Of course I am. Did my husband contact you?” Really, this was too much, even for Bobby. She was only an hour late.

“Kidnapped,” Bobby said.

“What are you talking about?” Christie looked from one man to the other.

“He said he had you,” Bobby said, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and relief. “He didn't
say
it, exactly, but he implied it.”

“Who?” Troy Davis asked sharply.

“Vladimir.”

“James!” Christie shouted as understanding came. “They have James and Rachel.”

Teri stared at her, then at Bobby. That was it—James and Rachel had been kidnapped. Whoever had taken them must've assumed they had Teri. If it was the two men who'd originally confronted her, they'd realize quickly enough that they had the wrong woman. The question was what they'd do once they became aware of their mistake. Terror froze her and she couldn't breathe.

The ringing of the phone cut into the room, freeing Teri from her sudden paralysis. Dragging in a deep breath, she lunged at the jangling phone. Caller ID told her it was Bruce Peyton.

She couldn't imagine why he'd called her unless he'd somehow heard…

“Bruce,” Teri said, picking up the receiver. It took all her strength to speak normally.

“I'm sorry to bother you, Teri, but do you know where Rachel is?”

“Ah… Was she supposed to see Jolene tonight?”

His hesitation was brief. “No. I need to talk to her and I can't seem to find her. She usually has her cell phone but I haven't been able to get hold of her.”

“Perhaps you should come to my house,” Teri suggested. She couldn't very well tell him over the phone that Rachel had been abducted.

Again he paused. “Is everything okay?”

“Not…really. Could you stop by at your earliest convenience?” Then, thinking quickly, she added, “It'd probably be best if Jolene wasn't with you.”

“This sounds serious,” Bruce murmured, but without quizzing her further, he said he was on his way. When she'd replaced the receiver, she turned to the sheriff, intent on hearing exactly what had happened. Bobby, not surprisingly, was an emotional mess.

Before she could ask a single question, the phone rang again. Teri would've been content to let voice mail pick up when Christie suddenly screamed, “It's James!”

She would've grabbed it if not for Sheriff Davis. “Let me take this,” he said.

Nodding shyly, Christie backed away, her mouth covered with both hands. Teri noticed that her sister was trembling. At this point, she didn't know whom to comfort first, Bobby or Christie.

“Sheriff Davis,” Troy announced. He listened for a minute, then said, “I'll send a patrol car for you. They'll be there in five minutes.” He immediately ordered a patrol vehicle to the Dairy Queen off Highway 16, then requested an APB on Bobby's car. When he'd finished, he spoke to Teri, obviously considering her the most rational of the group. “It's James Wilbur and Rachel Pendergast. I'm having them brought into the station for questioning.”

“You won't keep them long will you, Sheriff?” Christie asked.

“No, they've been through enough as it is.” He frowned. “Apparently the two men in question pushed your friends out of the limo and made off with it. We'll be on the lookout.”

He left soon afterward, telling them he'd be in touch soon, and Teri made a fresh pot of coffee. She was desperately in need of a heavy dose of caffeine laced with sugar, and she assumed the others were, too. The shock was just beginning to hit her; she couldn't seem to stop shaking.

They were sitting at the kitchen table, trying to make sense of what had taken place, when Bruce arrived. Teri answered the door.

“What's going on with Rachel?” he demanded as soon as he was inside the house. “Where is she, anyway?”

Teri released a pent-up breath. She wasn't sure how to explain that her best friend had been kidnapped, that the men who'd been after
her
had mistakenly grabbed Rachel. Apparently they'd decided to grab James, as well; they must have overtaken him and stolen the car. Had they forced him to drive?

She glanced at her watch and tried to speak calmly. “My guess is that Rachel's talking Sheriff Davis's ear off right about now.”

“Sheriff Davis? Why?”

“She was kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped!”
Bruce's eyes widened and his mouth sagged open as if he couldn't believe what she'd told him.

“Come with me,” she said, leading him into the kitchen. Christie poured a cup of coffee and then spooned in sugar, stirring it briskly before she handed him the mug.

“What's going on?” he asked again, ignoring the coffee.

Bobby began to explain, but his version was confusing, and Christie's attempted corrections didn't help, and then Teri added her voice to the melee.

“Hey!” Bruce whistled loudly. “One at a time.” He pointed at Bobby. “You first.”

Bobby simply shook his head. “I can't. All I know is that Teri's safe. I'm sorry this happened to Rachel because of me.”

“It isn't your fault,” Teri said, reaching for her husband's hand. She chafed his cold fingers.

Finally Teri described the events of the night, insofar as she knew them.

“I'm going to the sheriff's,” Bruce said. He got up immediately and tore out of the house.

“I am, too,” Christie said, following Bruce.

“We'll wait here,” Teri shouted after them. Sheriff Davis had said he'd call the house, which was a good reason to stay. Besides, Teri doubted she and Bobby could contribute much to the investigation at the moment. The sheriff would have more questions for them later.

As soon as they were alone, Bobby stood and walked into the living room.

“Bobby!” Teri said, hurrying after him.

Then she was in his arms, and he was holding her and kissing her as if he never intended to stop. “I can't do this anymore,” he whispered between kisses.