92 Pacific Boulevard - Debbie Macomber [93]
When he ended the kiss, he pressed his chin against her hair and breathed in her perfume, wondering when he’d see her again. Or would he have to find another convenient excuse to visit?
Ten minutes later Troy pulled into his own driveway. He couldn’t remember a single detail of the ride between Faith’s house on Rosewood Lane and his own place at 92 Pacific Boulevard. His conversation with Charlotte Rhodes that afternoon weighed heavily on his mind. He needed time to consider the information she’d given him, to think it through.
As Troy stepped out of his car, he realized there was a second vehicle parked outside his house. The doors opened and two men emerged. Because it was dark and the porch light dim, Troy couldn’t immediately identify them. Then he recognized one as the mayor; the other was his brother, the attorney.
“Louie,” Troy said, extending his hand to the mayor. “Otto.“
“I want you to know,” Otto said gruffly, “as my brother’s attorney, I advised him against this, but he insisted.“
Troy nodded. “Would you like to go down to the station?” he asked the mayor.
“No.”
Louie was pale, and sweat had broken out on his forehead.
“I want to talk to you,” Louie said. “Privately.“
Troy hesitated. “We’ve known each other a long time. If you’re asking me to—“
“My brother hasn’t admitted to any wrongdoing.”
“Otto,” Louie barked. “Just let me tell him. If he needs to arrest me, then so be it. I’m not asking for any personal favors.” He looked directly at Troy. “I’d prefer to talk here, if that’s all right. If you want me to repeat what I tell you over at the station, then I will.“
“Agreed.” Troy showed them into the chilly house, switched on the lights and turned up the heat, then gestured for the two men to sit down.
Louie perched on the edge of the sofa; Otto sat next to him, his back straight, his expression guarded.
“I’m not sure where to start,” the mayor said, glancing up at Troy. His hands dangled between his parted knees.
“You saw Charlotte Rhodes stop by my office earlier this afternoon, didn’t you?”
“No,” Louie said starkly. “She came to see me afterward and suggested I speak to you.” He gave a long sigh. “I figured it was either come to you and tell my story or wait for you to seek me out. I’d rather clear this up once and for all. I don’t want it hanging over my head anymore.”
“My brother can’t be held responsible—”
Louie raised a hand to silence his brother. “I’ll do the talking. I appreciate that you’re here, Otto, but I’m going to do it my own way.”
“I—”
Again Louie silenced his brother, this time with a look.
Troy settled back and waited.
“I married my first wife while I was in college,” Louie said.
Troy didn’t know the mayor had been married more than once. Donna had been Louie’s wife for as long as he could recall.
“My marriage to Beverly wasn’t good,” Louie told him. “My wife had…medical problems.”
“What my brother’s trying to say,” Otto cut in, “is that Beverly had emotional problems. Or, more accurately, psychiatric ones.”
“She was agoraphobic,” Louie said as if his brother hadn’t spoken. “In the beginning, everything seemed fine. Beverly was shy and she didn’t like being around a lot of people but that didn’t bother me. After we were married I realized this tendency of hers was more than simple aversion. To be fair, we had a few good months together.” Louie paused, sighing, before he went on. “I was about to graduate from college and we decided it was time to start our family.”
“That’s when the trouble began,” Otto said. “And—”
Louie cast his brother another quelling look and Otto didn’t complete the sentence.
“As I was saying,” Louie continued, “Beverly got pregnant easily enough but miscarried in the third month. Losing the pregnancy devastated her.”
Troy remembered how hard Sandy’s miscarriage had been on both of them, and more recently, how painful the loss of Megan’s baby had been. He nodded sympathetically.
“Afterward she withdrew completely.