Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 2 (76 page)

“D
ad, you've got to
do
something,” Megan wailed.

Troy Davis had just walked into his house when the kitchen phone rang. He picked up, not surprised to hear his daughter's voice; she'd left a message at the office but he'd forgotten to call her back. Troy's day had been interesting and he was eager for an opportunity to analyze what he'd learned that afternoon. The coroner's office had finally sent him the complete report on the remains discovered in the cave, and the information had given him pause, to say the least. He needed an opportunity to digest what had been revealed and decide how to proceed. His one hope was that media interest had died down sufficiently to let this latest development pass without attention.

“Dad, are you listening to me?” Megan asked impatiently.

“What is it you want me to do something about?” Troy asked, just so she'd know he'd heard her the first time.

“You didn't return my call,” she said.

“I was in a meeting.”

“I know, that's what Cody said, but I asked him to explain that this was important.”

Troy's assistant had mentioned the phone call and that Megan had sounded upset. “I'm sorry, sweetheart, I had every intention of phoning you back, but time got away from me.” He didn't want Megan to feel he didn't consider her calls important; however, since she'd gotten pregnant, his daughter seemed to be in a perpetual state of crisis. “Tell me what's wrong,” he said, setting the mail on the kitchen counter. The microwave clock told him it was ten to seven, which explained why his stomach was growling. He hadn't even had a chance to remove his coat. A light rain had begun and tapped against the kitchen window.

“It's about Faith,” Megan began.

Troy stiffened. “What's happened now? Has there been another disturbance?” He'd been worried about the prowler and wondered if she'd taken his advice and installed an alarm. He hoped she'd asked Grace and Cliff about a motion sensor light, too. He'd recently checked with his deputies about the neighborhood; according to Deputy Weaver, things had been quiet on Rosewood Lane. If anyone was pestering Faith, she hadn't reported it, nor had she contacted Troy.

“Nothing's happened at the house that I know of—not that Faith's said, anyway.”

“Then what's the problem?”

Megan sighed and he was afraid she might break into tears, an occurrence that had become commonplace in the past few months. It'd been the same with Sandy, Troy recalled. His wife's emotions had been volatile during her pregnancy.

“Faith's
moving,
” Megan said, her voice low.

Frankly, Troy didn't blame her. In fact, he approved.

“Well?” Megan demanded.

“Well, what? Actually, I think it's a good idea.”

“You can't mean that,” Megan said with a gasp. “What's the matter with you? You can't let Faith move away! You just can't.”

Clearly Troy was missing something. “Okay, let's go over this again. Start from the beginning.”

“Okay,” Megan said impatiently. “I met her for lunch. We do that every so often, you know.”

Troy did, and was grateful for any information his daughter could provide regarding Faith.

“She's helping me with the blanket I'm knitting for the baby. I'm practically finished and it's really nice.”

Troy smiled, excited all over again at the prospect of becoming a grandfather. He knew one thing for sure—his grandchild was going to be a very spoiled baby.

“She almost didn't tell me. In fact, I had the distinct feeling Faith wasn't going to mention it.”

“She realized you'd eventually pass it on to me.”

“Probably,” Megan agreed. “At any rate, just as we were leaving and Faith was putting on her coat, she said she'd decided to move. She said that coming back to Cedar Cove had been a mistake. Her home in Seattle sold so quickly, she hadn't thought everything through. Now she thinks it might be better if she left the area entirely.”

Shock rippled through Troy.

“Aren't you going to say anything?” Megan asked.

Troy couldn't speak for a moment. Faith wasn't moving from one house to another; she'd be moving to another town. Troy knew why. She wanted to get away from him.

“I…see,” he finally managed.

“You aren't going to
let
her leave, are you?” Megan asked, sounding like a little girl who wasn't happy with the answer she'd been given.

“There's nothing I can do to stop her.”

“Dad!”

The shock was still fresh and he hadn't absorbed this new information. So Faith was leaving town. He wanted to protest, demand she reconsider, but he had no right to ask. All he could do was stand back and keep his opinions to himself.

“I'm not seeing Faith anymore,” he reminded Megan.

“But you love her.”

Troy didn't deny it. He did love Faith. Her plan to leave Cedar Cove cut him to the quick, but he couldn't think of a single thing he could do to change her mind.

“How do Scott and his family feel about this?” Troy asked. One reason Faith had moved to town was to be closer to her son and grandchildren.

“I asked her that,” Megan told him. “And she pointed out that her daughter, Jay Lynn, lives in north Seattle with her family. Jay Lynn said that after all the problems Faith's had in Cedar Cove, she should consider leaving.”

He doubted Jay Lynn was referring only to the prowler. He felt she was insinuating that the disappointment he'd brought into Faith's life was a problem, too—a good reason to leave. Troy couldn't blame her family. They were concerned about their mother's physical and emotional welfare.

“Daddy, you have to do
something,
” Megan said again.

Troy leaned against the kitchen counter. “I'll do whatever I can.” Although he had no idea what that would be…

“I like Faith so much.”

“I know.” He liked Faith, too—more than liked her—and he wished he could persuade her to stay in Cedar Cove.

“Thank you, Daddy. You'll find a way. I'm sure you will.”

A couple of minutes later, the conversation ended with Megan inviting him to dinner the following weekend, and Troy replaced the receiver.

The day just seemed to get more complicated. Needing a distraction, he walked into the living room and switched on the evening news, wondering if the Seattle TV stations had gotten wind of the coroner's report. Thankfully there was nothing.

After half an hour or so, he decided it was time to eat. Searching through the cupboards, he found a can of chili. Opening it, he dumped the contents into a bowl, which he set in the microwave. While his meal warmed, he sorted through the mail, his thoughts still on Faith.

“No!” He said the word aloud. Megan was right; he had to talk to Faith, convince her that leaving Cedar Cove would be wrong. He didn't know if he'd be able to talk her out of this—or if he even had the right to try. The thing was, he couldn't idly stand by because Faith meant too much to him. She
belonged
here.

He reached for the phone just as his chili was done. Ignoring it, he punched out her number. The phone rang four times before the answering machine informed him that no one was home. Rather than leave a message, he hung up.

More depressed than ever, Troy paced the kitchen, gulping down spoonfuls of chili as he considered his options.

Perhaps it was just as well that he hadn't spoken to Faith, he told himself. If she felt she had to escape Cedar Cove, then maybe he should simply let her go.

That conviction stayed with him for five whole days—until late Wednesday afternoon. On his drive home, Troy saw Faith's car in the Safeway parking lot. He needed bread, anyway, he reasoned, and pulled into a space as far from hers as he could find. He didn't want Faith to assume he was seeking her out—although, in truth, he was.

The weather, overcast and gloomy, matched his mood. Ever since Megan's phone call, his appetite had vanished and he wasn't sleeping well. Although he longed to talk to Faith, he realized he couldn't ask her to remain in Cedar Cove, and yet…he had to. If she left, he'd always regret it.

After their last meeting, he'd felt hopeful that at some point they'd be able to put their differences behind them. He didn't know anymore. Although he'd developed good instincts about people and situations in his years of police work, he couldn't read Faith or understand her feelings.

Two weeks ago, when she'd called him about the intruder outside her bedroom window, reconciliation had actually seemed possible. He'd been depressed after seeing her with Will Jefferson, but that night he'd let her know how much he loved and needed her. He hadn't used those precise words but he couldn't have made his feelings any more obvious.

The way he figured it, the next move was hers. He hadn't pressured her, assuming his patience would eventually be rewarded. Apparently he'd been wrong.

By the time Troy had walked across the Safeway parking lot and grabbed a cart, his coat was damp. Once inside, he did a wide sweep of the perimeter, hurrying past the deli, the fresh fruits and vegetables and then the frozen-food section. Finally he spotted Faith halfway down one of the center aisles. She appeared to be reading the back of a box of pasta.

Attempting to look casual, he entered that aisle and slowed down as he drew close. Faith glanced up and her eyes widened when she saw him.

“Hello, Troy.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgment and maneuvered his empty cart next to hers. He wished he'd had the foresight to toss in a few items to give her the impression that he'd been in the store a while.

“Faith,” he murmured.

They stared at each other a long moment, and Troy decided to wait her out, let her speak first. Silence was a common investigative technique; most people felt uncomfortable with a gap in the conversation and rushed to fill it. They often revealed more than they intended.

“How are you?” she asked awkwardly after half a minute of silence.

When he was speaking to a suspect, Troy generally answered a question with one of his own. He did that now. “Did you have that security system installed like I suggested?”

“I did and it was worth every penny,” she told him. “It's given me peace of mind.”

He reached for a bag of spaghetti noodles and dropped it into his cart, as if that was the sole reason he'd come grocery shopping. Her reaction to his next question would tell him everything he needed to know.

“When's moving day?”

She blanched. “Oh, so Megan told you.”

“Wasn't that what you wanted?”

Frowning, she looked down at her cart as though she'd forgotten something on her list and couldn't remember what it might be.

“Wasn't it?” he repeated, unwilling to let her sidestep the question.

Her shoulders sagged. “I suppose I did,” she mumbled.

“You couldn't have phoned me yourself?”

“I…I…” She shifted her weight and stared down at the floor; he could tell his questions unsettled her. “Every time I see you lately, you're angry.” She looked up and met his gaze.

“I'm not angry,” he said. “You're welcome to live wherever you wish. If you want to move away from Cedar Cove, then be my guest.” He snapped his mouth shut before he could say another word.

Faith's head flew back. Her eyes narrowed and he could see the anger welling up inside her. Biting her lip, she placed both hands on her cart and began to walk away.

He started after her, shoving his cart ahead of him. “Faith! Hold on a minute.”

She disregarded him, rounding the corner with long strides. He was catching up, feeling like a participant in a stock-car race, when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Sheriff Davis!”

Troy reluctantly came to a halt, and glanced over his shoulder to find Louie Benson wheeling his grocery cart toward him.
Not now,
Troy thought. But he was trapped. Much as he wanted to hurry after Faith, he dared not ignore the mayor.

“I'm glad I caught you,” Louie said.

Troy offered him a weak smile. “What can I do for you?”

“I read the coroner's final report but haven't had a chance to discuss the details with you. I assume you've read it?”

“I did,” Troy replied crisply, trying to defer this. He wanted to apologize to Faith, make amends if it wasn't already too late.

The mayor hesitated. “Did you see the statement that, judging by the skull, the young man had Down syndrome?”

“I did.”

“This opens up an entirely new front in your investigation, doesn't it?”

“I—”

“I just hope the media doesn't pick up on it,” he murmured.

“So do I,” Troy said. He was off duty and wanted out of this conversation. “If you'll excuse me, there's someone I need to talk to.”

“Of course. Sorry if I interrupted you.”

“It's okay,” Troy said, rushing down the aisle, abandoning his cart. If he was lucky, he might still be able to catch up with Faith and apologize.

Luck was with him, and he saw her at the checkout stand. He waited outside until she'd finished paying for her groceries.

As soon as she stepped through the doors into the gloomy afternoon, he approached her. “I'd like to apologize, Faith.”

“What for?” she asked, moving past him.

Troy had seen that expression before and knew it wasn't a good sign.

“I came at you like…like an angry bear.”

“Not at all,” she countered, walking purposefully toward the parking lot.

Troy followed her.

“You were right,” she said. “I was foolish to mention my plans to Megan. It was the coward's way out and I was immediately sorry I'd done it.” Her pace clipped, she headed for her vehicle.