The Country Guesthouse (Sullivan's Crossing #5)(81)

But Victoria’s conversation was punctuated with heavy sighs and a bit of nervous twitching. “Victoria, is something wrong? You seem not quite yourself.”

And then Victoria dropped the bomb. “Oh, I haven’t been feeling well. I’ve lost a few pounds, my lymph nodes are swollen, I’m fatigued. I’m afraid my cancer is back. Hodgkin’s.”

“Oh, no!” Helen said. “When did you have it before?”

“A few years ago. Five years now.”

That was a different number. Cal had been told seven years ago.

“What will you do?”

“I’ll go back to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester. That’s where I was treated before.”

“Will you stay in Minnesota, then? To be closer to your doctor?”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I let my house go. I think I’ll stay somewhere near the clinic for tests. I might come back here. I do have my grandson here. I’m going next week—there’s only one way to know for sure—biopsies and blood work.”

“We can keep in touch by phone.”

“I’ll try. It’s an insidious disease,” Victoria said. “It couldn’t come at a worse time. And, of course, my insurance was canceled. Fortunately I have enough saved to get through the biopsy.”

Helen could see where this was leading and she was very cooperative. “But what about the treatment?” she asked. “How will you pay for that?”

Victoria shrugged. “I’ll manage somehow.”

“You said you were afraid your cancer is back. How did you manage before?”

“I had insurance then,” she said. “And a couple of coworkers held a fund-raiser for me and that covered the copay and my rent while I couldn’t work. I don’t have any coworkers here. Very few friends at all, for that matter. And aside from a couple of distant cousins, no family.”

“But you must have dozens of friends in Minneapolis. Haven’t you lived there forever?”

“Yes, I have a few friends, most of them live from paycheck to paycheck, like I used to. And the truth is I feel closer to you than most of my other friends, and in such a short time, too. But thankfully I’ve stopped worrying so much about Hannah and Noah. I think I have a more positive attitude toward the whole affair. I have a feeling if I’m patient, I’ll have a future with my grandson. How much of a future, only God knows.”

So Helen went home and made a call to Cal. “Do you have an address for Victoria Addison? I’ve been poking around in her life a bit.”

“What are you looking for?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “Lies, I suppose.”

“I hate to break it to you, but everyone lies. And it’s not illegal.” But he did give her the address. Victoria was not his client; it was the same address his private detective had discovered.

Helen looked up the county assessor’s website in Minneapolis. She found the name of the owner of the home Victoria rented was Gerald Sudmeyer. She googled his name and got a phone number. Then she walked over to the store to borrow Sully’s phone.

“Why?” he asked.

“I want to call someone and not have my name pop up on the caller ID. I’m being clandestine.”

“Oh, brother. I think you’re butting your nose in.”

“A little bit, but for a good cause.”

“And what good cause might that be, madam?”

“I don’t want to divulge that information just yet,” she said. “I’ll bring your phone back when I’m done.”

“And then you’ll tell me?”

Helen grinned. “You play all innocent but you’re just as nosy as I am. Yes, I’ll tell you after I make a call. I might not have much to tell.”

She got comfortable on the porch and went over everything she might say in her mind. Then she dialed.

And, of course, she got the voice mail. This is the Sudmeyer residence... What a buzzkill. She thought the chance was slim that anyone would return her call but left a message anyway. “Hello, my name is Jane Sullivan and I’m calling about a woman who might be a mutual friend of ours—Victoria Addison. Would you please call me back at this number? I’d so appreciate it.” Then she put the phone down on the table in disappointment. She opened her laptop and attempted to set her brain to her story in progress.

It was barely ten minutes later that Sully’s phone rang and she looked at the caller ID to see if it was one of Sully’s friends or family. The name on the ID was Sudmeyer. “Hello?” she answered expectantly.

“Hello, this is Gerry Sudmeyer. Is Jane there?”

“Speaking. Thank you for getting back to me, Mr. Sudmeyer. I’m trying to locate Mrs. Victoria Addison. Do you happen to have a number for her?”

“I have a number but it doesn’t appear to be working,” he said. “Do you mind if I ask—how do you know her?”

“Oh, we go way back, but I haven’t spoken to her in quite a while and frankly, I’ve gotten a little worried. I sent last year’s Christmas card to an address that appears to be your house.” Helen recited the address. “I was hoping she was staying with you.”

“That’s a rental. We haven’t seen her in months. I don’t know how to tell you this but... Well...she’s sick. I thought maybe you were a relative calling to give me the bad news... Her son stopped by to cut the grass a few months ago but I don’t have any contact information for him and I don’t know his first name. I’ve called several hospitals...”