“True, but—”
“I think I made the right assumption,” she said, close to tears. That was why she hadn’t read ahead in the diary. Because she knew. Deep down, she knew. This must be why Joan had hidden his love letters. It was too painful for her to see them.
“We’re just guessing here,” Mack reminded her.
“But how can we find out?” she asked.
Mack looked perplexed. “I don’t know, but I’ll work on it.”
“Maybe there’s a record of all the men buried in France.” Mary Jo had seen pictures of acre upon acre of white crosses on the rolling hills of Normandy. If Jacob had died in France, there was a good chance he’d been buried there.
“I’ll try to get that information,” Mack said. “We might also discover he’s not there.”
He seemed so optimistic, so eager to believe Jacob had survived the invasion.
“He might’ve been wounded,” Mary Jo said.
“Yeah. We wondered about that earlier, remember?”
She nodded. “Communication took a long time, so it could’ve been weeks before Joan learned what had happened to him.”
“Exactly,” Mack said.
She nodded, but the possibility that Jacob had never come back from the war was still very real to her.
Noelle began to cry, and before Mary Jo could reach for her, Mack stood and took her out of the infant seat.
“She’s teething,” Mary Jo said. “That’s why she’s been fussing lately. Plus it’s seven-thirty—time for bed.”
Mack rocked Noelle in his arms and soon the baby girl was smiling, drool dripping off her chin and onto her pink sleeper. “I should get her into her crib,” she said, feeling slightly guilty that she’d ignored her daughter this long, caught up in the drama of World War II.
“I’ll take care of the dishes,” he told her. They’d piled everything in the sink and on the counters.
Getting her brothers to help in the kitchen had always been a struggle, although they paid lip service to the concept of doing their share. Mack’s volunteering was a pleasant surprise.
“You don’t need to do that,” she said.
“Sure I do. My mom said if she cooked, she shouldn’t have to do the dishes. Dad agreed, so Linnette and I had kitchen duty every night.” He grinned wickedly. “Then Linnette and I left home, and Mom pointed out that the dishes had now become my dad’s responsibility.”
“Does he do them?”
“Every night,” Mack said. “In fact, I think he and Mom have fun doing them together. I’ve caught them more than once dancing to old rock ’n’ roll tunes.”
Mary Jo smiled. “Do you want me to put on some music?”
Mack smiled back. “Maybe later.”
By the time she’d finished getting Noelle changed and ready for bed, Mack had cleaned up the kitchen. He turned on the television to the nightly news, keeping the volume low, while she fed Noelle. Then he sat down next to her and, after a moment, put his arm around her shoulders. Mary Jo felt the warmth of his affection and she was convinced Noelle did, as well.
Her daughter fell asleep in her arms and Mary Jo was far too comfortable to move. She rested her head against Mack and sighed deeply. “I so badly want Jacob to have survived the war,” she whispered.
Mack kissed the top of her head. “Me, too.”
They sat there, quietly watching television for the next hour. When he left, Mary Jo settled Noelle carefully in her crib. She almost didn’t hear the gentle tap on her front door ten minutes later. When she opened it, Mack stood on the other side, the look on his face exultant.
“I went online as soon as I got home.”
Mary Jo’s heart leaped. “Jacob Dennison made it?”
“I can’t say for sure, but I do know he didn’t die in France. His name isn’t on the list of Americans buried there.”
“Then maybe he was injured, after all, and sent stateside,” Mary Jo said. That, too, might explain why Joan had ceased writing immediately after the Normandy invasion. Somehow, Mary Jo conjectured, she’d made her way to the hospital where Jacob was sent. She’d left everything behind and didn’t want her sister finding her diary. Then, after Jacob had healed, they’d gotten married and Joan had never gone back to retrieve her diary and the letters.
Mary Jo felt giddy with relief.
“There,” Mack said. “Aren’t you happy?”
“I’m ecstatic!”
“The last time you were this happy it was because I found the diary—and you kissed me.”
Mary Jo laughed at his broad hint, then leaned forward and threw her arms around his neck.
“That’s more like it,” Mack said just before he lowered his mouth to hers.
Thirteen
Roy McAfee glanced up from his computer screen as Corrie let herself into his office, closing the door behind her.
“Leonard Bellamy is here to see you,” she said, frowning.
Roy looked at his desk calendar.
“He doesn’t have an appointment,” Corrie said, confirming Roy’s assumption. “He asked to see you right away.” The last two words were stated with more than a hint of disapproval.
Roy already knew his wife wasn’t impressed with Bellamy. His family, probably the wealthiest in the area, owned half of downtown Bremerton and several large properties on Bainbridge Island. Roy knew they had several holdings in Cedar Cove, as well. He’d done work for the man before, mostly background checks on potential hires.
“I can see him.” Roy was admittedly curious—it wasn’t every day Leonard Bellamy stopped by for a chat.
“He didn’t make an appointment,” Corrie reminded him.
“That’s okay. I’m available,” Roy said. Corrie was well aware that not everyone scheduled appointments with him; he always had a certain number of walk-ins. He wasn’t going to hold that against Bellamy, even if his wife did. Leonard Bellamy paid his bills promptly.
The last case Roy had worked on for Bellamy had concerned an employee who’d filed for workers’ compensation, claiming that due to a serious back injury, he was unable to continue in his current position. Having suffered from back ailments himself, Roy was in full sympathy with the employee—until he caught him training to climb Mount Rainier hefting a fifty-pound knapsack. Leonard had paid Roy a handsome bonus at the end of that investigation.
“He comes in without an appointment and just assumes you’ll see him because he’s the great and mighty Leonard Bellamy,” Corrie muttered. “In my opinion, he’s arrogant and demanding and a jerk.”
“Show him in, Corrie,” Roy said pointedly.
“I will, but I don’t like him taking advantage of you.”
He didn’t bother to defend Bellamy, since Corrie’s dislike of him made her unwilling to listen.
A minute later she escorted Leonard Bellamy into Roy’s office. Roy stood and the two men exchanged perfunctory handshakes.
“Good morning,” Roy said, and waited until the other man had taken the upholstered chair across from him before sitting down again. “What can I do for you?” he asked. He was a busy man and so was Bellamy. They didn’t need to waste time with further chitchat.
“I believe you’ve met my daughter, Lori.”
Roy wasn’t sure he had. “I’m afraid I don’t recall.”
“But you know I have two daughters, correct?”
“Yes.” And a son. Older than the girls. Both Robert and Denise worked with their father.
“You may remember that Lori was engaged to…to that felon Geoff Duncan.”
Roy knew the Duncan case well. Geoff had worked for attorney Allan Harris as his legal assistant. Harris had been handling Martha Evans’s estate when several pieces of expensive jewelry went missing. All the evidence suggested that Dave Flemming, a local pastor, had been responsible for the theft. Sheriff Troy Davis and Roy had solved the case together. In a systematic search of pawnshops, Roy had come across one where Geoff had left a piece of the jewelry.
Geoff
had accepted a plea bargain and was now serving a prison sentence.
“I do remember that Duncan was engaged at the time,” Roy said.
Bellamy sighed loudly. “I swear that girl doesn’t have the sense God gave a duck. You’d think she’d have better judgment, but Geoff managed to convince her that he was madly in love with her and the two of them were meant to be together. I had my suspicions the minute we met. The man was a con artist of the first order. He didn’t love Lori. It was blatantly obvious he was after her money.” He shook his head. “I have to admit he grew on me after a while—that con-artist-charmer type, you know. But I should’ve gone with my gut instinct.”
Roy didn’t respond, although he had his own opinion on the matter. He’d seen Geoff Duncan as an unfortunate case. The young man had gotten in over his head financially, trying to impress the Bellamys, and when his money situation became precarious, he’d stolen the jewelry. Roy didn’t believe Geoff Duncan was a career criminal—just irresponsible and desperate to make a good impression on his fiancée and future in-laws. His plan had backfired, and the man seemed genuinely repentant when confronted with the truth.
“I hate to say this, but my daughter isn’t the brightest girl you could hope to meet.” Bellamy sat back in the chair and crossed his legs. “I’m afraid she’s jumped directly from the frying pan into the fire with this latest stunt of hers.”
Roy had perfected his poker face years ago and was able to conceal his aversion to the way Bellamy spoke about his daughter.
“How do you mean?” he asked in a mild voice.
The question was ignored. “Did I mention she works at a dress shop? My daughter in a dress shop. Three years of college and she drops out because she’s got some fantasy about becoming a designer. This friend of my wife’s owns a dress shop and hired her. If Lori wanted to quit school and find a job, I could’ve given her one. When I offered, you know what she said?”
Roy wasn’t allowed to answer.
“‘No, thank you, Daddy,’” he said in a falsetto voice. “‘I’d rather work with Brenda.’” He closed his eyes, apparently overcome with frustration.
“You want me to check out her employer?” Roy asked, figuring this must be what he had in mind.
“No,” he barked, then cast Roy an apologetic look. “I’m afraid Lori’s done something to top all the other foolish decisions she’s made in the past few years.”
“And what is that?” Roy asked.
Bellamy clenched his hands until his knuckles went white. “She married a man she barely knows.”
“I see,” Roy said thoughtfully.
“From what I understand, she met this man and married him within a month. Perhaps less. I don’t know if my wife got the story straight. As you can imagine, Kate was more than a little upset.” He blew out a sigh, and his shoulders slumped. “Naturally Lori tried to keep it a secret from us. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Kate’s friend Brenda—the one who owns the shop—let it slip, heaven knows how long it would’ve taken us to find out. When I talked to Lori after Kate told me, the girl didn’t bother to deny it. She admitted she’d married this man—as if getting married is something you do on a whim. My wife was mortified that a friend had to be the one to tell her our daughter has a husband.”
Roy could empathize with their shock. Knowing what he did about the family, Roy suspected the Bellamys would have expected to throw a huge wedding. Not only had she eloped, but she’d deprived them of putting on the event of the year.
“You can imagine how upset Kate is about this,” he said again.
“You obviously are, too,” Roy murmured.
“Can you blame me?”
“Not really.” Roy did understand his feelings—to a degree—because he’d experienced something similar. Linnette had recently surprised him and Corrie with her news. Marrying Pete Mason without a word to family until the deed was done had been a shock to them, too. However, they’d met and liked Pete. Roy considered himself a good judge of character, and he trusted the man. Pete was a decent, hardworking farmer, and their daughter loved him. The fact that Linnette was about to make them grandparents only sweetened the deal.
“It gives me no pleasure to come to you with this,” Leonard continued. “I want you to find out whatever you can about this man who manipulated my daughter into marriage.”
“I can do a background search for you.”
“Dig up everything there is,” he said, his face growing red. “This man is a parasite. I can feel it.”
“Do you have his name?”
“Oh, yes, and that’s another thing. Lori’s taken his name. She’s no longer Lori Bellamy but Lori Wyse. Not even Bellamy-Wyse.”
“Wyse?” Roy repeated slowly.
“Yes, like wise guy.” Bellamy smirked as he said it.
“Any relation to Mary Jo Wyse?”
Bellamy stared across the desk at him. “Don’t know who that is. Why?”
Roy picked up his pen and rolled it between his palms. “My son, Mack, is dating Mary Jo Wyse. She lives on the other side of his duplex. I seem to remember Mack mentioning that her brother’s moved into town.”
“You’ve met this Linc Wyse?”
Roy shook his head. “No, but I’ve met Mary Jo a number of times.”
“Well, Lori married Lincoln Wyse. Linc, for short.” He seemed to wait for Roy to respond.
“They might be related, which means it could be a conflict of interest for me to take this case.”
“Are you saying you can’t be objective?”
“No, I’m saying I know a relative or someone who might be a relative. I’d want you to be aware of that up front. Not telling you would be a breach of ethics.”
“Okay, I know it. Now find the dirt on this man.”
“Dirt?”
“He’s a money-grubbing thief, hoping to swindle my idiot daughter out of every penny she’s due to inherit.” He scowled. “Fact is, I’m tempted to cut her out of my will. Then we’ll see how long this so-called marriage lasts. It would serve her right, too. When can you start?”
Roy hesitated.
“Will you take the case or not?” Bellamy demanded.
“I’ll be happy to investigate Lincoln Wyse,” Roy said after a moment, “but with your full understanding that this man could very well be related to the woman my son is dating.”
“I already said I don’t care.” Bellamy waved off his concern. “How soon could you get me the information?”
“How soon do you want it?” Roy asked.
“Yesterday. I want this man out of my daughter’s life before she does something even more foolish and gets pregnant. I swear she’s determined to age her mother and me before our time. If it isn’t one thing with Lori, it’s another. The girl seems to do nothing but embarrass us. First it was Duncan and now she marries a stranger.”
“She does seem to have an impulsive nature,” Roy said carefully, still somewhat perturbed by the man’s contempt for his daughter.
Bellamy stood and again they exchanged handshakes. “I’ll wait to hear from you, then.”
“I’ll be in touch in a few weeks.”
The other man held his look. “Don’t spare the truth. I want it all, understand?”
“I’ll make sure I do a thorough search,” Roy promised.
“Good.”
With that, Bellamy was out the door, seemingly eager to escape. No sooner had he left the office than Corrie got up from her desk.
“What did he want this time?” she asked, her eyes narrow with suspicion. She stood in his doorway, her arms folded.
Okay, the guy was arrogant and demanding, but he wasn’t the first client who’d behaved that way. Roy didn’t know why his wife found Bellamy so objectionable. “He wants me to do a background check on someone.”
Corrie made a snorting sound.
“I realize you don’t like him.”
“I have a bad feeling about him,” she said. “A bad vibe, as we used to say.” She looke
d at him earnestly. “You’ve always been particular about the cases you accept. Even when I don’t like one of our clients, I’ve never expressed my opinion.”
Roy cocked his eyebrows.
“Fine. Maybe I have…occasionally. Bellamy pays his bills on time, which is good, but if it were up to me—and I know it isn’t—I’d steer clear of him.”
“Apparently his daughter eloped a few weeks ago and he’s afraid the young man married Lori for her money.” Roy stood and walked over to his wife’s side. “Lori married Lincoln Wyse. I think he might be Mary Jo’s brother.”
Frowning, Corrie met his eyes. “He is.”
“I told Bellamy that was possible and I said it might cause a conflict of interest, but he didn’t care. He wants me for the job.”
“I’ve met Lori and Linc,” she said, her frown deepening. “They’re a sweet couple. I refuse to believe Linc married her because she’s related to Leonard Bellamy.”
“I’ll find out soon enough,” Roy said.
Corrie returned to the front office and Roy sat down at his desk again. He was logging on to his computer to begin the search when Corrie came back. “I still don’t think you should take this case.”
“Really?” he said, leaning back in his chair. He linked his fingers behind his head and regarded his wife. “And why is that?”
Corrie seemed flustered. “He…he wants you to dig up something damaging. If you don’t, he’ll believe you didn’t do your job.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” she snapped.
Actually, it was. Roy suspected Bellamy was hoping Roy would come up with a divorce or two or perhaps a bankruptcy, just to prove to his daughter how wrong she was.
“I told him I’d take the job,” Roy said, and he was a man of his word.
“Then untell him.”
“I can’t do that.” If he accepted a job, then he intended to follow through—and he’d conduct his investigation with integrity. At the same time, he’d never seen his wife this adamant about a case.
“I had a feeling you were going to say that,” Corrie said with a deep sigh of resignation. “I hope you don’t regret this.”