Lighthouse Road (Cedar Cove #1)(93)

“Come on, honey, it’s not that big a deal, is it?”

Honey. Now she was his honey.

“Another evening, all right?”

“No,” she said softly but with conviction. “It isn’t all right.”

“Let me make sure I’m getting this,” Jack said after a long pulsing silence. “You’re angry because I can’t go to dinner with you at the drop of a hat.”

“No, Jack, that’s not it at all.” She straightened in her chair. “Listen, I’m sorry. It seems I’ve been reading more into our relationship than warranted—”

“Olivia…”

“No, please, I understand.”

“You don’t.”

“I do,” she countered. He wanted everything on his terms, which meant that any relationship could only be a surface one. He had his secrets, and she was just supposed to overlook that.

“Olivia…”

“I’m sorry you can’t make it for dinner,” she said, interrupting him a second time. “We’ll do it another night.” Maybe ten years from now.

“Don’t hang up that phone!” Jack shouted.

She was too stunned to react.

“I know what you’re going to do. The next time I call and suggest we get together, you’ll have a reason you can’t. The time after that, it’ll be the same, until I’ve got the message. Dammit, Olivia, I won’t let that happen.”

“Then I’ll be up front with it. Jack, I don’t think it’s a good idea to continue seeing each other.”

“Why? Because I can’t go to dinner with you tonight?”

“No,” she said swiftly. “Because I was married to a man who chose to keep secrets from me. I’m not willing to get involved with anyone who can’t be open and honest.”

Silence.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” she pressed. “You’re a man with secrets.”

It took him forever to answer. “If it gives you any pleasure, then I’ll say it. You’re right—I have my secrets.”

He replaced the receiver, and Olivia listened to the buzz droning in her ear. Jack should’ve known her better than that. She derived no pleasure from being right.

The instant Grace pulled into the driveway, Buttercup bounded out the doggie door at the back of the house and raced to her side.

“Hello, girl,” Grace said as she stepped out of the car. She leaned down and scratched the dog’s ears, then the two of them walked to the mailbox to collect the day’s offerings.

Along with a couple of magazines and a few odd bills, Grace got the Bremerton Sun.

“Are you ready for your dinner?” she asked Buttercup, unlocking the door that led to the kitchen.

The golden retriever dutifully walked to her water bowl and lapped up a drink, then waited patiently while Grace opened the closet door and brought out the large bag of dog food. She filled the dog’s dish, then settled down to glance at the mail.

Nothing important.

She set the magazines on the table and as she did so, noticed that the message light was flashing.

“Grace, it’s Roy McAfee. Give me a call when you get home.”

Dan.

Roy must have learned something about Dan. Her hand trembled as she looked up Roy’s number and immediately returned the call.

Corrie, Roy’s wife and assistant, connected her right away.

“Roy, this is Grace Sherman. Have you located Dan?”

“No, but I got the report from the Assets Check and thought you might be interested in what I found out.”

After running into nothing but dead ends, Roy had suggested they request a computer check for assets, but Grace had balked at forking over the extra two hundred-dollar fee required for the search. Learning that Dan held title to a piece of land wasn’t going to help her locate him. In a community property state, any bank records would be open to her without cost.

“So—anything interesting?”

“Yup. The report listed a license application Dan made last June.”

“A year ago.”

“That’s right. You didn’t tell me you two owned a travel trailer.”

“We don’t.”

“According to state records, Daniel Clayton Sherman residing at 204 Rosewood Lane, Cedar Cove, Washington, applied for a license for a travel trailer.”

“When?” Grace asked. “Exactly when?”

“June sixteenth of last year.”

The date was meaningless, and Grace felt numb. “I…I don’t know about any travel trailer.”

“I called the private party who sold it to him and discovered he paid cash. It’s a twenty-four footer. The other person wasn’t likely to forget, since Dan arrived with the money in fresh one-hundred-dollar bills.”

“How much?”

“According to the seller, thirteen-thousand dollars.”

“Cash?” They didn’t have thirteen-thousand dollars in cash. Any extra money had been invested. Nearly everything they’d managed to save over the years was in stocks and bonds.

“The man made quite a point of telling me it was all one-hundred-dollar bills. Actually, he was quite shaken when he was handed that much cash.”