Jack and Olivia Griffin stood at the front door, looking relaxed and very much in love. Jack had his arm around Olivia's waist as if he couldn't bear to be apart from her.

"Welcome back," Bob said, stepping aside to let them in. "You both look fabulous."

"We are fabulous," Jack said, smiling down at Olivia.

Bob had to admit they made an interesting couple. Jack was by far the more easygoing of the two. Olivia held an important position in the community, so perhaps it was only natural that she'd be more formal. Yet they were good together, good for each other in the same way he and Peggy were.

"Welcome," Peggy said as she walked into the living room. "I hope you had a wonderful honeymoon." Jack came forward to kiss her cheek.

"We did," Olivia told her, smiling. "Unfortunately, we have to be back at work first thing in the morning."

"I've got to get out the Friday edition of the paper," Jack said, "and Olivia's due in court."

"I was lucky to get as much time off as I did," she added.

Peggy hung Olivia's jacket in the hall closet. Jack shrugged off his raincoat and threw it over the back of a chair.

"Are we early?" he asked, glancing at his watch.

"Not at all, your timing's perfect." Peggy scooped up his coat and quickly brought it to the closet. "I've got just a few things to do and then dinner will be on the table."

"How can I help?" Olivia asked as she followed Peggy into the kitchen.

"Most everything's finished, but you can keep me company."

Bob was grateful for a few minutes alone with his friend. Rather than lead Jack into the family room, he stayed in the formal living room. The last time he'd sat here had been with Roy McAfee and Sheriff Davis. That was the day he'd met Hannah Russell, the daughter of the man who'd died in his home. The daughter of a long-forgotten friend. Bob didn't want to think about any of it, but he couldn't ignore the dead man, either.

"You're looking well," Bob said. He sat in the wingback chair by the fireplace.

Jack claimed its twin, which was angled on the other side of the fireplace. "I don't know why Olivia waited so long to marry me. The woman's crazy about me, you know." He chuckled at his own remark.

"I suppose you think Peggy and I invited you to dinner because of your charming personality."

"Any other reason I should hear about?"

Bob went very still. He hadn't meant to introduce the subject quite so soon, but Jack had given him the perfect opportunity. "Listen, Jack, you're the best friend I've got. You know that, right?"

The smile faded from Jack's eyes at the seriousness in Bob's tone. "Yeah, I guess."

"I need a favor."

Jack nodded. "Anything."

"Thanks, Jack." Bob spoke quietly and hoped his gratitude was evident.

"Does this have anything to do with Maxwell Russell?"

"Yes."

"Anything new?"

"Not really, but Troy Davis stopped by for a visit last week, and he thinks I might be in...some kind of danger."

Jack uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. "What kind of danger?"

"He wasn't entirely sure—no one is—but with two of the' four-man squad dead, it's a puzzle. Someone murdered Max. That much has been uncovered. Dan's dead, too, and although he committed suicide, I wonder about the timing. There has to be some connection between these two deaths."

"What about the fourth man?"

"I can't say, but when Peggy was out of earshot Troy let me know that he's warned Samuels to be careful. There are too many unanswered questions."

Jack frowned. "What did he suggest you do?"

"He thought it might be a good idea if Peggy and I went on an extended vacation."

Jack's frown grew deeper. "Then what the hell are you doing here?"

Bob sat back in his chair and attempted to look as if he wasn't intimidated by his situation. He was, though, and he hoped his acting skills were up to par. He figured he'd played enough roles in the community theater to make a passable showing. "I refuse to run away and hide. If anyone out there wants me dead, then all I can say is let him come and get me."

"I don't suppose Davis mentioned you have a stupid attitude?" Jack's scowl darkened his face.

"He might've suggested something along those lines."

Jack didn't say anything for a moment. "What does Peggy think about all this?"

Bob didn't want to discuss that. "She has her opinion and I have mine. I did agree not to take guests until this is settled. It hurts financially, but we'll survive."

"One day at a time?"

"Let go and let God," Bob said, quoting a well-known AA saying.

"What can I do?" Jack asked.

"For now, nothing, but if something should happen to me..."

"Nothing's going to happen."

Bob wasn't prepared to argue, but for his own peace of mind, he needed reassurance. He held up his hand. "I don't know what the future holds, Jack. If what Davis thinks is true, I could turn up dead, the same as Max."

"But—"

"There are a lot of things in this world that can't be forgotten or forgiven." Bob lived with plenty of regrets but none greater than his unwitting participation in a massacre during the Vietnam War.

"What do you need me to do?" Jack asked.

"I want you to look after Peggy for me." He worried about his children, too. Both Hollie and Marc lived in the Spokane area. Peggy kept in close touch with both of them, and he talked to his son and daughter once a week.

"You know I'll do whatever I can," Jack promised.

If he were to die, Bob couldn't see either of his children moving to Cedar Cove. They loved their mother but they had lives of their own.

He reached inside his pocket and pulled out two envelopes. "I've written each of my kids a letter. If the worst happens, I want you to give them these."

Jack accepted the envelopes and nodded. "Consider it done."

Bob glanced up just in time to see Peggy and Olivia walk into the living room. "Why are you two sitting here looking so glum? Dinner's ready."

"Dinner." Bob bolted to his feet. "Why didn't you say so?"

"I'm ready anytime," Jack said.

Bob felt better than he had in days. No matter what happened, he could rest easy now.

Seven

Maryellen felt overwhelmed by everything she needed to do before the wedding. The last two weeks had passed in a whirlwind of activity and joyous craziness.

"Just look at these nails," Rachel, her nail tech, said as she picked up a cotton ball to remove the old polish. "What have you been up to?"

"Moving," Maryellen muttered, knowing that would explain everything. Her rental house was completely empty now and her belongings were all at Jon's place, but almost everything remained in boxes. With the wedding preparations demanding all her extra time, she had yet to unpack.

"So when's the big day?"

"Monday," Maryellen said.

"Memorial Day?"

She nodded.

"That's one way to help your husband keep track of your anniversary," Rachel said with a laugh. Apparently she'd forgotten that the actual date changed from year to year. "In my case, however, the first thing I've got to do is find a husband." The exasperation in her sigh said it all. For as long as Maryellen could remember, Rachel had wanted to get married. All the women at Get Nailed were single and, during each appointment, Maryellen could count on the main topic of conversation revolving around the lack of decent husband material in Cedar Cove.

"Did you hear the big news?" Rachel asked, rubbing furiously at the old polish.

Maryellen shook her head.

"The animal shelter's holding a dog and bachelor auction."

"With some men, it's one and the same," Terri shouted from the other side of the room. "The men I've dated have been real dogs." She laughed at her own joke, then returned her attention to her client.

Even before Maryellen's engagement, such an event would never have interested her, but she knew the girls at Get Nailed would leap at the opportunity to meet eligible men.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard about the auction. Everyone in town's talking about it."

"Just as long as everyone knows Jon is out of circulation," Maryellen teased.

"Honey, from the moment Jon Bowman looked at you, he was a goner."

Maryellen grinned. At one point—during her avoidance phase—she'd attempted to match Jon up with one of the nail techs. Her plan had backfired and as a result, Maryellen had come to realize how strong the attraction between them was. Then, a few months ago, she'd managed to convince herself that Jon was involved with someone else. The thought of him with another woman had nearly destroyed her. Only later did she learn that he was completely committed to her and Katie.

"Are you excited about the wedding?"

Right now, Maryellen was too tired to be excited. With their jobs, they'd both been working twenty-hour days in an effort to have the house and yard ready for the ceremony. Jon had spent countless hours doing yardwork and planning the reception. Thankfully the guest list was small, under thirty.

Friday was his last day at The Lighthouse Restaurant, where he worked nights as a chef. He was ready to make the transition and dedicate all his time to photography. Maryellen would continue working at the art gallery until the end of the year—or until she became pregnant again. After that, she'd serve as Jon's agent, marketing his pictures and negotiating with galleries around the country.

The thought of a second baby made her feel weak with longing. They'd managed to avoid physical lovemaking, but it had been a strain on both of them. Still, she felt that waiting until they were married was the right decision—for emotional reasons rather than rational ones—although she'd never guessed it would be this difficult.

As soon as Rachel was finished with her nails, Maryellen drove to her mother's house to pick up Katie.

"Leave her with me," Grace insisted. "You've got enough on your mind."

"You're sure?"

"I love having her."

Maryellen and Katie were staying with Grace for the next two nights. "Then I think I should drive out to Jon's and see what I can do to help him get things ready."

"You go ahead."

Maryellen left, grateful her mother had been so understanding. Just as she suspected, Jon was working in the yard, spreading beauty bark around the base of the rhododendrons and azaleas. Both were in full bloom and shockingly vibrant in color. Jon had counted over a hundred blooming rhododendrons on his property. Of them all, Maryellen's favorites were the bright red ones.

When she pulled in the long gravel driveway, Jon walked over to the car and opened her door. "I came to help," she said and although she was tempted, she resisted wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing him.

"I thought you were getting your nails done?"

"1 already did." She held out her hands for his inspection. The pale rose polish sparkled in the sunlight. "What can I do?"

"Nothing out here. I wouldn't want you to risk damaging one of those fingernails." He leaned on the shovel. "Why don't you unpack? I've got boxes shoved in every conceivable corner."