Pelican Court (Cedar Cove #3)(97)

Roy believed him.

Davis hesitated. “It seems to me you’ve studied that list a couple of times in the last few months. Why all the interest now?”

“I’ve got a feeling.”

“Tell me about your feeling and I’ll tell you about mine.”

Roy nodded; that was fair. “Do you remember, when Russell’s daughter was at the Beldons’, she mentioned the automobile accident that killed her mother?”

“I remember.”

“She said her father claimed something had gone wrong with the steering.”

“According to the report, the accident investigator found nothing,” Davis reminded him.

“Right,” Roy agreed, but they both knew there were ways to disguise the true cause of an accident. In addition, there’d been a fire, the same fire that had badly burned Russell’s face and hands. The blaze could easily have destroyed any evidence of foul play.

“Well?” Davis asked.

“We still don’t know what killed Russell.”

“We know his heart stopped beating. What we don’t know is why. But then, as the medical examiner said, the guy was in his late fifties, had been to war and back, and survived one hell of a car accident. Maybe it was just his time. He went peacefully, the doc said.”

Roy nodded, but he wasn’t buying any of it. “As I recall, there was something else in Russell’s personal effects.”

“What was that?” Davis asked, looking back at the list. Another smile slipped into place as he slowly straightened and leaned toward his desk. “A half-full bottle of flavored water,” he said, answering his own question.

“Did Russell’s daughter happen to take that with her?”

Davis shook his head. “She read it on the list, said it wasn’t unusual for her father to drink bottled water.” He shrugged. “I didn’t offer to give it to her—don’t have it anymore.”

Roy could feel his heart start to pound. “Don’t tell me you tossed it.”

“Nope.” Davis was grinning now. “I sent it off to the toxicology lab.”

Their eyes met and they nodded at each other in unspoken agreement. “My guess is, this death wasn’t as natural as some would like to believe,” Davis said.

“Why was he killed?”

“Why travel with fake identification? Why come to Cedar Cove in the first place?”

“He came to see Beldon,” Roy said. He was confident of that much.

“Maybe he didn’t. Or maybe that wasn’t the only reason he showed up in Cedar Cove.”

“What other reason could there be?”

Sheriff Davis leaned back in his chair with a self-satisfied look. “Maybe he came to find out what happened to Dan Sherman.”

Twenty-Six

“I don’t need a baby-sitter,” Eddie insisted, defiantly crossing his arms. He glared at Allison, his eyes narrowed, as he silently challenged her to say otherwise.

“Do, too,” Allison retorted. Zach’s daughter had never been able to walk away from a dare, especially one issued by her little brother.

“I think we should leave now,” Zach whispered to Rosie under his breath, “before the kids give us an excuse to stay.”

“Tell her,” Eddie demanded, pleading with his father.

Zach sympathized with the boy, but there were limitations to what he could say and do. “Baby-sitters get paid, and your sister isn’t getting anything to stay home with you.”

“You mean I’m doing this for nothing?” Allison cried, but the outrage was all for show and Zach knew it.

Eddie was only partially mollified, but he didn’t protest again when Zach led Rosie out the front door. “The kids’ll be fine.”

Rosie agreed. “I’ve been dying to see this movie.”

“Me, too,” Zach said as he hurried ahead to open the car door for her.

To his astonishment, she stared at the door and didn’t move.

“What?” he asked, slightly annoyed. Granted, it was an old-fashioned courtesy, but Rosie had never objected to it before.

“It’s…it’s just that it’s been a long time since you opened the car door for me.”

Zach felt a little shocked. He knew she was talking about the last year of their marriage, and he supposed she was right. They’d treated each other without considerateness or respect, and the disappearance of small courtesies was a symptom of that.

“It’s a nice touch, Zach, it always was. Thank you.” She slipped into the car and reached for her seat belt.

Zach hurried around the front of the vehicle. This was their third “date.” Their first had been dinner the night Rosie had wept and the children had called him. He still didn’t understand what that had been all about, but she seemed to feel better after they’d talked. Even now, almost two weeks later, he didn’t remember exactly what they’d discussed that evening; what he remembered was how comfortable it felt to spend time with Rosie again.

In the mess they’d made of their lives, Zach had forgotten one important fact. Rosie had been more than his wife—she’d been his friend. He’d missed the little confidences they’d once shared, the small private jokes, the conversations in bed late at night. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about those things until recently, and he realized how much he missed her. How much he missed the way they used to be…