Jake nearly worked through dinner. His characters were taking on lives and opinions of their own, and he was afraid if he left them alone too long, they might disappear and ruin his plans to write this particular novel.
His grumbling stomach and a reminder on his computer screen to charge his laptop convinced him it was time to take a break. Feeling a little guilty that he hadn’t checked in with Max all day, he walked out his back door and headed for the stables. He took several steps across the flagstone patio before he saw his grandmother in the gardens.
He took a step in her direction, but when he caught a glimpse of the figure kneeling down by a bed of posies, his heart nearly stopped. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid, and she wore a red flannel shirt over faded blue jeans. For a moment, he could have sworn he was staring at a younger version of his mother.
When he had offered Hannah the use of his mother’s clothes, he hadn’t considered how much the two women resembled each other. Besides being thirty years his mother’s junior, Hannah wasn’t quite as tall as his mother, as evidenced by the way the jeans were rolled up at the bottom. When braided, though, her long hair made the two women look eerily similar, and Jake couldn’t count the number of times he had found his mother tending to the flowers just as Hannah was doing right now.
It wasn’t his mother, he told himself, repeating the sentiment in his mind as he tried to shake off the sudden shakiness and the tightness in his chest.
Hannah must have sensed his presence because she stood quickly and turned to face him. He thought he saw a moment of panic reflected on her face, but it quickly left. Her hands were covered by a pair of his grandmother’s gardening gloves, and she held a small spade in her hand. “Dinner is in the oven, but it won’t be ready for another half hour,” she said, taking a step toward him. “I hope that’s okay. Miss Abigail wanted some fresh flowers for the table.”
“That’s fine,” he said, still unnerved. “I was headed to the barn to check in with Max.”
“I was going to ask you if you would mind spending a few minutes with your grandmother after dinner. I wanted to check on my horse.”
“Why don’t you walk over with me now?” Jake saw the concern on Hannah’s face when she glanced in his grandmother’s direction. “She’ll be fine alone for a few minutes, especially if dinner is already made.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, still hesitant.
Jake nodded. “Hey, Grandma,” he called out. “Hannah and I are going over to the stables for a few minutes. We’ll be right back, okay?”
“Okay, dear,” she said, her attention on her flowers.
“How has everything been going today?” Jake asked Charlotte as he led the way toward the stables.
“Good. She’s had a good day.” Her eyes lit up when she added, “She was teaching me how to use your dad’s computer.”
“Teaching you, huh?” Jake found the image endearing. The little old lady teaching a woman in her twenties, who had undoubtedly grown up with computer technology. A smile tugged at his lips.
“I was actually impressed with how much she knows,” Charlotte admitted with a laugh.
“You must have been working on genealogy.”
“How did you know that?”
“She loves that stuff. It’s also the only thing she uses the computer for.”
“We were looking at your family history today. It must be amazing to know so much about your ancestors and to know they grew up in the same house you live in today.”
“I don’t really live here. Not anymore.”
“You don’t?” Her eyebrows drew together. “Where do you live?”
“New York.” Jake debated how much to share with Hannah and decided it wouldn’t hurt for her to understand his current dilemma. “When my parents died, I was named trustee for my grandma’s trust, which also means I’m responsible for her care.”
“You moved here so she could stay,” Hannah concluded. “That’s really sweet of you.”
“It’s just temporary,” Jake said, not sure he was ready to accept her altruistic view of him. “I haven’t really figured out what I’m going to do for the long-term.”
She didn’t speak again until they reached the stable doors. “What exactly do you do for a living?”
“I’m an author,” Jake said, never tiring of the thrill that came from saying those words.
“Oh. I thought you were an artist of some sort.”
“An artist?”
“Yeah. When I met Desiree, she thought I was your model, and you were talking about your studio, so I assumed . . .”
“She probably thought you were modeling for the cover of my next book. I’m a writer. At least, at the moment I’m trying to be.” Jake led the way into the barn. “My dad always thought I could do both, manage the farm and do what I love.”
“I know farming is a full-time job and then some. I can’t imagine you would have much time left over at the end of the day to write.”
“Exactly. I think my dad was finally coming around to that fact . . .” Jake’s voice trailed off. He stopped by the first stall, waiting for Hannah’s horse to wander toward him. He felt his chest tighten with words he needed to say but didn’t want to hear. “They were coming to see me when they died.”
He expected her to express her condolences, to say their deaths weren’t his fault. He heard her move closer, but when she remained silent, he turned to face her. The tears shimmering in her eyes surprised him and accurately reflected the burning emotions churning inside him.
“Do you think the hurt will ever go away?” she asked softly.
“I don’t know.” Recognizing her suffering and struck by his own sudden need for comfort, he reached out, relieved when she stepped into the embrace. She laid her head against his shoulder, her arms coming around his waist. They stood there while a minute stretched into two.
It was odd, he thought, that he had been surrounded by family at his parents’ funeral, and yet the person who seemed most able to give him comfort was someone who had never met his mom and dad. Jake felt his throat constrict, and he couldn’t manage to find any more words.
Charlotte’s voice was raspy when she whispered, “I hear time is supposed to heal all wounds.”
Jake shifted away so he could see her face, strangely reassured by the odd connection between them. Tears had spilled over and streaked down her face. He lifted a hand and wiped a tear away without thinking. “I hope so.”
Movement behind them made him drop his arms away and take a step back. When he turned, he saw Max staring at them from the doorway, his face pale.
Hannah lifted both hands to wipe the remaining moisture from her cheeks. She took a quick glance at her horse, patting its neck before taking a step toward the door. “I should go check on dinner and make sure your grandma is okay.”
“I’ll be in after a little while.”
Hannah exchanged a quick greeting with Max on her way out. Jake looked at his foreman, who still looked unsettled.
“Are you okay, Max?” Jake asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Max heaved out a breath. “I thought I had.”
“What?”
“The two of you, just now. You looked just like your parents.” Max’s gaze followed Hannah across the yard. “Do you think she knows that’s your mother’s favorite shirt?”
“No. She doesn’t have a clue.”
* * *
“I don’t have a clue where she went. I’ve tried everything.” Cheng dropped his keys on the long desk beside the seized guardian equipment.
“She couldn’t have just disappeared,” Owen insisted.
“Actually, that’s exactly what she did. Her cell phone hasn’t been used since the day you eliminated Martin and Dorsey, she hasn’t used her ID since she got off the train in Baltimore, and the only hotel we know she stayed in, she paid cash.”
Owen’s frustration mounted. “What about the surveillance videos from local buses, trains, and cabs?”
“That’s what I’m working on,” Cheng said. “The girl backtracked so many times it’s hard to figure out where exactly she was heading. Right now I’m concentrating on the security data for the Fredericksburg transit system. I found her on a local train there, but it looks like she might have been using trains as a place to sleep rather than as transportation.”
“Keep at it. Everyone leaves a trail whether they realize it or not.”
“You may be forgetting one thing.”
“What’s that?” Owen asked.
“If we’re right about her, she’s a ghost.”
* * *
“Anything?” Nelson asked Larry when he walked into his office at the station.
“Not a thing. It’s like Charlie disappeared off the face of the earth,” Larry answered heavily. “Other than knowing she got on a train heading for Baltimore, we haven’t seen a trace of her.”
“The feds haven’t been much help either,” Nelson muttered. He lifted a stack of photos and handed them to Larry. “Come help me look through these traffic photos.”
“You finally got them?”
“Yeah. It took county long enough.” Nelson divided the stack in two and handed Larry one of them. “We’ll start by separating them between the locals and the folks we don’t know.”
“Then what?” Absently, Larry began shuffling through the photos.
“We’ll have to interview everyone we know and see if they noticed anything. For the ones we don’t recognize, run the license plate numbers and make a list of the registered owners so we can track them down.”
“Okay.” Larry carried his stack to his desk. Both men found more familiar faces than unfamiliar ones, each making his own list. Not twenty minutes after they started, Larry held one up and passed it to Nelson. “Take a look at this one.”
Nelson looked down at a photo of an Asian man driving a beige SUV. “I don’t think I’ve seen that guy around before. I take it you don’t know him either?”
“Never seen him before.” Larry pointed to the passenger seat. “And look at this.”
Nelson took the photo again and looked closer. Sure enough, there was a speck of color just above the dashboard. “That looks like someone is ducking down.”
“Which means whoever it is might have something to hide.”
Nelson nodded. “Run the license plate on this one and see if you can find any other photos of him.”
“I’ll put the call in. Hopefully it won’t take so long to get the results this time,” Larry said. “Are you going to let the guy at the NSA know what we’ve found?”
“I don’t have much of a choice. It’s strange that I haven’t heard from the first guy since last week, but the one I met with at Fort Meade calls every couple of days looking for an update.”
“At least it’s nice to know someone else wants to find Dwight’s killer too.”
“I just hope we come up with something soon. I’m afraid this trail is already growing cold.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Larry said with confidence. “You won’t rest until you do.”
“You’ve got that right.”