“What?”

Susannah sighed morosely. “I don’t have a computer here.”

“I do,” Carolyn said, as if it was understood that she’d help. “Come back to the house with me. I’ll log on to a couple of search engines and see what we can come up with.”

A surge of energy shot through Susannah. She hadn’t slept well the night before and was emotionally drained after confronting her mother this afternoon. Her concern for Chrissie wasn’t doing anything for her peace of mind, either.

“You want to do that now?”

“I don’t see why not,” Carolyn said. “I’m pretty much a night person, anyway.”

After paying the tab, Susannah followed Carolyn down the narrow country road. The night was dark, with moon and stars obscured by clouds. The porch light cast a friendly, welcoming glow.

When they arrived, Carolyn unlocked the door and turned off the alarm. She led Susannah into the house, to one of the back bedrooms, which she’d converted into a home office. As soon as she flicked on the light, she settled into the desk chair and reached for her mouse. Within minutes she was logged onto the Internet and making her way through search engines with the confidence of someone who used computers regularly.

Although Susannah had access to a computer at school and at home, she was rarely online. There was only one computer in the house, and Brian hogged it most evenings. For her, the computer was a tool, and she didn’t have the leisure time to explore its research or recreational potential.

Susannah got a second chair, pulled it close to the desk and sat down, more than happy to let Carolyn do the work.

After several minutes, Carolyn leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Bingo.”

“You found him?” It couldn’t possibly be this easy.

“I can’t be sure, but didn’t you say his father’s name was Allan?”

Susannah nodded.

“Here’s a Jacob Allan Presley. That sounds promising, doesn’t it?”

“Very promising.” Susannah couldn’t remember Jake’s middle name, but it made sense that he’d share his father’s.

Carolyn’s smile was contagious. “There’s only one way to find out. Phone him and see.”

“Now?”

“You might want to wait until morning,” she suggested, smiling.

Susannah was too excited to sit still. After all these years, all this wondering and regretting, it had taken nothing more than a few strokes of the computer keys to locate Jake.

CHAPTER 19

Late that evening, Vivian woke, and instantly her heart was weighted down by the events of that afternoon. Rarely had she seen Susannah more upset. But whatever Susannah believed, Vivian knew George would never do anything to hurt his children. There must’ve been some misunderstanding.

The room was dark, but her eyes quickly adjusted to the lack of light. She sat up in bed, trying to make sense of what Susannah had told her. If only George would come to her again. Then she could ask him about all this. He’d explain everything, and Vivian would be able to tell Susannah and her daughter would understand.

Except that George hadn’t come and she’d waited as long as she could before falling asleep.

Her husband was the one who’d assured her that moving into the assisted-living center was the right thing to do. Yet not once since she’d arrived had George come to visit. Now she was lonely…and disappointed.

Laying aside the sheet, Vivian reached for her robe and slipped her arms into the long sleeves. Her balance wasn’t as good as it used to be. She had a cane, but hadn’t wanted Susannah to know how much she sometimes needed it, because her daughter would make a fuss. Consequently Vivian hardly ever used it in front of her family. She needed her cane now, though, and retrieved it from the umbrella stand in the corner.

She hobbled around the darkened apartment from her bed to the living room chair. She couldn’t remember where the light was…. But it seemed George always came to her at night, so perhaps if she sat up and waited for him, he’d know how badly she needed to talk to him.

The dark and silence lured her, and it demanded effort not to drift back to sleep. Her head sagged to one side, startling her into wakefulness. Jerking upright, she felt her heart beat frantically until she remembered she was waiting for George. She had something important to ask him—only she couldn’t quite remember what. She reassured herself that she’d recall it in a moment.

She tried really hard to think. Her question had to do with Susannah; that much she knew. But George still didn’t come.

In an instant Vivian realized why. He must have forgotten she wasn’t living at the house anymore. He was probably there now, wondering where she’d gone. He must be terribly worried. There was no help for it; she’d have to go to him.

Leaning on the cane, she raised herself to an upright position and was breathing hard by the time she was standing. Slowly, she shuffled toward the door. It felt as if someone had strapped ten-pound bags of flour to her feet. Lifting them and walking normally seemed impossible. Each step was a struggle, but she wasn’t deterred.

Opening the door, she looked both ways and didn’t recognize a thing. Heaven only knew where she was now. George would be upset with her.

Moving as fast as she could, she stepped into the hallway. Long and dimly lit, it resembled a hospital corridor, but Vivian knew that couldn’t be right. She wasn’t wearing a hospital gown and she didn’t see any medical personnel. That didn’t mean much, though, not these days. All the hospitals were understaffed. No one respected the sick. Old people were left to their own devices.

With labored steps, Vivian started down the hall. No one seemed to be around.

“You’re up early.”

Not seeing anyone, Vivian stopped and glanced around.

“In here.”

She turned toward the sound of the voice and found an elderly man standing next to a pool table. He wore a housecoat and had a pair of crutches. One crutch rested along the side of the gaming table. This was some fancy hospital, if it was a hospital.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“George.”

“No, you’re not.” She was furious that some man would try to pass himself off as her sweetheart. “I know my husband, and you’re not him.”

“You’re not my wife, either, but my name is still George.”

Vivian stepped a bit farther into the room. “I’m looking for him.”

George nodded and using his crutch as a pool cue, aimed at the black ball in the center of the table. With an ease that amused her, the ball rolled toward the corner pocket and slid effortlessly inside.

“Good shot.”

“I’ve had plenty of practice.”

Vivian began to leave the room. “Very nice meeting you, but I need to find my husband.”

“Good luck,” he said, waving his crutch at her.

Vivian continued down the hallway. This was a hospital, all right. She recognized the nurses’ station. It was deserted at the moment, which was probably for the best. Vivian didn’t want anyone to stop her.

Two doors opened to the outside. This area was well lit and, supported by her cane, she started out. To her surprise, no matter how hard she pushed at one door and then the other, they wouldn’t budge.

“They keep the doors locked,” George said from behind her. He leaned heavily on both his crutches now. “No one can come in or go out until after eight in the morning.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“Yup. That’s how they do things around here.”

She was being held prisoner. “This is an outrage. I’m telling my daughter.”

Using both crutches, George swung forward. “Won’t do you any good. That’s just the way it is. What’s the matter, can’t you sleep?”

Vivian was tired and confused. “I need to talk to George. I told my daughter I would. She’s going to be so disappointed that I didn’t see him.” This burden was almost more than she could carry.

“Why don’t we sit down and you can tell me all about it. I’m a good listener and my name is George.”

“But…”

“You can tell your daughter that we talked it over, and then you’ll both feel better.”

Vivian wasn’t sure that would work. Susannah had been so rattled. Doing what this George suggested would be cheating, but she’d promised Susannah…. Only she couldn’t quite remember what she needed to find out.

“Have we met?” she asked, wondering if George was someone she should know. He must be; she’d met so many people through the years.

“Not until tonight. I take meals in my room. You’re new, aren’t you?”

She frowned. “Fairly new.” That seemed like a safe answer.

“So, do you want to sit down and talk for a bit?” He gestured with his crutch to the room off the lobby, the one with the massive stone fireplace. It was cozy and inviting, with a number of chairs and a sofa. A piano took up one corner and a bookshelf the other.

“Will it help?” she asked.

“It might,” he told her.

Since she couldn’t get out of here, Vivian decided she might as well talk to this George. That was the best she could do for now.

Shuffling her feet, moving awkwardly, she made her way into the room and sat down in the big overstuffed chair next to the fireplace.

George used his crutch to push aside the ottoman in the chair next to hers and carefully eased himself down. “How long have you been here?” he asked.

Vivian shook her head. “I can’t rightly say. My daughter insisted I come.” She should’ve fought harder, she mused, and wished she had. “I didn’t want to leave my home, but George told me I should.”

“Where is he?”

“Calvary Cemetery.”

Her newfound friend bent forward and stared at her, as if seeing her for the first time. “Dead, is he?”

Vivian nodded. “But he visits.”

“I see.”

Vivian hadn’t told many people and thought perhaps it was a mistake to trust this man with her secret.

George studied her through half-shut eyes. “Your husband only comes when he feels like it?”

She didn’t know exactly how to explain. “He comes when he can. I need to ask him about Susannah. She’s our daughter and she was upset this afternoon about something her father did.”

“You told her you’d discuss it with him?”

“Yes, but George didn’t come and I’m afraid she’ll think even worse of him.” She was embarrassed to admit to this stranger that her husband and daughter hadn’t always seen eye to eye.

“What’s the problem?”

Vivian rested the cane between her knees and planted both hands on top. “That’s just it—I don’t precisely remember. He did something.”

“Out of love?”

“Of course! George loved his children. There’s only Susannah now…. Our son was killed years ago. I’m afraid George was never the same afterward.”