Sandpiper Way (Cedar Cove #8)(23)

Perhaps even more so, he mused, cringing at the thought. He hated what was happening between him and Emily but seemed unable to tell her the truth. After Christmas, he’d fess up. That was a promise he fully intended to keep.

Carefully holding his mug, Allan led the way into his office. He motioned to the visitor’s chair across from his desk, then claimed his own.

“I appreciate that you’re willing to meet with me,” Allan said, setting his mug on a coaster amid the clutter of papers and books.

“I’ll admit I’m curious as to why.” Dave guessed this had something to do with Martha Evans. The elderly woman had died in September. During her last year, Dave had made a point of visiting her as often as he could. In many ways, she reminded him of his own grandmother with her indomitable spirit and sharp wit. She kept a Bible close at hand and had memorized large sections of Scripture.

“I’ve been talking to the heirs,” Allan said.

“Yes?” Dave couldn’t help noticing that the attorney suddenly seemed agitated, rolling a pen between his open hands.

Allan stared hard at him. “Several pieces of Martha’s jewelry are missing.”

“I know.” But Dave didn’t understand what that had to do with him. He’d already spoken to Sheriff Davis and told him everything he knew about the missing jewelry, which was next to nothing.

“Would you mind going over the details of the morning you discovered her body?”

“Of course not.” Dave hesitated. He’d described it to the sheriff more than once, and had the creeping sensation that Allan was viewing him as a suspect. That unnerved him. “I stopped by two or three times a week to visit,” he began.

Allan nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“That particular day was a Saturday.”

“It was,” Allan concurred.

“She didn’t respond to the doorbell. Martha no longer left the house for anything other than doctors’ appointments. When she didn’t answer, I was afraid something might be wrong.”

Allan dropped the pen and leaned forward. “Did you phone 911?”

The question surprised him. “Not right away. I didn’t want to do that until I was sure…”

“So you went directly into the house?”

“Well, yes. I knew where Martha hid the spare key, so I unlocked the front door and let myself in.” He paused. “I’d done this before,” he added, “since Martha always kept the door locked. It saved her the effort of getting up.”

“She was dead when you went in?”

“Yes. According to the coroner’s report, she died peacefully sometime during the night. When I first saw her, I actually thought she was still asleep.” Although he should’ve been emotionally prepared, Dave had felt a deep sense of loss at the old woman’s death. She’d become his friend, and his confidante.

“How long after you discovered her body did you contact the authorities?” Allan asked next.

This was beginning to sound as if Allan was writing a police report. Dave had answered these same questions the day Martha died, when Sheriff Davis interviewed him, and again later.

“I walked into the bedroom, checked for a pulse and got out my cell.”

“You didn’t use her phone?”

“No…”

“I see.” Allan made a notation on his pad.

“Is there a problem?”

“No, not at all,” Allan assured him. “How long before the paramedics arrived?”

Dave needed to think about that. “Not long. Between five and ten minutes.”

Allan Harris nodded. “Where did you wait for them? Inside the house or outside?”

“Inside.” Actually, he’d knelt at Martha’s bedside and prayed. He met the attorney’s gaze. “Is there a specific reason you’re asking me these questions?”

“Like I explained—” Allan cleared his throat “—Martha’s daughters came by to tell me that several pieces of their mother’s jewelry are missing. They’ve already spoken to the sheriff and are pretty upset. Apparently Martha kept a number of valuable pieces in the house.”

“You don’t seriously think I’d steal from Martha, do you?” Anger rose to the surface and he struggled to disguise how insulted he was by such an accusation. Getting upset might imply guilt, however, so he held on to his temper.

“No one’s saying anything.”

“I didn’t even know Martha had a lot of expensive jewelry.” It wasn’t as if he’d searched the old woman’s cupboards or dresser drawers.

“I believe you,” Allan said, “but the family insists everything was there on Friday evening, when they visited her.”

“If they were so concerned about the jewelry, why didn’t they put it in a safer place?”

Allan shrugged. “I asked them the same question. I gather they weren’t comfortable suggesting it to their mother.”

Dave could understand that. Once Martha made a decision she wouldn’t budge. If she felt her jewelry was perfectly safe at the house, then little would persuade her otherwise.

“None of it was locked up?” Dave asked. He knew Martha kept at least some of her jewels hidden in the freezer; she’d told him so. But he’d certainly never looked.