Rosewood Lane (Cedar Cove #2)(76)
There was a tense moment before Maryellen answered. “Not really…Actually, I’m hoping for a girl and if the baby does happen to be one, I was thinking of naming her Catherine Grace.”
“That’s a beautiful name.”
Grace felt tears prick her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away, not wanting to subdue the evening’s mood by getting sentimental and weepy. She so longed for this weekend to be perfect. She wanted to laugh with her daughters, to talk and reclaim the closeness they’d once shared.
When Dan disappeared, the three women had lost more than a husband and father; their sense of family and security had been damaged. For herself, Grace needed answers but at this point it didn’t matter what those answers were.
In the meantime, it was as if they were holding their collective breath. They’d been left suspended between what they knew and what they didn’t. There were no answers to account for Dan’s disappearance—just doubts and questions. Because of this, a rift had slowly developed between them. It was that rift Grace was trying to heal.
They woke early the next morning, eager to explore and play tourist. They started with the Pike Place Market, eating hot rolls and drinking exotic blends of coffee on the street. They walked between long stalls, laden with every kind of fruit and vegetable. Grace liked the seafood stands the best. Fish, crab, shrimp, clams and scallops were displayed on beds of crushed ice. They cheered with the rest of the crowd as the fishmongers tossed large salmon to one another.
They ate lunch on the waterfront under gray, overcast skies. Next they toured the Seattle Aquarium and saw the Imax film of the eruption of Mt.Saint Helens, a tourist favorite. By the end of the day, they were giddy with exhaustion. No one was eager to go out again, so they ordered pizza, which was delivered to their hotel room. They sat on the beds, ate with their hands and laughed over paying an outrageous three dollars for a single can of soda out of the room’s minibar.
Despite being tired, they stayed up, dressed in their pajamas and robes, and talked away the night. Each avoided the subject of Dan and all the conjecture that surrounded his disappearance. Nor did they discuss Maryellen’s pregnancy, other than to come up with possible boys’ names. Yet both subjects were very much on their minds. Like Grace, neither of her daughters was willing to risk the fragile peace they’d discovered.
Sunday when they checked out of the hotel, Grace was tired, and more than a little regretful that their time had come to an end. Yet she was exhilarated to have shared this special weekend with her daughters. It was everything she’d hoped it would be.
“Let’s do this again,” she said as they sat in the ferry terminal and waited to walk onto the boat.
“It won’t be as easy next year,” Maryellen said. “Not for me, at any rate. I’ll have the baby.”
“Bring her,” Kelly insisted.
“Her?” Maryellen joked. “You sound very sure that I’m going to have a daughter.”
“It’s a girl,” Kelly said confidently.
“How can you possibly know that?”
“I just do.” She crossed her arms and stretched out her legs, leaning back against the hard wooden bench. “In my heart, I knew Tyler was a boy long before he was born and I have the strongest feeling that you’re going to get your little Catherine Grace.”
Grace had no idea whether her daughter was guessing or if she did indeed “have a feeling.” In any event, she figured Kelly had a fifty percent chance of being right. Most importantly, she saw her daughters laughing and joking together when only a few days ago she’d thought that might never happen again.
When she’d booked the hotel, Grace’s rational self had said she couldn’t afford this; now she knew it had been worth every penny.
Roy McAfee looked away from the computer screen and glanced down at the Sherman file on his desk, a file that grew thicker by the week. Months earlier, Grace Sherman had hired him to discover what he could about her missing husband. So far he’d struck out. He’d come across a number of potential clues, but they’d all gone nowhere. Roy took this case personally and felt decidedly frustrated by his lack of success.
After twenty years on the Seattle police force, Roy had reached the rank of detective. Following a back injury he’d sustained from tackling a suspect, he accepted early retirement. Timing was good; both their sons had graduated from college and were on their own.
He and Corrie had moved to Cedar Cove, where the cost of living wasn’t as prohibitive and property values remained reasonable. Roy had expected to settle happily into early retirement.
What Royhadn’t expected was how quickly he’d grow bored with sitting around the house. Within eighteen months of moving to Cedar Cove, he’d started a new business—as a private investigator. Corrie had been around police work her entire life, and she took on the task of being his assistant and secretary.
When he hung out his shingle, Roy had assumed he’d be getting mainly employee background checks and insurance cases, but the surprising variety of business that came his way made life interesting. His most puzzling and difficult case was the disappearance of Dan Sherman. The man had vanished so completely that if Roy didn’t know better, he might suspect Dan had become part of the Witness Protection Program.
Corrie walked into the office and brought him a cup of freshly brewed coffee. She nodded at the computer screen. “Dan Sherman?”