“ ’Scuse me, miss?”
A boy no older than six appeared nearby. He approached her table with cap in hand. His threadbare clothes and dirt-smudged cheeks tugged at her heart. She glanced past his head on the lookout for Mr. Bisset. Though kindhearted, the man would not approve of beggars troubling his patrons.
She signaled for the boy to come closer, then dug through her purse and produced two dimes. “Here you are,” she said in a hush.
He gave a nod and slipped the money into the pocket of his trousers. His gaze darted around before he asked quietly, “You is Vivian, ain’t ya?”
“Why–yes. But, how did you–”
“This here’s for you.” He handed her an envelope from the inside of his hat, folded in half, edges curled over.
“What is this? Who is it from?”
“Some fella in the alley. Gave me a whole dollar to deliver it right to ya.”
A dollar would be a fortune for the child. She unfolded the envelope to examine both sides. It bore not a single marking.
“How did the man know I’d be-” She looked up and found the child halfway through the courtyard. Thoughts swimming, she tore open the casing and pulled out a note. The handwriting, printed in block letters, had a messiness that appeared rushed.
VIVIAN,
MEET ME TONIGHT ON BINNEN BRIDGE AT 10.
TELL NO ONE. COME ALONE.
ISAAK
Her chest cinched. An ancient grip squeezed out her air, the hand of a ghost reaching from the soil. It wasn’t possible. Isaak was gone.
Or was he?
She snapped her head up to locate the messenger, now out of view. Whoever had employed the boy-she needed his description.
Vivian sped through the courtyard and out to the sidewalk. Her gaze combed the area in frantic sweeps, from cars to shops to alleys, but the child had evaporated like mist. He left no proof of existence. Save for the missive in her hand.
29
A half hour later Audra sat alone on a stranger’s couch, the slip of an address still in her grip. Upon arriving she’d barely said hello when Judith’s aunt ushered her inside. The compact lady with silver-blond curls introduced herself as Luanne, the sister of Judith’s father, Gene.
“Go on and make yourself at home. I’ll let Sean know you’re here,” Luanne had said, her smile as warm as the eyes behind her glasses. Then she shuffled out the front door.
Perhaps Sean was helping out in the barn. Audra had passed the brown wooden structure when coming up the drive. Two donkeys were grazing in a fenced-in field. The whole property looked to be two or three acres with trees scattered like freckles.
Only after parking did she pause to wonder what the heck she was doing here.
Skirting the thought, Audra scanned the cozy living room. The interior of the house conformed to the charm of its powder-blue exterior. Porcelain collectibles and framed photos sat on end table doilies. Cookbooks and craft books filled shelves flanking the fireplace. Hunched in the corner was a floor model radio, like Rip van Winkle in a decades-long sleep.
A song rang out from the mantel clock. “Westminster Chimes” marked the one o’clock hour.
She and Tess would usually be on lunch break. By now, at a restaurant near the clinic, they’d have devoured a veggie bento or spinach-and-cheese crepe. Already Audra missed their routine. More than that, she missed her regular clients and the animals she had treated and saved. And now another vet had taken her place. Just like that. Nothing to it. Wham-bam, you’re hired.
“Stop it,” she muttered to herself. “You’re the one who quit.”
“Audra?”
She flew to her feet and turned as Sean entered the house, his great-aunt right behind.
“Sean. Hi.”
“Hi . . .”
Audra couldn’t tell if his curious tone came from questioning her monologue or from surprise over her presence. Based on his scruffy jaw, wrinkled T-shirt, and dusty jeans, she went with the latter.
“I hope I’m not bothering you. At the gallery, your mom told me I should stop by. That she’d tell you I was coming.”
Luanne patted Sean’s arm. “Oh, dear, that’s my fault. Your mother did phone, but I didn’t realize your friend would be here so soon.” She shifted her attention to Audra. “I’m afraid I don’t move as fast as I used to.”
“Neither do I,” Audra assured her.
Luanne smiled. “Well, I’ll put some water on for tea. Better yet, I could make some hot cocoa if you’d like.”
Audra suddenly felt like she was younger than Jack. “Sounds delicious.”
“Sean?”
“Huh? Uh, yeah. Thanks.”
Luanne winked at Audra and padded through the dining room, presumably on to the kitchen. The quiet left behind was the type that followed a shove off a cliff.