Sandpiper Way (Cedar Cove #8)(87)

“Not Emily?”

Dave shook his head. “I tried not to think about it.” Most people had at least one thing in their lives that they wished they could do over. Some mistake or error in judgment. Some act of selfishness or stupidity.

“You didn’t mention what the crime was,” Roy reminded him.

“You’re right, I didn’t.”

“Any particular reason?”

Dave swallowed. “Theft.”

Leaning back in his chair, Roy stared up at him. “What did you take?”

“It wasn’t me.” A protest rose automatically to his lips. Dredging up these memories was painful, and he was a different person than he’d been all those years ago.

Roy didn’t press him to continue. Dave started to pace, and after a few minutes, felt ready to explain. “I grew up a preacher’s kid.”

“So your father was a pastor, too?”

Dave ignored the question because the answer was obvious. “As is often the case, there’s a lot of pressure on a minister’s family. We kids were expected to set an example, to behave perfectly so not to embarrass our parents.”

“That’s a pretty high standard to live up to.”

“It was for me. I tried to be the son my father wanted. Still, no matter what I did, my parents found fault.”

“It’s not all that different for a cop’s kids,” Roy told him.

Dave had never considered that the situation in other families might be the same, which was naive of him.

“When I reached my teens, I gave up trying to please my father,” he said.

“In other words, you rebelled.”

That was an understatement, to say the least. Dave had rejected all his father’s values and principles. He’d skipped classes, hung around with a rough crowd, started drinking underage. Because he’d graduated from high school at seventeen he began his first year of college before his eighteenth birthday. That was when he connected with Tom Cummings and his friends.

Dave had never met anyone like Tom. He was a natural leader, and being part of his group had made Dave feel important, included. While it was true that Tom was a practical joker, a guy who always tested the limits, it was all in good fun. Or so Dave had thought. Until, one day, it ceased being fun.

Tom needed money. Dave couldn’t remember why it was so critical that Tom have four hundred dollars. Of course none of them had that kind of money to spare. Although if he’d had the funds—or access to them—Dave would’ve blindly handed over whatever Tom demanded.

Someone came up with the idea. In the beginning Dave had been sure it was a joke. All too soon he discovered how real it was, and by then…

“What were the charges against you?”

“Theft and aggravated assault.” The words sounded foreign to him, as if they were from a different language. One he didn’t speak, didn’t understand.

His admission hung in the air between them, like the dust that follows an explosion.

“What was the age of the victim?” Roy finally asked.

The tightness in his throat made it almost impossible to answer. “Seventy-three.”

Roy set his pen aside and exhaled slowly.

“You don’t need to tell me how bad this looks,” Dave muttered.

If news of his youthful arrest went public, no one would ever believe that he hadn’t stolen from Martha Evans. No one would ever believe him again, period. He’d lose all credibility.

He might as well give up now. The fact that the incident had happened almost twenty years ago didn’t matter. Nor did all the years he’d served God and this community. People would remember only one thing about him—what he’d done at eighteen.

Roy was suspiciously quiet.

“I suppose you’re going to advise me to turn myself in,” Dave said stiffly, his back straight and his voice hard.

“Did you steal Martha Evans’s jewelry?”

“I already told you I didn’t have anything to do with that!” he cried. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“On the contrary, I do.”

“But everyone will think—”

“You know the truth,” Roy said without emotion, “and since it is the truth, I don’t feel you have anything to worry about.”

Dave’s relief was so great that for a moment he thought he might break down.

“You believe I’m telling the truth even though all the evidence seems to point directly at me?”

Roy shrugged. “Sheriff Davis would be the first to tell you that while circumstantial evidence can solve a crime, it can be misleading, too. The person responsible for the crime isn’t always the most obvious. Everything you’ve told me amounts to circumstantial evidence. You claim you didn’t have anything to do with those missing jewels. I’ve known you for a number of years and I’ve never seen you do anything underhanded or dishonest. So…I believe you.”

It felt good to have at least one person on his side. “Why should you trust me? I mean, maybe I haven’t really changed. Maybe I’m still a thief.” He couldn’t resist pushing Roy. He needed all the reassurance he could get.

“Why should I trust you?” Again Roy shrugged. “Because I do. First, you wouldn’t wander around town flaunting that watch if you’d stolen it. For another thing, I feel I’m a good judge of character.”