Cranberry Point (Cedar Cove #4)(30)

"Did your father ever explain why he felt Colonel Samuels owed him?"

"No. He never said."

Roy made another note.

"Did you ever personally meet Samuels?" Roy asked.

"No, but I spoke to him by telephone a number of times. He was able to get my father into the local veterans' hospital. The sad part is that it was all for nothing...." She let the rest fade.

Roy was afraid she was about to dissolve into tears, but she managed to keep her composure.

"The thing is..."

"Yes," Roy encouraged when she paused.

"I don't think Colonel Samuels helped willingly. I probably shouldn't even be saying this, but whenever Dad talked to the colonel, he was upset afterward. I remember once the nurse had to give him a sedative. I was just grateful Dad would receive the necessary medical treatment."

This was interesting. Perhaps Samuels wasn't everything Roy had been led to believe. Sheriff Davis felt that Samuels wasn't involved in the murder, and Roy had confidence in his instincts, but things weren't adding up the way they should.

"Anything else you can remember about Samuels and your father?" he asked.

"Not really... They only spoke a few times, which was probably for the best, seeing the effect he had on my father. I think—no, wait." She stopped abruptly. "I do remember something. It was several months after Dad was released from the hospital. Colonel Samuels phoned the house late one afternoon. Dad took the call and immediately lowered his voice. I realized he didn't want me listening in, so I made an excuse to leave the room." She seemed to be reviewing her memories. "I went into the kitchen, but I could still hear part of the conversation."

"What do you remember?"

"I found it all rather odd. I don't know if this is any help, but as I remember it, Dad said to Colonel Samuels that he'd never told anyone. I'm not sure what he never told, but my father was very firm about this secret being safe with him." She finished in a rush. "I'm just wondering if I heard him correctly," she murmured. "I tried to forget it because it wasn't for my ears, if you know what I mean."

"I do." And Roy also had a very good idea what Russell had been talking about. Apparently he hadn't discussed the incident in Vietnam with his daughter. It wasn't Roy's job to enlighten her about her father's past.

"Describe the last time you saw your father."

"Alive, you mean?" Her voice rocked with emotion. "This is all so strange. Dad and I talked every day, and I was sure he'd tell me about any trips. He didn't go out a lot after the accident, and when he did he always wore a hat. He said he didn't want people staring at him, but really, it wasn't necessary. The surgery was extremely successful. Anyway, for Dad just to leave and not mention his plans was unusual.

"I happened to stop by the house to check on him and was surprised to see he had a suitcase packed. I asked him where he was going, but all he said was that he'd made arrangements to be away for a few days. I asked again, but..."

"He still wouldn't tell you?"

"No. Anytime I had a question he didn't want to answer, he pretended not to hear me."

"Can you remember what he took with him?"

"I.. .I didn't see him drive off, so I don't. He had the one suitcase. That much I know. And his coat and hat, of course. Like I said, he was self-conscious about his scars."

"I'm sure he must have been," Roy concurred, although as she'd said, the plastic surgeon had done a masterful job.

At first glance, one would hardly have known that Russell had undergone extensive surgery.

'That's about it."

Roy jotted down a few more notes.

"Is there anything else?" she asked.

He did have other questions, but Roy wanted to mull over what he'd learned. "Not now. Would it be all right if I called you again sometime?"

"Of course." There was a silence. "I find it hard to accept that anyone would want my father dead. Even now, it's difficult to believe he isn't here."

"I'm sorry, Hannah, for your loss," he said, meaning it. "Thank you for your help."

"If you need any further information, please call."

"I will."

The conversation over, Roy hung up the phone and tilted back in his chair, closing his eyes.

Something was still missing here.

Fifteen

1 swear this class is going to kill me one day," Grace muttered breathlessly as Olivia led the way into the dressing room. Grace used the towel draped around her neck to wipe the sweat off her face. "I'm thinking," she continued, slumping down on the locker-room bench, "that we could just meet for dinner on Wednesday nights and give up this whole aerobics nightmare."

"Come on, Grace, you love our class."

"Wrong, I love to have finished our aerobics class. It's the jumping up and down part that's a drag."

Olivia laughed out loud. It'd been the same whiny song for the last four years. Grace complained constantly about the class but Olivia was convinced that her friend actually enjoyed it. Grace just didn't know she enjoyed it. However, she was the first to arrive each week and while she might moan through the entire routine, she always admitted she felt better afterward. Not immediately, but as soon as she managed to catch her breath.