Page 63 of For the Love of Lilah
“It was in the library yesterday,” he began, and filled her in on what he’d found.
“Christian Bradford,” Lilah said, trying out the name to see how it fit. “There’s something familiar about it. I wonder if I’ve seen some of his paintings. It wouldn’t be surprising if there were some in this area, since he lived here on and off. Died here.”
“Didn’t you study art in college?”
“I didn’t study at all unless I was boxed in. Mostly I drifted through, and art was always more a hobby than anything else. I didn’t want to work at it because I liked playing at it better. And I wanted to be a naturalist all along.”
“An ambition?” He grinned. “Lilah, you’ll ruin your image.”
“Well, it was my only one. Everybody’s entitled. Bradford, Bradford,” she repeated, gnawing at the word. “I’d swear it rings a bell.” She closed her eyes on it, opening them again when they pulled up at The Towers. “Got it. We knew a Bradford. He grew up on the island. Holt, Holt Bradford. The dark, broody, surly sort. He was a few years older—probably in his early thirties now. He left ten or twelve years ago, but it seems to me I heard he was back. He owns a cottage in the village. My God, Max, if he’s Christian’s grandson, it would be the same cottage.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. We’ll look into it, one step at a time.”
“If you have to be logical, I’ll talk to Suzanna. She knew him a little better. I remember that she knocked him off his motorcycle the first week she had her license.”
“I did not knock him off his motorcycle,” Suzanna denied, and sank her aching body into a hot, frothy tub. “He fell off his motorcycle when he failed to yield. I had the right-of-way.”
“Whatever.” Lilah sat on the edge of the tub. “What do we know about him?”
“He has a nasty temper. I thought he was going to murder me that day. He wouldn’t have scraped himself all up if he’d been wearing protective gear.”
“I mean his background, not his personality.”
Weary, Suzanna opened her eyes. Ordinarily the bathroom was the only place she could find true peace and privacy. Now even that had been invaded. “Why?”
“I’ll tell you after. Come on, Suze.”
“All right, let me think. He was ahead of me in school. Three or four years, I think. Most of the girls were crazy about him because he looked dangerous. His mother was very nice.”
“I remember,” Lilah murmured. “She came to the house after...”
“Yes, after Mom and Dad were killed. She used to do handwork. She’d done some lovely pieces for Mom. We still have some of them, I think. And her husband was a lobsterman. He was lost at sea when we were teenagers. I really don’t remember that much.”
“Did you ever talk to him?”
“Who, Holt? Not really. He’d sort of swagger around and glare. When we had that little accident he mostly swore at me. Then he went off somewhere—Portland. I remember because Mrs. Marsley was talking about him just the other day when I was selling her some climbing roses. He was a cop for a while, but there was some kind of incident, and he gave it up.”
“What kind of incident?”
“I don’t know. Whenever she starts I just let it flow in one ear and on out. I think he’s repairing boats or something.”
“He never talked about his family with you?”
“Why in the world should he? And why would you care?”
“Because Christian’s last name was Bradford, and he had a cottage on the island.”
“Oh.” Suzanna let out a long breath as she absorbed the information. “Isn’t that just our luck?”
Lilah left her sister to soak, and set off to find Max. Before she could go into his room, Coco waylaid her.
“Oh, there you are.”
“Darling, you look frazzled.” Lilah kissed her cheek.
“And who wouldn’t be? That woman...” Coco took a deep calming breath. “I’m doing twenty minutes of yoga every morning just to cope. Be a dear and take this in to her.”
“What is it?”
