Don't Say a Word - Barbara Freethy [23]
They'd never recovered his father's body. The cur-rents were too strong. He'd been swept out to sea.
Was that true… or a convenient explanation to cover up something more sinister?
His mother had no proof of her suspicions. She said she'd mentioned her doubts to Stan, and Stan had told her that the police report was clear that it was an accident.
They'd never found the other driver. There had been no witnesses.
Dammit. He hated all the doubts suddenly racing through his mind. Why had she brought it up now, after all these years? Just to throw him off? To create a mystery where there wasn't one? To make her widowhood even more dramatic? To get a bigger book deal?
His phone rang, and he reached for it, hoping it wasn't his mother calling him back with another bombshell. "Hello?"
"Alex, it's Julia. I found something in my mother's belongings. I want to show it to you."
"Where are you?"
"I'm at work right now. Can you meet me at my apartment in a half hour? It's in North Beach, 271 Lexington, apartment 2C."
"What did you find?"
"I don't want to get into it over the phone, and I just have a minute before I have to go back on the air."
"On the air?" he echoed.
"I host a radio show on KCLM 86.5. I've got to run. I'll see you soon."
Julia was a disc Jockey, Alex thought as he hung up the phone. That surprised him. He walked over to his Stereo and turned on the radio, just in time to hear her beautiful, sexy voice.
***
"You're listening to 'World Journeys with Julia,' " Julia said into the microphone. "Next up is Paolo Menendez, who brings us a delicious blend of reggae, calypso, and Caribbean rhythms from Cartagena on the Caribbean Coast." Julia flipped off the microphone and pushed the button on the Computer to Start the next set of songs.
She sat back in her chair, staring at the matryoshka doll. Since she'd discovered it in her mother's belongings, she'd been racking her brain trying to remember where it had come from. She remembered holding on to it really tightly, and for some odd reason she had the vague feeling that someone had tried to take it away from her and she'd started crying. She hadn't stopped until the person had given it back. Unfortunately, that person was just a dark shadow in her mind. It must have been her mother. It couldn't have been anyone else.
As she was putting the doll into her large brown leather handbag, the door to the control room opened, and Tracy Evanston walked into the room. A twenty-six-year-old African-American woman with dread-locks and a nose ring, Tracy hosted the three-to-five show featuring the best of jazz music.
"Hey," Tracy said. "I love this guy you have on now. Any chance we could get him to perform at the concert?"
"He wasn't available," Julia replied. "Believe me, I tried." It had been her job to book musicians for a special charity concert the Station was Sponsoring in the fall, and she'd been fortunate enough to get a good list of talent. They were hoping to raise enough money to fund music programs in the local schools, one of her pet projects.
"Too bad," Tracy replied. She tossed her keys down on the desk and picked up the schedule. "You are working too many hours, Julia. How are you going to do all this work and plan a wedding?"
Julia inwardly sighed at the mention of her wedding. "I don't know yet. I'll work it out."
"Why don't you take some time off? I'll happily take over some of your work. My little sis is off to college next year, and I want to help her if I can. So keep that in mind if you need to take off a few days. I can use the extra money."
"I will."
Tracy suddenly straightened, glancing out the glass window that led into the