Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3)

Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3) Page 30

“Did my brother ever say anything about my father?”

Patricia blinked as though the question took her by surprise. “Like what?”

“Well,” she said, then exhaled slowly. “Did he ever say anything that might lead you to believe my dad wasn’t the upstanding citizen everyone thought he was?”

“Never.” Patricia sounded shocked. “Your father was a judge.”

“He wasn’t perfect. He had flaws like everyone else.” Because she felt she needed to explain further, she said, “I’m going through my father’s things, and I’m learning a lot about my family—stuff I never knew. If you remember anything, it might help me connect all the pieces.” Of one thing she was certain; her brother would never have condoned paying off Jake’s family. He would’ve been as outraged as she was.

Patricia’s face went blank and she slowly shook her head. “Your brother never said a word to me about your father.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice. She’d hoped Patricia would have some answers to give her.

She finished her lemonade and set the glass down. “I’d better go and do some packing,” she said, getting to her feet. “Thank you so much for seeing me.”

Patricia stood, too. “I was happy to do it.”

She walked Susannah to her car. “Listen,” she said. “If you do find out who left those flowers at Doug’s grave, would you mind letting me know? I’d be curious to learn who it was.”

“I’ll do that,” Susannah promised and shut the door.

On the drive back to the house, she decided to stop at Safeway, since she needed a few groceries and didn’t want to make a special trip later.

Walking into the store she felt someone staring at her and turned to find Sharon Nance, Troy’s mother and her former classmate, a few feet behind her. The woman looked at least sixty. There was a hardness about her, evident in the wrinkled overtanned skin and heavily made-up eyes. She wore a short jean skirt that rode halfway up her thighs and a thin, purple sweater with lots of gold chains around her neck. She was smoking a cigarette.

“Hello, Sharon,” Susannah said cordially.

“Well, if it isn’t Susannah Leary.” Sharon tossed her cigarette on the asphalt and crushed it with the toe of her flip-flops.

“It’s Nelson now.”

“Oh, right,” she said in a bored tone.

“Your son and my daughter seem to have hit if off,” Susannah said, not letting on how much she disapproved of the relationship.

Sharon’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that right?”

Apparently Sharon didn’t know, and Susannah was sorry she’d said anything. She nodded and as they neared the front of the store, she reached for a grocery cart.

“What are you doing in town?” Sharon asked, taking the next cart.

Rather than going into a long explanation, Susannah merely said she’d come back to move her mother.

“Really?” Sharon said with a sarcastic edge. “I thought maybe you were here ’cause of Jake. I saw Yvette the other day, and she told me you’re thinking of looking for him. She figured I might know where he is.”

Susannah didn’t take the bait. “The subject of Jake did come up,” she said, playing it low-key. And wouldn’t Sharon love to know she’d actually paid a P.I. to find him?

“He came back to me, you know.” She shoved the cart alongside Susannah’s. “After you left for that hoity-toity French boarding school, he wanted to get back together with me.”

Susannah let that comment slide and headed toward the produce aisle. She didn’t trust Sharon for a minute.

“Can’t say I blame him,” Sharon added, following close behind her. She carelessly tossed a small iceberg lettuce into her cart. “I was here and you…weren’t.” She emphasized the last word.

“And I’ll just bet you were available, too.” Susannah didn’t bother to disguise her scorn.

Sharon laughed. “I always knew he’d come back to me. You were fun for a while, but I was the woman he wanted. I will say he was bummed after you left, though. He showed me that St. Christopher medal you gave him.”

Susannah made an effort not to reveal her shock. She’d almost forgotten about that. She had given Jake the medal and couldn’t believe he’d shown it to Sharon.

“I heard from him not too long ago,” Sharon said, pushing the cart past her. “I might still have his number if you want it.”

Susannah’s fingers tightened on the cart handle.

“Stop by the Roadside Inn some night and I’ll see if I can find it for you,” she said casually as she strolled by.

CHAPTER 24

Chrissie was already at the house when Susannah arrived. Hair flying, she ran out the front door the minute Susannah parked and surged down the steps with the energy reserved for the young.

“Where were you?” her daughter demanded.

That was an interesting question in light of the fact that Chrissie hadn’t seen fit to enlighten Susannah about her whereabouts in two days.

“When did you get home?” Susannah asked instead, remaining cool and collected as she headed up the steps and into the house, carrying her groceries.

“You had a phone call.” Chrissie, it seemed, wasn’t planning to answer any questions herself.

“Who phoned? Dad?”

“No.” Chrissie walked backward in front of Susannah, her eyes flashing with irritation. “A private investigator. You’re having Troy investigated, aren’t you?”

That might not be such a bad idea. Susannah wished she’d thought of it earlier. “No, I’m not,” she said bluntly. That denial appeared to mollify Chrissie—for approximately two seconds.

“Then what’s it about?”

“Nothing.” Nothing that concerned her daughter, at any rate. Although she realized she might have wasted a thousand bucks, since Sharon seemed to know where Jake was, and all she’d have to do was humble herself enough to ask for the information.

“Mom,” her daughter cried, using the same voice she had as a five-year-old determined to have her way. “You can’t keep this from me. Why did you hire a private investigator?”

Susannah set her purse on the kitchen table, then opened the refrigerator and put the pint of cream inside. While she had it open, she took out a cold soda. Closing the door, she leaned against it, frowning as she saw the ring dangling from a long chain around Chrissie’s neck.

“Where’d you get that?” Susannah asked, reaching out to examine the ring.

“I found it in one of the bedroom drawers. It’s kind of pretty.”

Susannah sighed. “It belonged to my dad.” The signet ring, bearing his law school crest, was the only jewelry her father had ever worn other than his wedding band.

Fingering the ring, Chrissie asked, “Is it all right if I wear it?”

“I guess. Just be careful with it.” She pulled the tab on her soda and took a deep swallow. “Now, what did the investigator say?”

Chrissie hesitated. “First I want you to tell me what this is about.”

“No. This has nothing to do with you.”

“Oh-kay…” Chrissie dragged out the word. “At least give me a clue.”

“What did she say?” Susannah repeated irritably. The confrontation with Sharon was responsible for her mood. She hated knowing that Jake had gone back to his former girlfriend.

Chrissie paced the area in front of the kitchen sink. “She said you should call. You might not get her right away because she’s going out of town, so she set up a two o’clock appointment for Tuesday, after the holiday.”

Susanna had completely forgotten this was the Fourth of July weekend. Knowing that if she didn’t catch Shirl Remington right away she’d have to wait, Susannah hurried to the phone.

Chrissie regarded her with a suspicious glare. “Are you sure this doesn’t have anything to do with Troy?”

“I’m positive.” As she picked up the receiver, Susannah discovered that she didn’t have the agency number on hand.

“Where were you so long?” Chrissie asked again, this time without the defiant attitude.

Susannah sighed as she rummaged through her purse for the investigator’s business card. “In Kettle Falls visiting my brother’s old girlfriend and then I stopped at the grocery store.”

Frowning, Chrissie mulled that over. “Any particular reason you looked up one of Uncle Doug’s old girlfriends?”

“I thought I’d say hello. It was a social call. Why all the questions?”

“I just wanted to know where you were.”

Susannah found the card and her heart slowed. She would rather have put off calling until Chrissie was out of the room, but checking the clock, she dared not delay a second longer.

“Are you going to tell me what the P.I. says?” Chrissie asked as Susannah lifted the receiver again.

Susannah ignored the question and punched out the number. After five endlessly long rings, Shirl Remington’s answering machine clicked on. “I’m sorry I can’t take your call. I’m either on the other line or away from my desk. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you at my earliest convenience.”

Awash with disappointment, Susannah waited for the annoying sound of the beep. “Hi. This is Susannah Nelson returning your call. I’m sorry I missed you. I’ll see you—”

“Shirl Remington.” The P.I.’s voice broke in.

“Shirl, oh, hi.” Susannah’s heart rate soared. “I’m glad I caught you.”

“I was on my way out the door. Your daughter gave you the message?”

“Yes. Were you able to find…my friend?” she asked, shooting a glance at Chrissie who was watching and listening intently.

“I’ll be able to tell you more when I see you. Does Tuesday afternoon work for you?”

“Yes, perfect.” Susannah hoped the investigator wouldn’t keep her waiting until then. “Can you tell me anything now?” She hated to reveal how anxious she was.

“I managed to dig up one interesting bit of information. It’s rather complicated so I’d prefer to explain later.”

“Okay.” The frustration was killing her. “I might have some information myself.”

“Great. I’m putting out some feelers in Canada. Hopefully I’ll have more to tell you when we meet.”

“Canada?”

“I’ll explain everything on Tuesday,” she repeated.

“Right…have a nice weekend.” Susannah’s head was spinning. Did Jake live in Canada?

“Happy Fourth of July,” Shirl said and, with that, the line went dead.

“What did she tell you?” Chrissie pried. “What was that about Canada?”

Still absorbed in her thoughts, Susannah shook her head. “She said we’d talk on Tuesday.” Until then, her stomach would be in knots. Instinct told her she was close to finding Jake. She could feel it. Although maybe that was merely because she so badly wanted to talk to him.