Don't Say a Word - Barbara Freethy [31]
"All right," Julia replied, without making further comment.
He was surprised by her restraint. He was also surprised that he'd told her as much as he had. But it was too late to take it back now. "The negatives are in that box," he said abruptly, moving toward the coffee table.
Julia followed him across the room and sat down on the couch. For some reason her silence really annoyed him. He told himself to forget about it, forget about her, and get down to business. Then he made the mistake of looking into her eyes, of seeing warmth, compassion, understanding, and the ice around his heart cracked just a little. Damn her.
"Just say it," he ordered.
"Say what?"
"Whatever you're thinking, so we can get past it."
"I think we should look for that negative," she said.
"You don't want to talk about my mother or what I just told you?" He still couldn't quite believe it.
Most women he knew were insanely curious when it came to his personal life.
"What's important is that you don't want to talk about it," she replied. "I can respect that."
"Good." He sat down on the edge of a chair and pulled the box over to him. His breath caught in his chest as he saw the photo lying on top of a pile of papers. It wasn't one of his father's famous historical pictures. It was a family portrait taken when they were still a family. At six years old he'd sat between his parents with a happy smile, believing that his life would always be wonderful. Why the hell was he doing this? He didn't want to go back into the past. There was nothing there for him. "I don't need this," he muttered, setting the photo on the table.
"What is it?" Julia asked, as she picked up the picture. She paused, then said, "You all look so happy." "Sometimes pictures do lie, especially when the subjects know they're being photographed. That's why I always try to take candid shots where I can capture the real feelings, the real emotions. None of that phony smile crap."
"Maybe it wasn't phony at the time," she suggested. "Two years after that photo was taken, my parents separated. They would have officially divorced if my father hadn't died in the meantime." "I'm sorry, Alex."
"Yeah, well, it's not a big deal," he replied. "I'm surprised you didn't grow closer to your mother after your father died," Julia said. "It was just the two of you."
"She's the one who split up the family. I was extremely pissed off at her. By the time I wasn't angry anymore, she was dating and planning her second wedding." Alex tossed her a pile of photos and negatives. "Start looking through those."
For the next hour there was nothing but blessed silence as they both went through the photos, prints, press clippings, negatives, and other assorted papers in the box. "It's not here," Alex said with annoyance. He'd been so sure they would find the negative. "I don't understand it. Everything else is here, including the other negatives from that trip."
"I guess it was a long shot. In twenty-five years anything could have happened to it." Julia picked up an envelope and her eyes narrowed. "This is weird. It's addressed to Sarah. That was my mother's name." A chill ran through him as her gaze met his. Another coincidence? Or a clue?
"There's nothing in it, though. It's empty," Julia said, shaking out the envelope. "It couldn't have been addressed to my mother, could it?" "Of course not."
"There are probably a million Sarahs in the world. Just like there