Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3)(61)

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.