The great room had natural heart pine floors that might have looked bare were it not for the plush colorful rugs scattered throughout the room. She walked over and sat down in an overstuffed brown leather chair that was situated near the stone fireplace. Her eyes went to the open ceiling and exposed rafters. One of the pictures hanging on the wall caught her attention. A Ben Hampton print titledRambling Rose. It had been years since she’d seen one of those prints. This picture was one of two in a series. One print had pink roses and the other had blue.
Avery always said that Walter had two loves: football and hunting, in that order. She was reminded of the latter when she saw the mounted head of an eight-point buck on one of the walls. It was surrounded by prints of mallard ducks. A balcony wound around three sides of the room. The living room was a good size to begin with, but the open ceiling gave the illusion of never-ending space. The sitting area was arranged to face the glass wall so that the panoramic view of the lake took center stage.
Maurene entered the room and walked to the bar in the corner. “Walter’ll be down in a jiffy.”
“Thank you.”
Maurene’s hands shook when she poured herself a drink. She looked back at Sydney. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thank you.” There was something not quite right about Maurene.
Both Maurene and Sydney watched Walter descend the stairs.
He smiled affectionately and took both of Sydney’s hands in his. “Hello, dear. You are a beautiful woman,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I probably should’ve called first.”
Walter brushed aside her apology. “Nonsense. You’re welcome here anytime. It’s good to see you,” he said in that low comforting voice that Sydney remembered.
She studied Walter, trying to reconcile this living flesh-and-blood person with the memory from her childhood. He’d been a distant figure then, a friend of her dad’s. Nothing more. He was a little heavier than she remembered and walked with a slower gait. Gray sprinkled his once jet-black hair. And except for a slight receding line, it was still thick. She searched his brown eyes. What did she remember about them? They were kind. That was it. She was relieved to see they still held the same compassion.
“It’s good to see you too,” she said. Walter ushered her to the sofa and sat down beside her. All doubts about coming to see him fled.
Maurene walked to the sitting area and stood with one hand resting on the loveseat. Walter looked at Maurene, and Sydneythought she detected a look of disapproval on his face when his eyes got to the glass of whiskey. She wondered how such a distinguished man could have ended up with her.
“Maurene, this is Sydney Lassiter. She’s the new safety coordinator down at the mill.”
“So I’ve heard.” Maurene took a big gulp from her glass.
Walter cleared his throat. “Dear, Miss Lassiter and I are going to be discussing the sawmill.” He motioned to the empty loveseat. “You’re welcome to join us.”
“No, I have some other things to attend to. If you’ll excuse me …” Maurene sauntered from the room.
Sydney couldn’t help but smile inwardly. Walter didn’t want Maurene to hear their conversation any more than she did. He knew just what to say to get rid of her.
Walter leaned back into the comfort of the plush sofa and crossed his legs. He reached in his shirt pocket and retrieved a cigar. “Now, shall I call you Cindy or Sydney?” He struck a match on his shoe and cupped it in his hands, lighting his cigar.
His candor caught her off-guard. “Um, Sydney’s fine.”
“How’s your job?”
“It’s working out just fine. I’ve got my work cut out for me. That’s for sure, but I’m adjusting.” She cleared her throat. She wanted to set things straight from the beginning. “Walter, I just want to thank you for putting in a good word for me. You’re the reason I got the job.”
Walter didn’t make any pretense of denying what they both knew was the truth. “It was the least I could do.” He looked away from her and out the window. “Avery was like a brother to me.”
Sydney swallowed. “He felt the same way about you.”
Walter nodded, and Sydney could tell from the faraway look in his eye that he was remembering. Finally he shook his head. “Look at you. The last time I saw you, you were a lanky teenager. Where in the world have you been all this time? I could’ve swornyou’d dropped off the face of the earth. The last I heard, you’d gone out of the country with your aunt.”
Sydney nodded. Judith had taken her to Paris a month after she’d been released from the hospital. “It’s to celebrate the beginning of our new life together,” Judith said. Now Sydney wondered if the trip abroad had been Judith’s way of protecting her. Sydney looked at Walter and realized that he was still speaking.
“I talked to your grandmother. She’d lost touch with you. We tried to find out how badly you were injured. And now after all these years, you can imagine how shocked I was when you called me about working at the mill.”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it some day.” His silence let her know that he wasn’t going to press her. She was grateful for that. “Does Maurene know about me?”
“No, I haven’t told her. When you called, you mentioned that you were using another name. I assumed that you wished to preserve your anonymity.” He looked her in the eye. “I suppose you have your reasons.”
“Yes, thank you.” She chose her next words with care. “I want to find out what really happened to my dad.”