Page 14 of Bringing Chelsea Home

“They’re not your children!” Griff shouted. “Their father was an American serviceman!”

“When we need them for the war? How foolish and naïve you Americans are. I enjoyed working with you, Griffin Tyler. Even more screwing you. But you cannot take our future soldiers. Goodbye…

“Griff?”

He blinked and found Elaine staring at him, lips parted in concern. “Where’d you go?”

“Sorry,” he muttered as his leg began to throb. “Just an old memory paying a visit. Let’s finish our coffee and do that workout before we go talk to Elizabeth Burke.”

CHAPTER7

Later that morning.

Carson’s Restaurant

“Elizabeth Burke?”Elaine asked the young woman behind the hostess stand. Patrick had picked them up and dropped them off here in the refurbished LTD before taking it to be detailed. He was, as Griff told her, a real stickler for a clean car, even if it wasn’t his.

“That’s me.” She pointed at her name tag pinned to her right shoulder and smiled. “How can I help you?”

“You sent this to Sister Bernie because you needed to talk to her.” Elaine handed her the copy ofCarson’smenu sent to St. Nicholas. She and Griff had stopped by to pick it up.

Elizabeth’s skin paled and she gripped the edges of the stand, but defiance showed her eyes. “Who are you?”

“Elaine Prescott from Families United.” Elaine dug her work photo ID from her purse, showed it and pointed at Griff. “This is Lieutenant Griffin Tyler, USMC.” She offered no explanation for Griff’s presence, and when Elizabeth didn’t ask for one, Elaine added, “We need to speak to you about Sister Bernie, please. Why did you send her that menu?”

Elizabeth beckoned them to follow her and led them to a black linen-draped table in the back of the house. Around them servers in black trousers, knee length black aprons and long sleeve white blouses were rolling silver, filling water pitchers or checking the tables’ salt and pepper cellars.

When they were seated, Elizabeth said, “I recognize you now. I heard you speak at a fundraiser last year with Sister Bernie. You’re-you were her friend.”

“That’s right,” Elaine confirmed, doing a quick appraisal of the woman’s appearance. Almost as tall as she was and of much the same age. “Why did you send the menu?”

“I can’t believe she’s dead,” Elizabeth rasped. “I just saw her at the clinic last week.”

“Are you alright?” Elaine asked. “Health wise, I mean.” Elizabeth Burke looked like she needed several good, home-cooked meals but her auburn hair, make-up and nails were meticulous.

“I’m fine,” Elizabeth admitted. “Growing up, I didn’t always get enough to eat, so I grew up skinny. I love sweets, but Sister Bernie was always pushing for me to eat lots of vegetables and whole grains and stuff like that.”

“That sounds just like her,” Elaine agreed. “She took good care of you, didn’t she?”

Elizabeth’s green-eyed gaze flickered around the elegant room with its soft lighting and plush chairs before returning it to stare at them. “She got me out of Memphis years ago,” she confided, her voice barely audible. “I heard my old man threatened to put a price on her head if he could find her when I first got here.”

“You mean your pimp?” Griff’s question was equally soft, but respectful.

“Yeah,” Elizabeth said again. She cocked her head at him but spoke to Elaine. “Are you sure he’s on the up and up?”

“As right as right can be,” Elaine assured. “Can you please tell us why you needed to talk to Sister Bernie? Maybe we can help.”

Elizabeth considered a moment, then leaned forward. “I get a mani/pedi every other week at a place over on Central called Happy Endings,” she shared softly. “Sometimes I get a facial and massage. They want us to look good here.”

“A girl has to take care of herself,” Elaine declared, hoping this statement of female solidarity would let down Elizabeth’s guard. "AndCarson’sis a very high-end, high-class place.”

“I always feel better when I look good, you know?” There was no mistaking Elizabeth’s defensive tone. “I may not be in “the life” anymore but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try to look my best for myself, right?”

“And while you were taking care of yourself at the salon, you heard something, didn’t you?” Griff guessed. “Something you needed to tell Sister Bernie?”

Surprise raised her eyebrows and then she grinned, making her even prettier. “You’re a smart one, aren’t you?”

“I have sisters.” Griff’s answering grin invited confidences. “They told me you can hear all kinds of stuff at salons.”

---