92 Pacific Boulevard. Debbie Macomber
distressing of all was what they’d done to the family photos displayed along the fireplace mantel. Shocked, Faith covered her mouth with both hands.
“This has to be personal,” Troy muttered. He reached for the picture of Scott and his wife and children. Each face had an X through it, drawn in bright red ink. The photo of Faith’s daughter, Jay Lynn, and her family, had received the same treatment. But a photograph of her late husband, Carl, had come in for the most brutal destruction. His image had been utterly blotted out.
“Who would do such a thing?” Faith cried.
“Have you argued with anyone lately?” Troy asked.
That was basically the same question Deputy Weaver had asked and the answer hadn’t changed. “No …”
“Think, Faith,” Troy insisted. “Whoever’s responsible for this—and it could be more than one person—is trying to hurt you.”
“In that case,” she snapped, “they’ve succeeded.”
“I’m so sorry this happened.” Troy’s words were gentle, kind. For a moment it looked as if he wanted to take her in his arms.
Weak and vulnerable as she felt just then, Faith would gladly have slipped into his embrace. She would’ve welcomed the comfort he offered, the reassurance that, in his arms, she was safe and secure.
Thankfully he remembered that they weren’t a couple anymore, and that his touch was no longer appropriate. He dropped his arm and took a small step in retreat.
“What about the bedroom?” Faith asked in an effort to disguise the uncertainty of her resolve.
“You sure you’re up to this?” Troy asked.
Would anyone be? “I … I’ll need to face it sooner or later.”
“True.” Again he led the way.
They were forced to step over drawers that had been dragged into the hallway, over chair cushions and books and lamps—and what appeared to be every piece of clothing she owned. It seemed as though the contents of her entire home had been emptied in the hallway.
When she saw her bedroom and the chaos there, tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t stand to look at any more. With a sob, she turned and hurried out of the room.
Anger surged through her. She couldn’t imagine who’d done this. Whoever it was wanted to disrupt the peace and serenity she’d worked so hard to achieve since moving to Cedar Cove.
“Can you tell if anything’s been taken?” Troy asked. She suspected he was trying to distract her from all the wreckage.
She walked into the living room and took several deep breaths. “No… not yet.” The knowledge that this might be more than vandalism upset her all over again. Whoever had broken in had probably taken whatever valuables they could find.
Why target her? Faith didn’t own more than a few pieces of expensive jewelry, some of which she was wearing. The other pieces—her wedding band and the pearls that had been her mother’s—were tucked away in a safety-deposit box at the bank.
“Is anything obvious missing?” he continued.
She shook her head.
“First thing I want you to do is get a new lock,” Troy said, examining the front door. “Make it a dead bolt. Consider an alarm system, too.”
“I’ll look into it.” His suggestion kept her from dwelling on what had happened, but not for long.
“My family,” she whispered. She stared at the photographs of her children and grandchildren. “Are they safe?”
Troy shrugged uncomfortably. “My guess is this is a scare tactic.”
“But why?”
Troy’s face creased in a dark frown. “I can’t answer that. I wish I could tell you, but I can’t.”
“I want to know why …“
“I do, too,” he said, “and I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to find whoever’s responsible.”
That was fine, but Faith’s biggest concern remained her family. “Why would anyone cross out their faces? I won’t be able to sleep at night if there’s any chance my grandchildren might be at risk… . It’s all because of me,” she said in a rush. “What could I have possibly done to deserve this?”
Troy took her by the shoulders and his hold was all that kept her from collapsing.
“Faith, listen,” he said, sounding stern and official. “Everything’s going to be all right. I’ll schedule patrol cars to drive past your place and Scott’s, too. I don’t want you to worry, understand?”
It was almost more than she could do to nod in simple acknowledgment.
“Mom!” She heard Scott’s voice coming from the front porch.
When she didn’t immediately answer, Troy spoke on her behalf. “We’re inside the house,” he called out. Releasing her, he moved toward the door and opened it.
Scott charged into the house and did a double take. He was struck silent, his eyes wide with shock and dismay. Once he’d recovered, he turned to Troy to supply answers, the same way Faith had moments earlier.
Faith reached out to her son. She was close to both her children and her grandchildren, too, but refused to be a burden to them. Her independence meant everything, and she was determined to preserve it. After Carl’s death, she’d adjusted to being a widow, rambling around that large Seattle house on her own. Now she’d come back to Cedar Cove, but as much as possible, she still took care of whatever needed attention without calling her children for assistance.
So far she’d managed well, but this … this monster who’d invaded her home had overturned more than her furniture, he’d unsettled her entire world and destroyed her peace of mind.
“Deputy Weaver’s talking to the neighbors,” Troy said. “I’ll check with him and see if he has any information.”
“Whoever did this came through the front door?” Scott asked incredulously. He slid one arm around Faith’s shoulders. She was grateful for his support.
“It appears that way,” Troy answered.
“In broad daylight? Wasn’t anyone on the street home?”
Faith looked up. “The Vesseys are in Arizona for the winter and … and—” she faltered a bit “—everyone else on the block is either at work or at school.”
“Will you be okay?” Troy asked, his eyes revealing his reluctance to leave. But now that Scott had arrived, there was no reason for him to stay. He’d done his duty. No, he’d gone above and beyond anything duty required.
Calling on all her strength—and an acting ability she hadn’t known she possessed—Faith reassured him with a smile. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, Troy. It … it meant a great deal that you came yourself.”
He touched the brim of his hat and, with a nod in Scott’s direction, turned and walked out the door.
Three
Olivia Griffin spooned up the last of her soup and set the empty bowl in the kitchen sink. The homemade tomato basil was one of her favorites and her mother made sure she had an abundant supply every week. Jack would be pleased that she’d finished her lunch. She’d received her first chemotherapy treatment the previous week and it had gone better than she’d expected.
But then her expectations hadn’t been optimistic. When she was diagnosed with breast cancer a few months before, Olivia had been afraid her life was almost over. To say the news had shocked her was putting it mildly. She’d always eaten properly, exercised regularly and taken all the recommended vitamins.
The