I'll Be Your Blue Sky (Love Walked In #3)(78)

“December of 1956.”

I watched all those sharp eyes grow foggy and inward looking for a moment, as all of them traveled back—or tried to travel back—over fifty years. When they seemed to have all returned, I went on.

“Was it a local girl in trouble?” asked Kate.

For a second, I didn’t know what she meant, and then, starting just under her ribs, she drew a downward curve in the air with her hand in a universal symbol for pregnant.

“Not local,” I said. “We think she was, um, just passing through. Her name was Sarah Giles.”

They all exchanged looks, and then Tess shook her head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“We think she might have come with a friend, Edith Herron. And my grandfather, who came up from New York, the man who adopted Sarah’s baby, his name was Gareth Grace, but people here might have known him as George Graham.”

“An alias? What was he?” called out Jack. “A damned spy?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but Kate called back, “None of our business, Jack Powell, so zip it.”

No one remembered a man named either of those things, and no one knew anyone named Edith Herron. I looked at Dev, my heart sinking.

Seeing my disappointment, Tess said, “Names are the first thing to go. You’ll find that out one day. But I can still place a face. Do you have a picture of any of these people?”

I reached into my bag and took out two photos, one Joseph had taken of Edith walking on the beach and one of Sarah that I’d printed out from Antioch Library’s digitized newspaper articles about the trial.

Everyone passed the photos around. There was a lot of head shaking, and then, just as Tess was handing the photos back to me, Kate said, “Let me see that printed-out one again.”

She held it at arm’s length and narrowed her eyes.

“This one looks a bit like Dr. Farley’s daughter, Gwen. Pretty girl. Similar eyes. But mostly it’s that widow’s peak. You don’t see really defined widow’s peaks like that very often.”

Tess peered at the picture.

“Now that you mention it, that does look like Gwen,” she said. “With that hairline that makes her face look like a valentine.”

A small thrill of hope ran through me. “Does Gwen still live around here?”

“No,” said Kate. “Moved to Boston years ago. I think it was Boston.”

“Oh,” I said.

“Comes up to visit every summer with her family, though,” said Tess. “Or used to.”

Her family. Dev’s eyes met mine.

“Who do they visit?” he asked.

“Well, old Dr. Farley, of course, Tom Farley. And his wife.”

“They’re still alive?” I said.

“Well, who the heck visits dead people?” shouted Jack.

“Alive last I heard, and I would’ve heard if they weren’t, I think. Never knew Tom’s wife very well. They live pretty far out in the country, and she always kind of kept to herself, especially when her kids were growing up. Had five or six of them. I guess they kept her busy because people hardly ever saw her for years. Got out and about a little more after they all moved away. Nice enough to talk to, but private, I guess,” said Tess.

“Didn’t want you poking your big nose in her business, I’ll bet,” said Jack. “Can’t say I blame her!”

“Do you know her name?” said Dev. “Tom Farley’s wife?”

“Why, Sarah. Sarah Farley,” said Tess. Her eyes widened. “Well, I’ll be damned. You don’t suppose . . .”

“He was a doctor,” I said to Dev. “Like Edith was a nurse. A doctor fits.”

“Do you know if Sarah came here from somewhere else?” Dev asked Tess. “Like maybe the United States?”

Tess rubbed her chin, thinking. “I can’t recall. Can you, Kate?”

“I don’t remember going to school with her or anything, but then she’s quite a few years younger than we are.”

“Who isn’t?” said Jack.

Tess slapped her forehead. “Chicago!”

“Really?” I said. “Are you sure?”

“Not positive. But I think so. Tom grew up here but trained with a doctor in Chicago. I think Sarah was his sweetheart down there, and he brought her up one spring to marry her.”

“Oh,” I said, a little glumly. “Spring. Spring doesn’t fit.”

“Might not have been spring,” said Tess, soothingly. “Although that’s what I remember.”

“Your memory’s as full of holes as a leaky boat,” bellowed Jack.

“Hey,” said Dev, touching my wrist with one finger. “It’s worth checking, right?”

“Go inside and get me some paper, Jack Powell,” demanded Tess, “and I’ll write down directions to the Farley house.”

Jack got up with a groan and shambled, mumbling all the way, toward the door of the building.

Kate said, “And what about you two? Are you getting married?” She swished her forefinger back and forth between us.

Dev smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Us? Uh, actually—”

“Hey,” I told Kate, cutting Dev off. “You never know.”