When Shadows Fall (Callaways #7)

by Barbara Freethy

  "It does make me feel less guilty for staying on the other side of the country."

  "Do you think you'd ever come back to California?"

  "I don't know. That is not a question for a person who is trying to live in the moment."

  "Point taken. Tell me more."

  "That's really all the family I have."

  "Then tell me about your friends."

  "Why so curious?" she challenged.

  He grinned. "I'm trying to distract myself from moving to the other side of this table."

  "Maybe I should go back to my hotel."

  "No, let's keep talking."

  "Okay," she agreed, because she didn't really want to leave.

  As they talked, the moon rose higher in the sky and the air grew cold. Just before midnight they moved their conversation back to Colton's apartment. He handed her a blanket, and she cozied up on the couch while he made popcorn.

  And then they talked some more.

  At some point, she mentioned going back to her hotel again, but Colton's car was at his grandmother's house, and he would need to collect that, and she would need to find her way across town, and in the end she stretched out on the couch, the length of the day finally catching up to her as she drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  Colton watched Olivia's eyelids close. He smiled, realizing she'd fallen asleep in mid-sentence, but she was exhausted. He was tired but also wired. They'd been together for hours, but he hadn't wanted her to leave, hadn't wanted her to stop talking. He couldn't remember the last time he'd stayed up until—he checked his watch—two o'clock in the morning just talking to a woman.

  He got up and pulled the blanket over her shoulders. She didn't stir. Her lips were parted slightly, her cheeks a soft pink, her lashes long and black. Her hair fell over her shoulders in beautiful waves, and he had to fight back the urge to run his hands through her hair, to wake her up and kiss her again.

  He could still taste her mouth on his lips, and he wanted more. He liked her—a lot. But she was leaving in a few days, and that he didn't like. He'd always thought of sex as simple, but being with Olivia felt complicated.

  He'd like to think that tomorrow might bring clarity to the situation, but he had a feeling once they returned to Olivia's book project, the complications were only going to multiply, and he still had his grandmother's interests to protect.

  He got up and headed down the hall to his bedroom, hoping that there wasn't going to come a point when he would have to choose between Olivia and his grandmother. Hopefully, they would all stay on the same side…

  Chapter Fifteen

  Olivia woke up with a pain in her neck. She stretched and yawned, taking a sleepy minute to realize she was on the couch in Colton's apartment. The sun was shining brightly through the windows, and a glance at her watch told her it was almost nine.

  She shot up into a sitting position. She hadn't slept this long in forever. She was usually up by seven. The long night of talking had taken its toll. Glancing down the hall, she saw that Colton's door was ajar, but she couldn't hear anyone moving. Was he also still asleep?

  She got up and used the bathroom in the hall. She splashed cold water on her face and ran a brush through her hair, then made her way back into the living room just as Colton came through the front door.

  He wore running shorts and a t-shirt that clung to his muscled chest and abs. His face was sweaty, his hair damp and curling from his run. Butterflies danced through her stomach. Was it possible that he actually looked more attractive after a workout than he had the night before? She swallowed back a knot in her throat.

  "Hey," he said with a warm smile. "You're up."

  "I slept in longer than I usually do."

  "We were up late."

  "Not too late for you, obviously. How far did you run?"

  "Not far—three miles."

  She smiled. "What do you consider far?"

  "Ten or more."

  "Seriously?"

  "I have to keep in shape so I can do my job. And while I might be grounded for a week because of my hand, I can still run. You weren't taking off, were you?"

  "I need to get back to work. Do you want me to give you a ride to pick up your car?"

  "That would be great. Can you wait while I take a quick shower?"

  "Sure. Do you have coffee? Or should I run out and find some?"

  "Coffeemaker is in the kitchen with plenty of coffee in the cupboard. Help yourself."

  "Thanks." She turned toward the kitchen, then paused. "Last night was fun, Colton."

  His eyes sparkled at her words. "I thought so, too."

  They looked at each other for a long moment, and then she forced herself to drop her gaze.

  Coffee, she told herself. Coffee, then work. No more fooling around with Colton.

  But as she made her way into the kitchen she couldn't help thinking that she'd let an opportunity slip through her fingers. She could have done a lot more than talk to Colton last night, but as usual she'd been unable to let her guard down.

  Well, whatever happened, at least she wouldn't be going back to New York with a broken heart—at least she hoped not.

  * * *

  A half hour later, Olivia was back in the driver's seat, following Colton's directions to his grandmother's house. "Do you think I could speak to your grandmother this morning? I know I'm supposed to meet her and the other women at the senior center at noon, but I'd like to talk to her before then." She glanced over at Colton when he didn't immediately reply and saw indecision in his expression. "You're not thinking about trying to keep me from speaking to your grandmother, are you?"

  "I am supposed to be keeping the two of you apart," he said with a sigh.

  "Aren't we past that, Colton?"

  "We are."

  "Good, because I need to ask Eleanor about the birth certificate we found. I also want to find out what she knows about Francine's baby." She paused. "I realize I'm more concerned now about my personal ties to the Harpers, but I have to figure that out first so I can focus on the rest of the story."

  "The abused women and the underground railroad."

  She nodded. "Yes."

  "I guess I should be happy that for now you're concentrating on the Harpers."

  She smiled. "So we can talk to your grandmother before she goes to the senior center? Because I would like any discussion of Francine and her daughter to be done away from the rest of the group."

  He nodded in understanding. "Okay, we'll see if Grandma is up and willing to talk."

  "Great."

  "Can I ask you something, Olivia?"

  "What's that?"

  "What do you want the answer to be? Do you want Molly to be your grandmother?"

  That was a complicated question. "The truth is—I don't know. I guess part of me wants to know where I come from, and this is the first and only lead I've ever had as far as my biological parents are concerned. But another part of me isn't quite ready to go down that road."

  "What are you afraid of?"

  "I'm not sure, but considering the way Molly contacted me, I can't help but feel a little wary. My gut tells me that there are minefields ahead, and I should be careful where I step." She paused and gave him a quick look. "You probably think I'm being overly dramatic."

  "Actually, I don't. Hopefully, my grandmother can clear the path of some of those minefields. Turn left at the next corner."

  As she drove slowly down a pretty tree-lined street of Victorian apartment buildings mixed in with what appeared to be single home residences, she said, "Have your grandparents lived here long?"

  "At least fifteen years. They used to have a big three-story house in the Marina, but they downsized a while back. Looks like there's plenty of parking today. You got lucky."

  "I hope my luck continues," she said as she parked the car.

  A few minutes later, they rang Eleanor's bell. A middle-aged woman wearing what appeared to be a nurse's uniform opened the door.

  "H
ello, Donna," Colton said. "Is my grandmother awake and up to seeing me?"

  "She's just finishing her breakfast, but I'm sure she'll be happy to see you," the nurse said with a smile. "She's been having some good days lately. Come on in."

  Olivia followed Colton into the house. His grandparents' home was beautiful and tastefully decorated in warm, rich, vibrant colors. The rooms were quite a contrast to Colton's sparsely furnished apartment. "You should get your grandmother to help you decorate," she murmured.

  "She's never been in my apartment. I think she would be horrified. She's always liked antiques and art."

  "I can see that. She has excellent taste."

  "My grandfather does, too—surprisingly, or maybe my grandmother just rubbed off on him after sixty years."

  She couldn't imagine being married that long to anyone. Their relationship was certainly an amazing testament to their love.

  Colton opened the door to the kitchen. Eleanor sat at a small round table. She'd pushed her empty plate to one side and was perusing a magazine while sipping a cup of tea. She looked up and gave them both a happy smile.

  "Oh, my, isn't this a lovely surprise," she said.

  Colton gave his grandmother a kiss on the cheek, and Olivia found the moment endearing. Every time she turned around, Colton seemed to show her another side, and each side was more appealing than the last.

  "I hope you don't mind us interrupting your breakfast," Olivia said. "I wanted to ask you a few questions before we meet later with the rest of the group."

  "Of course, please sit down. And, goodness, you're not interrupting anything. I love to have company."

  Olivia sat down at the table across from Eleanor with Colton taking the seat next to his grandmother. She could see that Colton was giving her the lead, she just didn't know what to do with it. After a moment of indecision, she decided to just jump right in. "Colton and I went to Molly's house yesterday, and we found some interesting items."

  "Really?" Eleanor asked, curiosity in her blue eyes. "What did you find?"

  "A birth certificate for a baby girl born on June 7, 1988. The only name filled in was for the mother, Francine Harper."

  "Molly's daughter," Eleanor said with a nod. "Francine was a troubled girl. Molly was very upset when Francine got pregnant, because Francine didn't have the means to raise a child, and even if money weren't an issue, Francine had a lot of emotional problems. In the end, Francine decided to give the child up for adoption. It was a very sad time."

  Knots tightened in Olivia's stomach. "Do you know what happened to the child?"

  "No. It was a closed adoption. I believe that's the right term." Eleanor paused. "Unfortunately, after she gave up her baby, Francine went into a downward spiral, and she ended up overdosing a year later. It was just as well the baby went to a loving family." Eleanor looked at Olivia with a question in her eyes. "What did I say, Olivia? You look a little upset."

  "My birthday is June 7, 1988, Eleanor. And I was adopted. I'm wondering if there's a chance that I'm that baby girl—if I'm Francine's daughter and Molly's granddaughter."

  Eleanor's eyes widened. "Oh, my goodness. That's really your birthday?"

  "It is. And I wondered if Molly wrote to me because she knew I was her granddaughter."

  "She never said that to me, Olivia. Not one word. In fact, we haven't spoken of Francine's daughter in twenty years."

  Eleanor's clear blue eyes were completely without guile, and Olivia had to accept that Eleanor was telling her the truth. "Okay," she said, not sure where to go next.

  Eleanor frowned. "You're upset."

  "I'm just confused. I'm trying to figure out if there's a connection between me and Molly or if my having the same birth date as Molly's granddaughter is just a coincidence."

  "I can see how that would be upsetting. It is a bit odd. And…"

  "And what?" she prodded.

  "Your eyes do remind me of Molly," Eleanor mused, giving her a long look. "I suppose it's not completely impossible that Molly had her own reasons for contacting you. Do you have any information about your biological parents?"

  "I don't. Do you think Peter Harper would know anything?"

  Eleanor frowned for the first time since they'd arrived. "Peter would probably be unwilling to speak to you. He was a sullen boy who grew up to be an angry, bitter man. He's been terrible to his mother and barely civil to me, and I've known him since he was a toddler."

  Eleanor's words certainly corroborated what Olivia had already seen in her brief meeting with Peter.

  "However," Eleanor continued. "It's possible that Peter knew something about where her baby ended up."

  "How did Molly end up with such screwed-up kids?" Colton asked. "Was it because their father died?"

  Eleanor's lips tightened. "Their father was not a good person."

  "What can you tell me about Stan, about his death?" Olivia asked, seeing dark shadows gather in Eleanor's eyes. "And when did he die? Was it before you started the theater group or after? I assume it was before Francine got pregnant."

  "And how did the fire start?" Colton asked. "Where was Molly at the time?"

  "I—I don't. I can't. I…" Eleanor's face paled and her eyes darted around the room.

  Olivia didn't know if they'd confused her with the barrage of questions or what, but Eleanor seemed suddenly very agitated.

  "Patrick? Where's Patrick?" Eleanor questioned, shifting nervously in her chair. "Patrick says not to talk. Bad to talk."

  Olivia sat straighter in her seat, taken aback by Eleanor's now rambling and cryptic words.

  "Secret. Must keep secret." Eleanor nodded her head up and down as her gaze flitted around the room.

  "What secret?" Olivia asked.

  "Can't tell. Can't tell. Can't tell."

  "Grandma," Colton cut into her chant. "It's okay, you don't have to talk."

  "Who—are you?" she asked in alarm, shrinking from Colton as he tried to put a hand on her shoulder.

  "Olivia, get the nurse," Colton said sharply.

  She nodded, jumping to her feet. It was the first time she'd seen evidence of Eleanor's illness, and it shocked her at how quickly it had come on. The happy, cheerful woman who had offered them tea had completely vanished.

  Olivia found the nurse knitting in the living room. "Mrs. Callaway needs you."

  "Oh, dear," Donna replied as she stood up. "She's been having such a good run lately, I was hoping it would continue."

  Olivia followed Donna back into the kitchen. She stood just inside the room as Donna attended to Eleanor, talking slowly and quietly, trying to get her to focus on her. Eleanor seemed to be calming down, but her gaze was completely blank. It was as if her soul had left her body.

  "You should go," the nurse told them.

  Colton hesitated, but then gave a nod. They walked out of the kitchen and down the hall, not stopping until they were outside.

  As they paused in front of Eleanor's house, Olivia could feel the anger and frustration building inside Colton.

  "I'm sorry," she said.

  "I shouldn’t have let you go in there. I should have done what my grandfather asked me to do—keep the two of you apart. But I didn't listen. And I didn't just sit there, either. I asked her questions, too. I upset her. Damn." He waved a hand in the air. "What the hell was I thinking?"

  She didn't know how to answer that. She supposed she should be glad he wasn't putting all the blame on her. On the other hand, she felt bad for him. He was kicking himself hard, and what had happened was in fact more her fault than his. "I talked you into it," she said. "You were trying to help me."

  "I just hope she can bounce back."

  "Does she usually recover quickly? Or does it take a while?"

  "It depends. I don't know." He blew out a breath. "My mom is coming here this morning. I'll stick around until she gets here. You can go."

  "Okay." She didn't really want to leave, but she didn't think her presence was going to help anything. "I hope your grandmothe
r will be all right. Will you call me later and let me know?

  "Sure."

  They exchanged numbers and then she returned to her car.

  Sliding behind the wheel, a dozen emotions ran through her. She felt guilty for her part in upsetting Eleanor. But she was also intensely curious about the secret Eleanor had mentioned and still unsure of whether or not she was Molly's granddaughter. Eleanor hadn't been able to confirm their relationship, so she would have to try someone else, and the only person left was Peter Harper.

  Chapter Sixteen

  After returning to her hotel, Olivia got on her computer and searched for information on Peter Harper. It wasn't difficult to find since Peter was vice president of the Cormellon Financial Group, a group of apparently incredibly profitable venture capitalists who were building a new hotel in downtown San Francisco.

  She found a picture of Peter and the mayor wearing hardhats at a construction site with a headline reading: Winthrop Building Gets A New Life.

  She scanned the article to discover that Peter's financial investment group was razing the remains of a badly destroyed building in order to build a new hotel. The building had been in disrepair for almost a decade, having been destroyed by a tragic fire that took the lives of two firefighters. Apparently the construction of the original building had not been up to code and subsequent lawsuits had bankrupted that company. The site had been left untouched until the Cormellon Group decided to get involved. The city of San Francisco was thrilled to have the blight on its skyline removed.

  Peter Harper looked happy in the photograph, and why wouldn't he? He was doing something wonderful for the city.

  Maybe he was a good man. Eleanor hadn't really led her to that conclusion, and her own first impression had not been a good one, but perhaps she'd judged him too hastily. Peter's mother was dying. It was only normal for him to be angry and upset. She grabbed her phone and punched in the telephone number before she could change her mind.

  A woman answered, "Cormellon Group".

  "Is Peter Harper available?"

  "No, I'm sorry, he's out of the office. Would you like to leave a voicemail?"