92 Pacific Boulevard - Debbie Macomber [91]
He stood in front of the house, recalling the morning he’d come to talk to Grace Sherman.
Dan had disappeared and at that point no one knew the tragic truth—that his lifelong depression over an incident in Vietnam had driven him to suicide. Troy had vivid memories of that visit and the one a year later, when he’d come to bring Grace the news that Dan’s body had been found.
Sandy had been alive when Dan Sherman went missing. Troy had told her about the case. She’d lost much of her ability to communicate verbally by then, but her expressive eyes had revealed her sympathy for Grace.
Troy sighed. He was surprised by how often he thought of Sandy. He wished he could talk to her now. She’d always been a good listener and while it might seem odd that he’d want to discuss his feelings for another woman with her, he sensed that if Sandy had known Faith, they would’ve been friends.
Catching him off guard, the front door opened and Faith stepped onto the porch, standing in the afternoon drizzle. Spring had officially begun a week ago, and as the old saying went, March showers brought April flowers. Or was it April showers that brought May flowers? In either case, it was still a winter sky, bleak and gray, although the days were noticeably longer.
“Troy,” Faith called, her arms crossed protectively over her chest, “what are you doing here?”
Grinning, Troy walked up the pathway to the house. “Just checking to make sure you’re safe and sound.”
“I have a feeling you check on me quite a bit.”
Troy didn’t deny it. It’d become habit to drive by at least once a day and sometimes more often, although he didn’t want Faith to know how often. “I keep turning up like a bad penny, right?”
Faith smiled, and her lovely face seemed even lovelier. “Do you feel like a cup of decaf coffee?”
One thing he wouldn’t do, and that was refuse to spend time with Faith. He loved her. He knew she loved him, too. For the most part they’d worked out their differences but the situation between them remained tentative. Although they’d known each other practically their entire lives, the setbacks of the past year had nearly destroyed any promise of a lasting relationship.
He followed Faith into the house and saw that she’d been knitting. The television was on the twenty-fourhour news channel, and the aroma of cooking wafted toward him. Whatever it was smelled delicious.
He took a seat and Faith brought him a mug. “There’s something on your mind,” she said matter-offactly. “But I know that whatever it is doesn’t have anything to do with me.“
She was right on both counts, and her ability to read him so easily reminded him of Sandy. Despite his lawman’s poker face, Sandy could always tell when he was disturbed by a case, and now it seemed Faith shared that trait.
She sat across from him. “Can you talk about it?” she asked.
He shook his head. This was information he couldn’t share. A visit from Charlotte Rhodes earlier that afternoon had most likely given him the solution to one of his most difficult outstanding cases. Even now, Troy wasn’t sure how to handle the situation, especially since it involved someone he knew well.
“I wish I could…but I can’t.“
“It doesn’t matter,” Faith said in that soothing way of hers.
He held his coffee with both hands, letting the heat chase away the chill of late afternoon. “How’d you know something was on my mind?” he asked curiously.
Faith picked up her knitting and gazed into the flickering light of the fireplace. “I’m not sure.“
Troy stared into his coffee. “That’s not true, Faith.“
She laughed. “How do you know?“
“Touché.” It would be so easy to sit with Faith for