Free Twice in a Lifetime by Marta Perry Page B

Matthew Harper’s clients, too?”
    “I’m a very small cog in the wheel right now,” he said. He swung his hand in a gesture that encompassed the whole office. “I feel like a fraud sometimes, sitting in the midst of all this Southern elegance. This was Rod’s brother-in-law’s office, before he ran off with his secretary.”
    “I remember. That news traveled all the way to Atlanta.
    So Rodney brought you in to replace him.”
    “Not exactly.” He felt compelled to be more open with her than he’d been with most people he’d met here. “Rod was being a friend. He knew I wanted to leave Boston for a fresh start after Jennifer’s death, and he made it possible.”
    Georgia’s gaze lit on something on his desk. Without turning, he felt quite sure it was the silver-framed photo of Jennifer.
    “Is that Jennifer?”
    Nodding, he lifted the frame and handed it to her. “That was taken on our honeymoon.”
    Jennifer sat on a rock in the black-and-white photo, staring out at a foggy sea. The wind whipped her hair around her face, and her hands were clasped around her knees. They’d gone up the Maine coast, dawdling in one small town after another, with no set destination and no timetable to keep.
    “She was very beautiful.” Georgia stared at the image for a moment longer, as if it would tell her something about him. Then she handed it back. “Thank you for letting me see it. Lindsay’s like her, isn’t she?”
    He nodded, throat tightening. Most of the time he
    ignored the resemblance, but sometimes a turn of the head or a quick, light movement brought hot tears to his eyes.
    He cleared his throat. “What can I do for Miz Callie today?”
    Georgia bent to pick up a folder she’d placed on the floor next to her handbag. “These are the notes she came up with last night—names, dates, addresses.” She handed him the folder.
    He flipped it open, then leaned over so she could see it, too. As she’d said, names and addresses, birth dates, death dates, all in Miz Callie’s fine, spidery writing.
    “Is this information you’d be familiar with?”
    She traced a fingertip down the page. “Pretty much, although I’d never have come up with the dates.” She pointed to an address on King Street in Charleston. “That’s the house Miz Callie lived in before she got the idea to move out to the island full-time. I guess Granddad inherited it from his parents after Ned…” She paused. “After Ned left. Or died.” Her gaze met his. “I mean, he was older than my grandfather by several years, so he’s probably dead by now, don’t you think?”
    “Hard to say. You’d think, if he were alive, he’d have gotten in touch with the family sometime in all these years.”
    She shrugged, frowning. “True. But if he died, you’d think the family would have been notified.”
    “Maybe, maybe not. It depends on the circumstances and how well he’d created a new life.”
    Her frown deepened. “It’s not impossible, is it? To find the answers my grandmother wants?”
    “Not impossible.” He wouldn’t sugarcoat it for her. “But it may be very difficult. And even if we find the answers, they may not make her happy.”
    Georgia sighed deeply, running a hand through her hair.
    He smiled. “I understand the frustration, believe me. It’s not the first time a client has insisted on doing something I advised against.”
    “At least you’re not going up against the rest of the family, too.”
    “I wouldn’t count on that. I’ve already had visits from your father and your uncle.”
    “I’m sorry about that.”
    She looked so distressed that he nearly laughed. “Don’t worry, Georgia. Your father was the soul of
    politeness.”
    “He would be. Not Uncle Brett, though, I’ll bet. It was Brett, wasn’t it, and not Harrison?”
    “Yes. Do I have another one to look forward to?”
    “I hope not.” She seemed relieved by his light tone. “They just want to protect Miz Callie, you know.”
    “I know.