Pelican Court (Cedar Cove #3)(38)

“I was hoping you might be able to give me some advice.”

“I will if I can.”

Bob’s next shot was a slice that went into the trees. He muttered under his breath. “I’m not much good at this.”

Dave was sympathetic. He had a wicked slice of his own, but he didn’t comment, giving Bob the room he needed to speak his mind.

It wasn’t until the fourth hole that Bob said anything more. “I’ve had this recurring nightmare for thirty years—ever since I got back from Nam.”

Dave stood by the golf cart. “Is that what you’d like to discuss?”

Bob nodded and leaned heavily against the cart. “The event in the dream actually happened…I feel all the horror and panic, the numbing fear. I hear it and see it in graphic detail. I…live it all over again.”

He climbed into the golf cart and closed his eyes. “After Nam, I took to the bottle to forget.” His voice was so low it was all Dave could do to make out the words.

“You started drinking?” he clarified.

Bob nodded, opening his eyes. “After my tour of duty, I came back to Peggy. It didn’t take me long to nearly destroy my marriage and my life by hiding behind an alcoholic haze. For a few years I could forget, but soon even the alcohol didn’t help. That was when I went to AA. It’s the only reason I’m sober today.”

Dave was growing concerned. If possible, Bob had gone even paler. “What can I do?” he asked.

“As part of the Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous, we’re asked to make amends whenever possible. I can’t undo what happened that day in the jungle. Peggy’s the only one who knows all the details, the only one I’ve ever told. Dan might’ve said something to Grace before he—”

“Dan Sherman?”

Bob nodded again. “We enlisted for Nam after high school as part of the buddy program and went all the way through together.”

“So Dan Sherman was with you in the jungle?”

“Yeah.” Bob drew one hand along his face. “I suspect it’s the reason he shot himself. God knows I was tempted to do it myself, especially in the early days when I was drinking hard. From what I understand, a lot of men have taken that way out. Truth be known, I can understand it.”

“I didn’t realize you and Dan were such good friends.”

“Ever since then, we haven’t been. After the war, Peggy and I moved around a lot. I worked as a plumber on big construction sites. We’ve only been back in Cedar Cove for the last six years.” Bob leaned forward and his arms circled the steering wheel. He stared into the distance. “I don’t mean to burden you with this, but I think I might be in some kind of trouble here.”

“It’s not a burden,” Dave assured him. “Just tell me how I can help.”

Bob’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “I need to know what I should do.”

“About what happened in the war?”

“Yes…and Dan.”

“There’s nothing we can do for Dan at this point.” Perhaps Bob was thinking he should somehow help Grace, but Dave doubted that.

Bob shook his head. “I know, I know…”

There was something Bob wasn’t telling him, something he was holding back. Dave decided not to pry. Bob would tell him when he was ready.

“Did I mention that sometimes, when I have this nightmare, I’ve gotten out of bed and walked around the house? A couple of years ago, Peggy found me getting ready to go outside. I was still in my pajamas and I was clutching the car keys—completely and totally asleep.”

Dave nodded, hoping his lack of comment would encourage Bob to continue. A lot of this didn’t add up, beginning with his talk about the dream, although that was obviously tied to whatever had happened in Nam.

Bob buried his face in his hands. “I hit Peggy when she tried to stop me from leaving the house. I swear to God I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” Dave said, responding to his friend’s distress. “In a sleepwalking state, you’re not conscious of your actions.”

After a lengthy pause, Bob lowered his voice and whispered, “I had the nightmare the night of that big storm, when the John Doe arrived.” His jaw was clenched tight and Dave noticed a muscle spasm.

“Did you sleepwalk?”

Bob’s face twisted in torment. “I don’t know. Peggy doesn’t think so, but we were both tired and she can’t be sure. I can’t, either.”

The confusion was starting to clear. “Do you think you might’ve had something to do with that unfortunate man’s death?”

Bob was silent for so long that Dave wondered if he’d heard him. “Bob?”

“I don’t know,” he answered after a moment. “It doesn’t seem likely, but…” He let the rest fade.

“Have the police questioned you?”

“They did in the beginning and one time shortly after. But I think they might want to talk to me again.”

Dave didn’t ask how he’d come by that information. “You’re concerned about what they might learn?”

“I have no idea what happened that night. But it’s more than not knowing. It’s Dan’s suicide—and the fact that the stranger seemed…familiar.”