Sandpiper Way (Cedar Cove #8)(99)

“James will be back,” she said once more, trying to inspire confidence in Teri and Bobby. “I don’t understand why he resigned. That seems a bit drastic, but I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“He meant it,” Bobby said dispassionately.

“This must be a knee-jerk reaction. It might even be a joke and he’ll be home by morning.” She couldn’t imagine that, but felt she had to suggest it.

Bobby immediately discounted the possibility. “James doesn’t know how to joke,” he said. “James is like me.”

“Oh.” Christie couldn’t figure out quite what to say to that. “Where would he go?” she asked instead.

Bobby shook his head.

“We’ve wondered the same thing,” Teri told her. “Bobby’s known him practically his entire life and James has never done anything like this.”

“Why are you so sure he won’t be back?” she asked.

Neither Teri nor Bobby seemed inclined to answer.

“See?” she cried with a sense of triumph. “You’re not sure at all. I think we’re overreacting here. James loves us. Give him a day or two, and once this has blown over, he’ll be back in his apartment as if nothing happened.”

Bobby stared at her. “He took everything with him.”

“What…what do you mean, everything?”

Bobby and her sister exchanged a look.

“He’s taken all his personal stuff—his computer, clothes, books,” her sister explained. “He’s gone, Christie, and we’re guessing he’ll never show his face in Cedar Cove again.”

Gone. For good. Took everything. Won’t be back.

Bobby knew James better than anyone, and if he thought James had left for good, he was probably right.

“Why would he do something like that?” Christie managed to croak out.

Bobby didn’t answer.

Men never stayed in her life. She’d told herself he was different. Special. She’d trusted him, and at the first sign of trouble James had fled.

Gazing up at the ceiling Christie blinked back tears. “Why is it,” she asked sarcastically, “that I have this ability to fall for all the wrong men?” At least this one hadn’t beaten or robbed her or cheated with another woman. Nor had he drunk her out of house and home.

Oh, no, James “Wilbur” Gardner was special, all right. He hadn’t done any of those things; instead, he’d broken her heart more thoroughly, more completely, than any other man ever had. An all-consuming pain rippled through her.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” she said and surged to her feet.

“I’m sorry,” Teri murmured. “We didn’t…I didn’t want to ruin your Christmas.”

“You didn’t,” she said flippantly. “In fact, the holidays are just getting started. Come to think of it, I’ve got a lot of celebrating to do.” On a mission now, she grabbed her purse and headed for the front door. If she hurried, she’d make it to The Pink Poodle before the end of happy hour.

Thirty-Five

This was exactly what Dave Flemming had feared. Sheriff Davis had asked him to “voluntarily” stop by his office for questioning, claiming this matter couldn’t wait until after Christmas. He’d emphasized the word voluntarily, as if to suggest that if Dave didn’t come of his own accord, he’d be obliged to send a deputy to escort him.

“You’re going to go, aren’t you?” Emily asked, standing next to him in the kitchen.

Dave still held the telephone receiver in his hand. “I don’t think I have a choice.”

His wife regarded him with wide, worried eyes. “Maybe we should have an attorney present.”

Instinct told Dave that he should. “Attorneys cost money. We can’t afford one.”

“We can’t afford not to have one,” Emily insisted. “If there’s any possibility that Sheriff Davis will arrest you, then…” She stopped abruptly.

“I didn’t steal anything from Martha Evans,” he said. He knew Emily believed him, but he couldn’t resist defending himself. “The truth will set everything right.”

“Don’t you ever watch crime shows?” His wife flared. “The police don’t care if you’re innocent. They just want a conviction.”

“Emily.” That might be true in the land of television, but it wasn’t the case in Cedar Cove. Sheriff Davis was an honorable man who cared far more about justice than his conviction record.

“I could sell something.” Emily twisted her wedding band around her ring finger. “I could go to a pawnshop—”

“I refuse to even discuss it.”

“What about Roy McAfee?” Emily suggested next, sounding panicky. “Since we’re already paying him, maybe—”

“I offered to pay him but he wouldn’t accept.”

Emily wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Dave, listen to reason, would you? If you go to jail—”

“That’s not going to happen.” He sounded confident but he had little to base that on. Just his own innocence and Roy McAfee’s apparent belief that he hadn’t stolen from Martha Evans’s estate. Roy had mentioned another suspect but that was days ago, so Dave assumed nothing had come of it. If the sheriff did decide to arrest him, then and only then would he have Emily hire an attorney.