Pelican Court (Cedar Cove #3)(89)

Bob waited until they were seated before he said, “Peggy told me she’d asked you to join us. Frankly I appreciate the fact that you’re here.”

“I’m glad to do it,” Roy assured him.

The doorbell chimed again, and Peggy’s heart instantly flew into her throat. Bob’s eyes met hers and he, too, seemed momentarily paralyzed. He recovered quickly. With a determined stride he went to answer the door.

The young woman who stepped into the foyer was very tall and thin, and Peggy had a whimsical image of her as one of the great blue herons who stalked the pebble beach of the cove. Sheriff Davis entered the house behind their guest.

The woman, who appeared to be close in age to her own children, wore a full-length, tan raincoat with navy-blue pants and a sweater. Her dark hair was tied with a scarf at the base of her neck.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hannah,” Bob said as he took her coat. “I wish it was under more pleasant circumstances.”

“So do I.” She glanced nervously into the room.

Roy stood for the introduction, which Peggy thought was a nice touch. He then shook hands with Sheriff Davis. If the sheriff had any questions about the McAfees’ presence, he didn’t voice them.

Once everyone was settled—Sheriff Davis and Hannah in the chairs by the fireplace—Peggy suggested they talk first and save the coffee and cookies for later.

“I think that would be best,” Hannah said. Her voice was soft and modulated as she leaned forward and folded her hands on her knees, almost as if she were a schoolgirl. She did look young, and so vulnerable. Peggy resisted the urge to give her shoulders a reassuring squeeze.

“I hope we can answer your questions,” Bob began.

“I hope you can, too.” Hannah inhaled loudly, obviously gathering strength.

“Earlier today I was in to see Sheriff Davis,” Hannah said, nodding at him. “He gave me my dad’s ashes. I’ll take them back to California and place them in the mausoleum next to my mother.”

Peggy could only imagine how difficult this must be for someone so young. “I hope now that your father’s been found, you have some closure,” she said. The words sounded hollow and trite to her own ears.

“I don’t know if closure is possible until I discover why Dad came to Cedar Cove in the first place,” Hannah responded. “As I was telling Sheriff Davis, we don’t know anyone in Washington state. As far as I’m aware, Dad’s never been to this area before…and he was acting so mysterious when he left. He didn’t want me to find out where he was going—that was pretty clear. I wouldn’t even have known he was leaving if I hadn’t stopped in to see him that day. Can you tell me anything?” she pleaded.

“I wish I could,” Bob answered, “but Peggy and I are as much at a loss as you.”

Peggy murmured agreement.

“I suppose you want to know whatever I can tell you about that night,” Bob said, leaning forward.

“Please. Anything would be helpful.”

Bob proceeded to fill in the details, describing everything he and Peggy had discussed dozens of times, together and with the police.

“Sheriff Davis said sometimes it’s the minutest detail that leads to an answer,” Peggy added.

There was a brief silence after this remark.

“Would you mind answering a few questions I have?” Roy asked Hannah.

“I will if I can.”

Sheriff Davis frowned, but he didn’t intrude.

“I understand your father was injured in a car accident that also killed your mother?”

Hannah’s face was troubled. “He never forgave himself for that.”

“What caused the accident?”

Her eyes widened. “The investigation determined that my father was at fault.”

“I read the accident report,” Roy said slowly, “and your father claimed the steering failed.”

“He did say that,” Hannah agreed, “but the accident investigators couldn’t find anything wrong with the steering system. The only thing they could suggest is the tube leading to the automatic steering system had an air pocket in it. Apparently that sometimes happens, but it’s rare, and without any conclusive evidence, my father was found to be at fault.” She paused and looked at Sheriff Davis. “I think in some ways it might’ve been easier on my dad if he’d died that night.”

“The guilt?” Troy asked.

“That,” she said, “and month upon month of surgery and physical therapy.”

“What about your father’s friends?” Roy asked next.

Hannah glanced down at her hands. “Dad was pretty much a loner. He didn’t have a lot of friends. Oh—there was one old army buddy who helped him get into the VA hospital where he was treated. But other than that…” She shook her head. “Mom told me he was a different man before the war. They were just dating back then, and she saved all his letters. Some days after they’d had an argument, she would sit on their bed and read them. She said they reminded her of what Dad was like before the war.

“Do you still have those letters?” Roy asked.

“I’d like to see them if you do,” Sheriff Davis said before Roy could ask.

“Yes, but I’d want them back.”