“You’re American, correct?”
“Yes.”
“But your husband’s not? He didn’t sound American when I talked with him on the phone.”
“Right, Michael is British.”
“You’ll have to tell me how you two met sometime.” Nanny rubbed the back of Molly’s hand. “I’m sure there’s a story there.”
“There is.”
“I appreciate you and your husband flying me in.”
“It’s our pleasure.”
“Well, I just wanted you to know that. Once I learned Rohan was here in the hospital, I had to find a way to get to him. I’m all the family that boy has left.”
At the sadness in Nanny’s voice, Molly’s heart went out to the woman. “I’m sure Rohan feels very lucky.”
Nanny’s hand tightened on Molly’s briefly. She looked past her to the harbor. “Awfully busy place.”
“There’s a lot going on right now.”
“The policeman I talked to—”
“Detective Chief Inspector Maurice Paddington.”
Nanny nodded. “Yes, that’s the one. He said that you’re responsible for a lot of this.”
Thank you for that, Inspector Paddington. “Unfortunately I seem to have stirred up more than I’d thought possible.” Molly was a grant writer. Usually she worked for nonprofit companies, as she had with the projects in Blackpool, but she’d also worked with corporate entities for a percentage. Her success had enabled her to take an early retirement, and one that she felt was well deserved after all her hard work.
Keeping up the pace she’d had before she’d met Michael wouldn’t have allowed the close marriage they had now. Michael had stepped away from much of his design work for the same reasons. Both of them had enough money invested to be financially stable for the rest of their lives. But they also picked up the occasional project that appealed to them. Michael hadn’t quit working on his own brands, though he did turn the games out at a slower rate these days.
“Mr. Paddington seems to think that some of the things you and your husband have been interested in might be what got my grandson in trouble.”
Molly searched the woman’s dark eyes but found no accusation there. “To be honest, Michael and I don’t know what Rohan was doing at the Crowe house that night.”
“The policeman led me to believe Rohan was friends with your husband.”
“They were. They are. Michael likes Rohan a lot. They’ve been working on a project together.”
“What project?”
“I’m sure Michael will show you if you want to see it. Explaining it just isn’t the same.” Nanny nodded.
“But Rohan didn’t tell us much, I’m afraid,” Molly added. “He was a very private person.”
“That boy has always been too quiet. Always thinking, always with his head up in the clouds. Never could get nothing out of him unless he was ready to talk about it.”
Molly wanted to turn the conversation to a lighter subject. “Speaking of up in the clouds, where did you learn to fly a floatplane?”
Nanny smiled. “In Kingston. I did crop dusting for farmers and I hauled tourists around in helicopters.”
“You fly helicopters, too?”
“Not anymore. But I probably still can. It’s not something you forget how to do.”
Rory passed the woman’s bags up to Irwin, then clambered up to help Irwin carry them to the waiting vintage limousine. The luxury car had come with the house, as well, and Michael and Molly seldom used it. However, Irwin loved taking it out every chance he got. He’d absolutely insisted on driving it to pick up their guest.
“Have you seen my grandson today, Molly?”
“Only a short time ago. We left Michael at the hospital with him.” Molly hesitated. “Michael’s been to visit Rohan at least once every day.”
“He’s a good friend to my grandbaby.”
“Michael’s a good person.”
“This thing that happened to Rohan, it must be hard on your husband.”
“It is.”
Nanny looked out across the harbor, but Molly knew the woman wasn’t seeing the ships and the buildings around the marina. She felt certain Nanny Myrie was thinking about that little boy Rohan Wallace had once been.
“The most difficult question for Michael is why Rohan was at the Crowes’ house that night.” Molly spoke softly, hoping not to offend. “Michael keeps wanting to blame himself. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but until he finds out what happened, I’m afraid he’s going to remain disconsolate.”
Turning back to Molly, Nanny patted her on the arm. “Don’t you be fretting too much about that husband of yours, Molly. I can tell you now, just like I’ll tell your Michael—this had nothing to do with some project. Rohan was obsessed with digging into the Crowes. That’s why he came all this way. The paths of that family and mine crossed a long time ago.”
“What do you mean?”
“Rohan didn’t end up in Blackpool by chance, Molly. He came here for a reason. Let’s get to the hospital and I’ll tell you and your husband about it. Ain’t no reason for him to be feeling responsible one minute longer.”
The woman’s declaration lifted some of the dread from Molly’s heart. She hated not knowing what was going on, and she hated the fact that Michael felt it was his fault.
“Ladies, the car is ready.” Irwin stood politely waiting.
Nanny stuck her arm through Molly’s and they walked up the pier toward the waiting car. Sensing someone watching her, Molly glanced up at the marina. Most, if not all, of the town knew who she was, but there were a number of tourists in Blackpool, as well.
A long-haired young man in dark clothes stood staring at her. Even when she caught him looking at her, he didn’t turn away. He just grinned, but there was no mirth in his expression. Judging by the black leather jacket, tattoos and facial piercings, he was one of Stefan Draghici’s gypsy family. The Draghici family had shown up in Blackpool several months ago claiming that the Crowe family owed them a fortune in Romanian gold that had been stolen from their ancestors.
“Irwin.” Molly reached into her jacket pocket for her iPhone.
“I see him, miss.”
“Do you recognize him?”
“No.”
“Was he there before?”
