She looked up to find Gil standing beside the table about an hour later. He lightly rested his hand on her shoulder. “Sorry, the store’s been busy. I thought I’d be able to help more. Any luck so far?”
“I don’t know. I mean, we know his approximate age, but not much else, and the name is so common. I’ve found about a million Paul Clarks in every state in the nation. I’m not sure how we’ll ever narrow it down.”
“It’s too bad that Paul wasn’t thoughtful enough to be born with an unusual name, isn’t it?” Gil eyes sparkled and he gave her a mischievous wink.
“It’s not funny. I’m at a loss here. It could take years to find him.”
“Well, let’s see. What all did Aunt Josephine tell us about him?”
Josephine had spent about an hour talking to them about Paul after they’d shown her the letter. Madeline struggled to remember what all she’d told them. “She said he had no family left. So no lead there.” Madeline sighed in frustration.
“Well, he never finished high school here in Comfort Crossing. Wonder if he ever finished somewhere. Maybe we could find that?”
“Do you know how many Paul Clarks graduated from high school? And we don’t even know what year. He might not have finished high school right away, if he ever did.”
“There has to be something to give us a clue. Can you remember what else she said about him?”
“She said he was tall with brown hair—it’s probably gray now—and, what else? Didn’t she say he was a good artist?” Madeline turned back to the computer. Of course an artist could have headed in a million directions with his life, if he even did something with his artistic talent. But at least it was a start.
The bell over the door rang again and Gil hurried off to help his customer. Madeline punched in Paul Clark artist on the laptop.
Now that narrowed the results down some. Of course, she had no clue if she was even headed in the right direction. She pored over the results, jotting down notes, but as the hours wore on, she wasn’t sure she was any closer to an answer.
Gil came over and dropped some sandwiches on the table. “My famous chicken salad, or ham on rye?”
“Oh, a gourmet chef, too? I didn’t know.”
“Okay, I lied. I sent Lou over to the Magnolia Cafe to pick up some lunch for us.”
“I’ll take the chicken salad.” Because, of course, there was no way she was going to miss a meal in Comfort Crossing. Seriously, just look at those thick slices of sourdough for the sandwich. This week did not bode well for her waistline.
Gil slid into the seat beside her. They both reached for the sandwiches at the same time. His strong hand brushed the back of hers, sending a jolt of heat and awareness rocketing through her. She jerked her hand back and waited for him to take the ham on rye. Gil seemed oblivious to the turmoil from his one accidental touch. First his wicked smile, and now his touch was sending warning signals that she knew she should heed. Ignore and move on.
She took her sandwich after his hands were safely back in front of him unwrapping his sandwich.
“You come up with anything?” Gil asked.
“Just a lot of Paul Clarks that are artists, or do anything that I can think of searching for that is artistic.”
She turned the laptop towards Gil. “See?”
“That’s a lot of search results.”
“I know.” She took a quick bite of her sandwich, then pulled the laptop back in front of her, being careful not to drop any crumbs on the keyboard.
Maybe she’d try an image search. She pulled up the image search engine and typed in Paul Clark. A screen full of paintings and photos stared back at her. She scrolled down the list. An image of a painting of a single live oak tree caught her attention and she clicked on it. It was a simple watercolor painting that captured the atmosphere of the south. Then she saw the title of the piece. One and Only. Her heart did a cartwheel in her chest.
“Gil. This has to be him. Look at the title.” Madeline shoved the laptop over to Gil and jumped up and stood behind him. “See? One and Only. A live oak tree. It has to be him.”
“It does sound like quite a coincidence if it’s not him. Can you dig up more information on him from this image?”
“It’s on display at a gallery in New Orleans. The artist is… the artist is O. Clark. O. It has to be him, don’t you think? He’s using the O as the first initial on his work.”
“I think we have a pretty good lead that might turn out to be him.”
“I’m headed to New Orleans.” Madeline wrote down the address of the gallery. “It says the gallery is open until eight tonight. How far away is New Orleans?”