92 Pacific Boulevard - Debbie Macomber [2]
Sitting at his desk on this bleak January day, he let his mind wander as he sipped stale coffee. The department stuff was never good, no matter how recently it’d been brewed. As he sat there, he thought about Sandy, his wife of more than thirty years. She’d died last year of complications related to MS. Her death had left a gaping hole in his life. He’d often discussed his cases with her and had come to appreciate her insights. She usually had opinions, carefully considered ones, on what led people to commit the crimes that brought them to his attention.
Troy would’ve been interested in her views on one of his current cases. A couple of local teenagers had come upon skeletal remains in a cave not far from the road leading out of town. Partial results of the autopsy were finally in, but they raised more questions than they answered. Additional tests were forthcoming, and they might provide further information. He could only hope…Hard though it was to believe, the body had gone all this time without discovery, and no one seemed to know who it was.
Despite this perplexing—and very cold—case and, of course, the loss of his wife, Troy had reason to count his blessings. He had a comfortable life, good friends and his only child, Megan, was married to a fine young man. In fact, Troy couldn’t have chosen a better husband for his daughter had he handpicked Craig himself. In a few months, Megan would give birth to his first grandchild.
As far as finances went, Troy had no complaints. His house was paid off and so was his car. He enjoyed his work and had strong ties to the community.
And yet…he was miserable.
That misery could be attributed to one source.
Faith Beckwith.
Troy had reconnected with his high-school girlfriend, and almost before he realized what was happening, he’d fallen in love with her all over again.
Neither of them possessed an impulsive personality. They were adults; they’d known what they wanted and what they were doing.
Then the relationship that had seemed so promising had come to a sudden end—thanks to his daughter’s reaction and to some undeniably bad judgment on Troy’s part.
When Megan learned he was dating again so soon after her mother’s death, she’d been very upset. Troy understood his daughter’s feelings. It had only been a few months since they’d buried Sandy; however, Sandy had been ill for years, and in some ways, their farewells had been said long before. But the fact that Troy had hidden his relationship with Faith from his daughter had contributed significantly to the whole mess.
On the very evening Troy had planned to ask Faith to marry him, Megan had miscarried her first pregnancy. As luck would have it, Troy, who’d been with Faith, had turned off his cell phone.
His guilt had been overwhelming. The baby had meant everything to Megan and Craig, especially so soon after Sandy’s death.
In retrospect Troy saw that he’d completely mishandled the situation. Immediately after Megan’s miscarriage he’d broken off the relationship with Faith. He’d acted out of remorse but he hadn’t taken Faith’s feelings into account; her shock and pain haunted him to this day.
He’d dedicated himself to his daughter and her needs ever since. That didn’t mean he’d stopped thinking about Faith—far from it. Thoughts of her filled his every waking moment.
To complicate this already complicated situation, Faith had sold her Seattle home and moved to Cedar Cove to be closer to her son, Scott—and to Troy. Seeing her around town these days was torture. Faith had made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him. Troy didn’t blame her.
“I have that missing-persons file for you, Sheriff.” Cody Woodchase stepped into his office and set the folder in Troy’s in-basket.
“Thanks,” Troy murmured. “You checked the appropriate dates?”
Cody nodded, dutifully efficient. “And came up blank. The only major case I can personally recall was Daniel Sherman a few years back.”
Troy was well