Cranberry Point (Cedar Cove #4)(50)

Charlotte beamed him a smile. Very little got past Jack Griffin. "It could," she murmured and continued to concentrate on her knitting for fear he'd read the absolute delight in her eyes.

"My guess—"

"I'm not at liberty to say another word, Jack. An announcement will be made by the mayor tomorrow morning."

"So Cedar Cove is going to get its health clinic, after all?"

Charlotte kept her head lowered. "That's a distinct possibility, but you didn't hear it from me, understand?"

Jack chuckled. "Sure enough."

"Is that the only reason you're here?" Charlotte asked. She wondered who'd mentioned the news about the clinic. Bess had come over earlier and Charlotte had shared it with her dear friend. Bess had been thrilled, but she never could keep a secret, no matter how much she promised.

Jack got up and stared into the kitchen. "I didn't actually stop by because of the clinic. That was a convenient excuse. Where's Olivia hiding?"

"I most certainly am not hiding," her daughter announced, moving to the kitchen doorway where she stood with her arms crossed. "I—I was taking Mother's pie out of the oven."

"Oh, dear, I'd forgotten all about it. I didn't hear the timer." Charlotte was so flustered that the cherry pie had completely slipped her mind.

"I think I should give you two a moment alone," Charlotte said, walking past Olivia to check on the pie. Never in all her life had it taken her longer to complete a single row of knitting. She couldn't quite stifle a sigh. In the last thirty minutes, she'd been up and down more times than an elevator.

Olivia remained in the kitchen doorway and it was all Charlotte could do not to push her forward. Jack wasn't standing in the living room because he liked the view. He'd come for his wife and if Olivia had a lick of sense she'd realize it.

They stared at each other and finally Jack spoke. "I promise I won't leave the peanut butter out again," he muttered.

Charlotte resisted the urge not to giggle.

Olivia sniffled. "Oh, Jack, I didn't mean any of those terrible things I said."

"I didn't either."

"It's just that I—I guess I really am a neat freak..."

Jack shook his head. "I'm a slob. I'll try harder, I promise."

"I will, too."

Olivia flew out of the kitchen then. Charlotte peered into the living room and discovered that Jack had his arms around his wife. They hugged each other for a long moment.

Everything was going to be all right, she thought with relief. They'd have their difficulties but their commitment and love for each other was strong enough to keep them together.

"Are you ready to go home?" Olivia asked her husband.

Jack nodded and kissed the top of her head. "Do you really think I'm a sex fiend?"

"Jack!" Olivia glanced over her shoulder and Charlotte pretended not to have heard.

"Best compliment I've had in years."

"Oh, honestly." The laughter was back in Olivia's voice.

Arm in arm, they walked out the door.

Sex fiend. Her daughter didn't know how lucky she was.

Twenty-Five

Bob 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 overrel acting, 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, Bod 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 publica tion. 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.