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The Pieces We Keep(87)

By:Kristina McMorris


“Ah. Yeah,” he said. “Apparently, she and her brother, Grandpa Gene, were really close. He was an officer in Army Intelligence. I think all three of them had gone to high school together. Aunt Lu and Grandma Vivian were roommates in New York later, worked as phone operators—or something like that. Got most of this from my mom. Aunt Lu’s never wanted to say much about it, so we don’t push.”

“I can understand that.”

Sean nodded. A wistful smile indicated he recognized her personal view. “Anyway, after I moved to the farm, I was settling in and going through my old boxes, and that’s when I found the letter. Same for the obituary and some other stuff that belonged to my grandparents. I remember first finding the things, like I told you, but can’t say why I’d personally hung on to them.”

As Audra listened, she threw a glance toward Jack. He was still speeding smoothly around. “Have you ever asked your mom about all of this?”

“I don’t think she knows much more than I do. Said she’s always wanted to learn about where she came from and who her parents were. When she was a kid, she went through a phase of drilling my aunt for details. Aunt Lu would give her little nuggets, but always wound up getting emotional over it, or at least really quiet. So after a while, my mom dropped the subject. Also, ’cause I think she didn’t want to give the impression that my aunt wasn’t a good enough mother, because she was. She was great.”

“Seems like she would have been.” Audra smiled at the thought of the woman serving hot cocoa and marshmallows. The only thing missing from her snack tray had been a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches cut into mini-triangles. “Did your aunt and uncle have kids of their own?”

He shook his head. “Just my mom. Not sure if that was by choice, after all they’d gone through. Or if there were ... other reasons.”

The small hitch in his answer gave Audra pause; a couple’s potential fertility issues were, first off, none of her business and, second, a far leap from any relevance to Jack.

Guiding the discussion back, she asked, “Do you have any idea at all who Isaak might’ve been?”

“Not a clue. I wish I could ask Aunt Lu about him. But I doubt she’d be up for chatting about my grandma in a relationship with another guy.”

“Sure. Of course.” Audra couldn’t blame the woman; her loyalty belonged to her brother. Still, any obstacle at the moment was disappointing. She tucked the letter into its envelope and remembered the other pages Sean had brought. “Do you have something else in there?”

He didn’t respond. He’d turned his head to gaze at Jack, still rolling in circles. It was an analytical gaze, the kind she, too, had used to examine Jack’s features and behavior, envisioning him in a different era. In Sean’s case, maybe he was even searching for a distant family resemblance.

“Sean?”

“Huh?”

His hearing, she kept forgetting. Audra could only hope she hid her own weaknesses as well as he did. “Are those for me too?”

He looked down at the papers, refocusing. “Sorry, yeah.” He slid them across the metal table. “I did some digging around about Jakob Hemel. Had the same luck you did online. But a research librarian helped me find this.”

Audra started with the top page of the stapled packet, impressed he had gone to so much trouble. She quickly realized, however, the photocopied article featured a subject she’d already covered: the Nazi spies who were captured on the East Coast.

Sean added, “There’s a name in the article I think you should see. It’s on the third page.”

Anticipating a reference to Jakob, she rushed to the last sheet. Attached with a paper clip was a folded newspaper article, yellowed like Isaak’s letter. She tugged it free and scanned the story of a child who went missing in 1940.

“What is it I’m looking for?”

“This.” He moved the clipping aside and tapped his finger on the photocopied page, at the name underlined in pencil: Daniel Gerard. “He was an FBI agent involved in both of these cases.”

Audra glanced back at the aged clipping and verified the connection. But she shook her head, unsure how this pertained.

“The article about the missing kid,” Sean said, “was in a box with my grandma’s things. I can’t think that’s a coincidence.” He had a point, yet the link remained muddled.

“I wish I understood how this all fit together.”

Sean nodded, also at a loss.

Just then, she spotted Jack cutting a corner by some boulders. His scooter started to tip. He caught himself, but his leg grazed one of the rocks. He dusted off his knee and carried on as before.