hard on her as it’d been on her daughter and the children. “Don’t tell me that red convertible belongs to you?”
“It does.” He set his wineglass next to the pizza box. “I hate to eat and run, but I’ve got to get back to Seattle.”
“Already?” Charlotte would have dearly loved a chat.
“Another time,” he promised. He bent down and kissed Charlotte’s cheek, then hugged Justine, who was busy pouring a glass of wine. The two men exchanged brief handshakes and Olivia escorted him to the door. Charlotte soon realized that Stan had picked up Olivia from the airport. She realized something else, too. The two men had not taken a liking to each other. Now, that was interesting.
“I should be leaving, too,” Justine announced. She gave Charlotte a half-full goblet and a kiss, then promptly disappeared.
That left Jack, who showed no sign of departing in the near future. Well, Charlotte needed to talk to her daughter, so she intended on waiting him out. “Tell me all about the baby,” she said, settling in for a long visit. “Did James and Selina like the blanket I knit?” Then sighing, she added, “I do hope you brought back pictures.”
“I sure did. Oh, Mother, she’s so beautiful.”
“See you Wednesday?” Jack asked, sounding a little dispirited.
Olivia hesitated a moment, then nodded. Apparently she’d just agreed to a date, which cheered Charlotte immensely. She didn’t want Olivia to be alone the rest of her life, and she liked Jack Griffin.
“I should be heading out, too,” Jack said reluctantly—as though he wanted Olivia to ask him to stay.
She didn’t. One look from Jack told Charlotte he wanted to be alone with Olivia, but she wasn’t budging.
Soon enough he’d departed. Privacy at last. Charlotte released a deep sigh. Olivia sat down next to her with a glass of wine, feet propped up on the coffee table. “It’s been quite a week.”
“For me, too,” Charlotte said excitedly.
“You heard from Roy?”
Charlotte grinned widely. “Yes, and guess what? Tom has a grandson living right outside Purdy.” The town was only a few miles down Highway 16 from Cedar Cove. Charlotte was thrilled with the news. In her heart of hearts, she’d known Tom had chosen to spend his last days in Cedar Cove for a reason.
“His name’s Cliff Harding. Ever heard of him?”
“Can’t say I have.” Olivia rubbed her eyes, and Charlotte could tell that her daughter was tired.
“He raises quarter horses.” Roy had told her that, along with the other information he’d unearthed. Cliff was a Boeing engineer who’d opted for an early retirement. He’d moved to the Kitsap Peninsula five years earlier.
“I suspected Tom had family in the area.” Charlotte felt downright proud of that.
“Yes, you did.”
“I didn’t want to be intrusive, so I wrote Cliff to ask him to get in touch.” The letter had gone out the very day she’d heard the news, but to her disappointment, she hadn’t heard back from him.
“That’s great, Mom.”
“I thought so, too.” She finished her wine, and then, because it was obvious that her daughter wasn’t in the mood for more company, Charlotte decided it was time to leave.
After a quick peek at the pictures, she gathered her things. Olivia made a token protest, then escorted her to the door.
“I’m glad you had a good trip. And I’m thrilled about James.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Olivia hugged her. “Did you feel this elation when you first became a grandmother?”
It hadn’t been so long ago that Charlotte had forgotten. “Twins, no less. That was one of the happiest days of my life.”
“And mine,” Olivia told her, but a sadness came over her, a sadness Charlotte felt, too, as they remembered Jordan and the happy, carefree boy he’d been.
On her drive home, she thought about Cliff Harding. He would certainly have received her letter but for some reason had either put off answering, or—worse—decided not to answer at all.
Perhaps she should have called, instead.
Yes, that was what she should’ve done, all right.
Unable to resist, as soon as she walked into the house, Charlotte located his number, which Roy had given her.
The phone rang four times before the receiver was abruptly lifted.
“Harding,” said a gruff male voice.
“Jefferson,” she returned in the same clipped tones. “Charlotte Jefferson.”
Silence.
“I’m phoning to see if you got my letter,” she explained. She knew he most likely had but that seemed the easiest way to introduce her subject.
“I got it.”
Charlotte paused, wishing she’d thought this through more carefully. “Perhaps right now is a bad time?”
“It’s as good a time as any. Basically, I’m not interested in anything to do with my grandfather.”
Charlotte frowned in disapproval. “I’m sure you’re going to reconsider when you see what I have.”
“Listen, Mrs. Jefferson, I realize you mean well, but—”
“Were you aware that your grandfather recently died right here in Cedar Cove?”
“Your letter said as much.”
“Mr. Harding, I have risked a great deal to find you.”
“I’m not ungrateful, but—”
“I could do jail time for what I’ve done and at seventy-two, I don’t intend to spend the rest of my life rooming with someone named Big Bertha.”
He howled with laughter. How dared this young man be amused when she was dead serious?
“What exactly did you do to risk facing Big Bertha?”
Charlotte told him, sparing none of the details. “I have everything under my bed.”
“That’s probably the first place the sheriff will look, don’t you think?”
Charlotte suspected he was still mocking her—a little bit, anyway—but she gave him a straightforward reply. “I did think of that, but my knees are too tired to be traipsing up and down the basement stairs.”
“My suggestion is that you give it all back to the state. Let the authorities sell it and recoup whatever expense they put out on my grandfather’s behalf.”
“You
