74 Seaside Avenue (Cedar Cove #7)

74 Seaside Avenue (Cedar Cove #7) Page 42

Grace left soon after, first hugging him goodbye. He thanked her over and over for coming to the house, for giving them her support, for being Olivia’s friend.

When she got home, Grace immediately went looking for Cliff. She found him talking to Cal in the barn, but he broke off whatever he was saying as soon as he caught sight of her.

“I saw Olivia,” she rushed to tell him, fresh tears filling her eyes.

Cliff put his arm around her shoulders and they walked slowly back to the house. Once inside, she turned to him. “It’s cancer,” she said starkly.

He nodded grimly. “What’s the prognosis?”

“We won’t know until she sees the surgeon, and that won’t be until next week. We’ll find out more then.” Grace paused for a moment, her voice threatening to break. “She hasn’t told Charlotte or her children.”

Cliff urged her to sit down at the table and began preparing tea. Grace smiled, thanking him, and didn’t say that one more cup of tea was probably the last thing she needed.

She saw the envelope with the returned rent check on the table and sighed. Another concern to deal with, another problem to solve. It felt trivial compared to what Olivia was going through, but still…

Cliff glanced at the envelope, too. “Oh, I talked to Judy this afternoon.”

Grace knew the rental agent couldn’t be blamed. She herself had insisted Judy accept the Smiths as tenants despite their unsatisfactory references.

“Apparently, this isn’t the first time these people have done this.”

That didn’t come as any surprise to Grace.

“Judy talked to another agent from the Bremerton area,” Cliff continued. “She learned that this couple’s made quite the habit of bilking their landlords.”

“Could Judy tell you how long it would take to evict them?”

Cliff frowned. “People like this know how to work the system. She said it might take six months to get them out.”

“Six months!” Grace cried. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I agree.” He shrugged. “It’s pretty hopeless. They’ll exploit their rights as tenants and drag everything out until the bitter end.”

“That’s an outrage.”

“For now there isn’t anything we can do,” Cliff said, “except file eviction papers and play this out.”

She groaned, letting her head fall to the table.

He reached into a high cupboard and brought out a half-full bottle of bourbon. “There’s one thing we can do—substitute strong drink for weak tea.”

Despite herself, Grace smiled.

Thirty-Four

Teri could tell that something was bothering Rachel. The salon was humming with activity the way it always did on Fridays. But, busy or not, the two of them usually managed to arrange their schedules so they could have lunch together. At noon, Rachel claimed she simply wasn’t hungry.

“What do you mean, you’re not hungry?” Teri demanded. “Whatever’s bothering you must be big. Nothing takes away your appetite.”

Rachel didn’t even smile.

In spite of Teri’s efforts to get her to talk about her trip to Pittsburgh, Rachel had barely said a word. For that matter, she hadn’t mentioned Jolene or Bruce, either, which was highly unusual.

If Teri had her guess, what distressed her friend was her ongoing confusion about Nate and Bruce. Nate hadn’t made any secret of his intentions. And then there was Bruce.

Teri wanted to shake that man and tell him to take action, do something before he lost Rachel for good. If he did, it would be his own stupid fault. As for Rachel…Teri didn’t know what to think. She didn’t doubt that Rachel loved Nate, but—in Teri’s opinion—she loved Bruce more.

A few weeks ago, when Rachel phoned, rattled because Bruce had kissed her, she’d made it sound as though that was the first time it’d ever happened. News flash: Bruce had kissed her long before that night.

Although this last kiss—maybe there’d been more to it. Rachel had obviously been shocked. So, it appeared, was Bruce.

The only time she’d mentioned him was to tell Teri how angry he’d been when he picked her up from the airport. According to Rachel, he couldn’t dump her on her doorstep quickly enough.

At four, Teri had a perm, and because she was too busy watching Rachel and worrying about her, she got behind schedule. When James showed up at five-fifteen to drive her home, she had another half-hour left.

“I’ll wait,” James, the soul of patience, assured her. He glanced nervously around the salon. “Perhaps it would be best if I waited in the car. By the way, you might bring your umbrella when you come out. It’s really begun to storm.”

Rachel had finished for the night. “I’ll see everyone tomorrow,” she said, raising her hand in farewell as she started toward the door.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Teri called out.

Rachel shrugged. “Nothing much. Right now I have to pick up my car at the garage on Harbor Street

. I had the oil changed. Then I’m going home to soak in a hot bath.”

“James can take you,” Teri offered. No reason he couldn’t. All he’d be doing otherwise was sitting in the car—reading, no doubt. But it wouldn’t take him long to drop Rachel off and by the time he came back, Teri figured she’d be ready.

“No, that’s all right,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “The exercise will do me good.”

“But it’s raining out! Why get wet when James is here twiddling his thumbs? He can easily drive you.”

“It would be my pleasure, Miss Rachel,” James told her in that polite way of his.

Rachel gave him a smile. “Thank you. Then I accept.”

Teri walked out the door into the interior of the mall with her.

“I really appreciate this,” Rachel said. “You’re a good friend, Teri. The best I’ve got.”

She sounded so depressed, it was all Teri could do not to throw both arms around her. “Hey, if you need to talk or anything, just give me a call.”

Rachel smiled a little shakily. “Thank you, I will. Do you have plans for tonight?”

“Not really. Christie’s coming over this evening and we’re going to watch Grease.” It was a musical they’d loved when they were kids. They knew all the songs and planned to sing along. They’d have popcorn and then later on, some ice cream, the expensive kind. It would be a girls’ night in.

At the mention of her sister, James lowered his gaze. Their romance seemed to be at a standstill; something must’ve happened because Christie had insisted on driving over on her own.

“The weekend’s open, though,” Teri said.

“Okay. Let’s get together. I’ll phone you.”

“Please do,” Teri said, eager to help in any way she could. At the beginning of her relationship with Bobby, Rachel had been a wonderful confidante, discreet, sensible and encouraging. Teri wanted to do the same thing for her friend now. She looked over her shoulder and wished she had a few more minutes to talk. This was the first time all day that Rachel had opened up to her.

“I’ll call you in the morning,” Rachel said as she headed out the mall door to the parking lot.

Standing by the car, James had the umbrella ready. It was raining steadily now and almost dark.

Teri returned to the salon and finished Mrs. Dawson’s perm and waited for James.

And waited.

Thirty minutes passed, and he still wasn’t back. When she called Rachel’s cell, she immediately got voice mail. James didn’t answer his phone, either. She tried Rachel’s house. Same thing.

Unsure of what else to do, Teri called her sister. “Do you mind swinging by the salon for me?”

“Where’s James?” Christie immediately asked.

“I don’t know. He was going to run Rachel to the garage to get her car, but he hasn’t come back.”

“Did you try his cell?”

“He isn’t answering and neither is Rachel.”

Christie hesitated. “That’s a bit odd, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” More than odd. Definitely out of the ordinary—and even a little frightening. “Are you coming or not?” Teri asked. Otherwise she’d call one of the few cabs in town. Bobby was probably starting to worry.

“I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Thank you,” she said with a relieved sigh. Bobby wanted her to quit her job, and incidents like this didn’t help. She had no idea where James and Rachel had gone or why they weren’t answering their cell phones. There had to be a perfectly logical explanation, she told herself; she wasn’t going to stress over it.

Her sister drove up in her rattletrap of a car, the exhaust belching oil. Leaning across, she unlocked the passenger door and shoved it open. Teri leaped gratefully inside, damp from her short sprint to the car.

“Have you heard from James?” Christie asked before she’d said hello.

Teri hid a smile. “Not a word.”

“I’ll bet he’s at your place now,” Christie speculated. “He just forgot to come back for you.”

Teri didn’t believe that for a minute. James was a paragon of responsibility; he’d never shirk his duties. Despite her resolve not to worry, she was beginning to feel anxious.

Christie was unusually quiet on the ride home.

“Does he have the hots for her?” she blurted out as they approached the long driveway on Seaside Avenue

“What?”

“You know.”

“James for Rachel, you mean?”

“Who else do you think I’m talking about?” Christie asked irritably.

“No way.” If James was interested in anyone, Teri suspected it was her very own sister.

As soon as they pulled in, the front door flew open and Bobby rushed out into the cold, drenching rain. He practically yanked her from the car. Then he was holding her. Hard. His fists dug into the small of Teri’s back and his breathing was shallow and fast.

Something was drastically wrong. He’d been worried about her in the past, but he’d never done anything like this.

“Bobby! Bobby, what is it?”

By the time he let her go, they were both soaked to the skin, wet hair matted to their heads, rivulets of water running down their faces. He started babbling, the words frantic, incoherent.

Before he’d finished, the sheriff’s vehicle rolled into the driveway, lights flashing. Troy Davis stepped out, and the four of them went into the house together.

“So everything’s all right?” Troy said, looking at Teri. “You’re all right?”

“Of course I am. Did my husband contact you?” Really, this was too much, even for Bobby. She was only an hour late.

“Kidnapped,” Bobby said.

“What are you talking about?” Christie looked from one man to the other.

“He said he had you,” Bobby said, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and relief. “He didn’t say it, exactly, but he implied it.”

“Who?” Troy Davis asked sharply.