Rainier Drive (Cedar Cove #6)(20)
She and Bruce lingered over coffee, while Jolene had a second hot chocolate. It was after eight by the time Rachel returned home. She’d enjoyed dinner as much as she had the shopping—which had netted her two new sweaters. Afterward, they’d all gone down to the Cedar Cove waterfront for a walk and an ice-cream cone. She’d described her odd meeting with Teri, and Bruce had laughed.
“If anyone can get past security to see Bobby Polgar, it’ll be Teri,” Bruce said.
“You think so?”
“I know so.” Bruce nodded confidently. “She isn’t one to let a little thing like security guards or TV cameras stop her.”
Rachel suspected he was right. If anyone could talk her way into meeting the top-ranked American chess champion, it’d be Teri.
She’d just unlocked her front door when the phone rang. Running to answer it, she threw down her shopping bags. As she’d hoped, it was Nate.
He told her he was calling from the stag, and she could hear shouts and laughter in the background. He didn’t seem to be enjoying himself.
“Where were you?” he demanded, sounding tired and argumentative.
“I told you I took Jolene shopping.”
“Until after eight? You said you’d be back by six.”
“Yes, but…” But he hadn’t suggested anything after that, since he’d had his own plans. “We finished up around six and then met Bruce for dinner at the Pancake Palace.”
Nate went quiet for a long moment. “You didn’t say anything about you and Brucie having dinner,” he muttered sarcastically.
“Well, no,” she agreed, “that didn’t come up until later. Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”
“Yes,” he stated matter-of-factly, “I am. I haven’t seen you all week.”
“I know, and I’ve missed you like crazy. This dinner thing didn’t mean anything, Nate. You know that. It was Bruce’s way of thanking me for taking Jolene shopping.”
“Okay,” he said in a grudging voice.
“Dinner meant nothing, I promise you.”
“Okay,” he said again. “Look, I’ve got tomorrow afternoon free. Do you think you could squeeze me into your busy social calendar?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good.”
They arranged to meet at the waterfront, and after a protracted good-night, Rachel replaced the receiver. She took a long shower, then got into an old flannel nightgown and sat in front of the television, hoping the ten o’clock news would have a story on the chess tournament. She half expected to see an item about a disruption, with Teri being hauled away by armed guards.
As the news began, her mind wandered back to the dinner with Bruce. She felt that their relationship had subtly changed in the last few months. She wasn’t sure how it’d happened or what it meant. She hadn’t lied or misled Nate; dinner tonight wasn’t a romantic tryst. Far from it. Yet something seemed different. Rachel could only wonder why that was.
When the news anchor spoke about the chess championship, she mentioned only a few of the details—the most prominent being that after his stunning first-match defeat, Bobby Polgar had taken the second match and then the third, winning the championship.
Eight
After pacing the hallway outside the sheriff’s office, Seth Gunderson sat restlessly on a nearby bench. Apparently Troy Davis had some news about the fire. Even after nearly a month, Seth had trouble adjusting to the reality of his and Justine’s loss. It felt as if he were in the middle of Leif’s toy kaleidoscope, the pieces of his life tossed about willy-nilly, forming random patterns that made no sense to him.
Despite his best efforts, Seth discovered himself lashing out at those around him. He felt guilty about the way he’d behaved and was thankful for Justine’s patience, although they’d had a spat just that morning.
Her comment a couple of weeks earlier that she might not want to rebuild had come as a shock. In his opinion, she wasn’t thinking clearly. He refused to let some unknown arsonist make his decisions for him. And the more his wife tried to convince him to consider options other than rebuilding, the more he shut her out. One thing was certain: Seth couldn’t sit around the house like this much longer. He was going stir-crazy, with nothing to do but fret and fume. Since Justine’s announcement, he hadn’t even found any pleasure in considering new designs for the restaurant.
The office door opened, and Troy stepped into the hallway. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” the sheriff said, extending his hand.
Seth stood and the two exchanged handshakes. Troy gestured toward his office, then went back inside and sat at his desk. Seth took the chair across from him.
“I was on the phone with the fire marshal when you arrived,” Troy explained.
Anxious to hear the latest update, Seth leaned forward. “So what’s the news?”
Troy tipped his chair back and locked his fingers behind his head. “There’s one detail that might be significant, but I’ll get to that later. The inspector hired by the insurance company confirmed what we already knew—that the fire was purposely set. An accelerant was used, probably gasoline. It started near the kitchen, then spread to your office and quickly engulfed the main dining room.”
“Suspects?”
“As you know, I’ve interviewed the employees,” Troy told him, dropping his arms and picking up a folder on his desk. “Plus former employees,” he added.