“I think it was more about the memories they evoked,” I said, surprising myself with the answer. The way Barton Lane had held that paperback had struck a chord with me, and I could remember my mom doing the same thing with the Christmas ornaments my grandmother had made for her.
“You’re right. I never really put that together. You’ve grown into quite a woman, you know that, don’t you?”
“Sometimes I wonder,” I said.
“Well, you can stop. I’m proud of you, Savannah. I never told you that enough growing up, but I mean to do it now.”
“I’m proud of you, too,” I said.
That elicited a laugh. “And why is that?”
“You’ve endured more than your share of hardships over the years, and yet you haven’t let any of it beat you down.”
“Losing my Celia almost killed me,” he admitted.
“But you pulled yourself through.”
“With the help of family and friends and the Good Lord above.” He paused, and then said, “I’ll let you go, but thanks for calling me. I love you, Savannah.”
“I love you, too, Uncle Thomas.”
After we hung up, I nearly forgot about my other message. I hit the play button again, and was happy to hear Zach’s voice.
“I don’t care what time it is when you get this, or what you think I might be doing. Call me. I miss you, if you can believe that. I know it’s just been a handful of hours since we saw each other, but what can I say? I’m kind of used to having you around.”
I hit the save button on the phone so I could replay that sweet message whenever I wanted to. I’d been reticent to call him before, but with his blessing, I couldn’t dial my husband’s telephone number fast enough.
“Can you talk?” I asked after he grunted his name.
“Savannah. Hey, how are you?”
“I’m well. Are you at a stopping place?”
“Sure,” he said with a sigh. “That’s as nice a way as any to say I’ve hit a dead end.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Trust me, it’s not you. I keep pounding my head against the wall, but all I’m getting is banged up and bruised.”
“Then maybe you should stop doing that,” I said with a laugh.
“Could be. How did the meeting with Barton Lane go?”
“We had dinner together after I gave him what I’d found in Cindy’s apartment, except for the skiing photograph, of course. You’re not jealous, are you?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“What did you have? I’m starving.”
I laughed at his response. “You should order a sandwich.”
“Yeah, I probably should before I collapse from hunger. Thinking’s hard work. Hang on.” After a minute, he got back on. “I sent Joe out. He’s a nice enough guy, but he’s not Steve.”
“Any idea when your helper will be back?”
“He’s supposed to pick me up tomorrow morning at the hotel, but we’ll see. You know I was just teasing you about the food. I trust you with my heart and my life, Savannah.” There was another pause, and then he asked, “Nothing happened, did it?”
“Of course it didn’t. He made me pancakes.”
“You mean he ordered them from room service,” Zach said.
“No, he mixed up the batter and cooked them for me himself.”
“Okay, now I’m jealous. It’s one thing to order room service, but I can’t imagine him waiting on you.”
That was better. It was good to hear a twinge in his voice, regardless of how much I loved him.
“Relax, he’s old enough to be my father.”
“It’s not like that hasn’t happened before with rich, older men.”
It was my turn to laugh. “Zachary Stone, I’m many things, but a trophy wife candidate is surely not among them.”
“I don’t know about that. I think you’re a prize,” he said.
“Right back at you. Have you had any luck so far?”
The frustration in his voice was clear as he said, “Not that you could tell. We know these murders are connected, but other than through Grady, I can’t find a single common denominator between them. There has to be something else tying her to Hank Tristan’s life. Grady might know of something, but we can’t ask him, can
