Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3)(74)

“Yes.” Carolyn bobbed her head. “We tried to locate Jake by ourselves but kept running into dead ends.”

“Unfortunately I haven’t had much success myself,” the P.I. said.

“There’s my daughter….” On all fronts, this was the summer from hell. “She’s linked up with…with a young man of questionable character who may be Jake Presley’s son.” Susannah couldn’t prevent a deep sigh. “The reason I came back was to get my mother settled in assisted living, and Chrissie joined me here.”

Shirl nodded sympathetically. “Can you tell me about Jake and Doug’s friendship?” she asked next.

Not knowing how to answer, Susannah and Carolyn glanced at each other.

“Doug and I were exchanging letters before he was killed,” Carolyn began. “Last night I read through them again in light of what we’ve recently learned.”

Susannah sat up straighter, hoping Carolyn had come upon some fact that would bring clarity to this whole sorry mess.

“Doug never spelled it out for me, but reading between the lines I believe he was trying to help Jake.”

“Help him?” Susannah cried. “Help him how?”

“I don’t know,” Carolyn murmured. “What I suspect is that Jake got in over his head. We know now the FBI was on to him.”

“You’d think he might’ve said something to me,” she said. Both her brother and Jake had written in the beginning. Jake had written frequently for a brief time, and then less and less and soon not at all.

“How do you want me to proceed?” Shirl asked. “I can keep looking for Jake Presley. With enough time and money, I can probably find him for you, if that’s what you want. I can also look for a connection between your dead brother and Jake.”

“No, stop now,” Susannah said. “Sharon Nance, our, uh, friend from school, says she has a phone number for Jake.” What Sharon hadn’t told her was that Jake was living under an assumed name, most likely in Canada. Her preoccupation with him had been emotionally as well as financially expensive. At every curve in the road, she was uncovering information she’d rather not know, remnants of the past that shouldn’t be exhumed.

“I don’t care anymore. Jake doesn’t want to be found, and that’s fine. I’m content to leave it at that.”

CHAPTER 31

When she returned from Spokane, Susannah wasn’t surprised to discover that Chrissie was gone. Her daughter insisted she was moving to Colville. She’d left no room for discussion; she’d made up her mind and, as far as she was concerned, that was the end of it.

A quick check of Chrissie’s bedroom revealed that her suitcase was still there. The last threat, when Susannah told Chrissie she couldn’t live in the house after this summer, was a moot point. Apparently Troy had invited her to move in with him. Given no other option, she’d accept his invitation, Chrissie said. Susannah wasn’t about to let her daughter blackmail her. Unsure how to respond, Susannah decided to bide her time and visit her mother. She hoped Chrissie hadn’t mentioned the possibility of staying in Colville to Vivian, who would like nothing better than having her granddaughter nearby.

When Susannah arrived at Altamira, Vivian was in her room watching television, transfixed by the screen. As usual, she had on a cooking program.

“Hi, Mom.”

Her mother finally dragged her gaze away from the TV and a smile lit her face. “Jean, it’s so good to see you.”

More and more often, her mother had been calling Susannah by her aunt’s name. Her dead aunt’s name.

“Mom, it’s Susannah.”

Her mother frowned. “I know that.”

“Are you up to talking for a few minutes?” she asked, keeping her voice soft and patient.

Vivian picked up the remote control and muted the television. Sitting back in her chair, she tilted her head to one side in anticipation. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Mom, can I ask you a few questions about Doug?” This was hard.

Her mother blinked as if she didn’t recognize the name. Then everything seemed to fall into place. Her eyes went liquid with grief, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

Susannah came to stand by her mother, bending to wrap one arm around her shoulders. “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”

She shook her head. “It happened a long time ago. I don’t know how much I remember anymore.”

“Just answer what you can, all right?”

“You want to know about Dad?”

“No, Doug.” Her mother’s short-term memory seemed to be declining, too. “Was Doug in trouble when he died?”

“Trouble?” her mother repeated. “With whom?”

“The law.” She kept her voice devoid of emotion, as if they were discussing something as mundane as the use of sea salt in a particular recipe.

“Doug was a good boy. Everyone loved him.”

Knowing her father’s penchant for keeping things from her mother, Susannah wondered how much she’d known at the time, let alone what she recalled now.

“No mother should ever have to bury her son.” Vivian grew quiet. She stared into the distance as if lost in memory. “Oh, Jean, I’m so grateful you came to visit after Doug’s funeral. Having you with me was all that kept me sane.”