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By Root 616 0

slacks and a charcoal gray cashmere sweater. He was obviously a man who liked to dress well as much as he liked to live well. His study was just as impressive as the rest of the house, with dark red leather couches, a thick throw rug in front of the stone fireplace, and an antique desk and chair by a large bay window. She imagined he had an incredible view in the daytime. She sat down on the couch next to Stan while Alex took a chair across from them.

"Now, what can I do for you?" Stan asked.

Alex leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "I need some information about someone my father used to know. Her name was Sarah. I don't know her last name, but I'm hoping you do."

Surprise flashed through Stan's eyes. "I thought you wanted to talk to me about the photo of the Russian girl." As he finished speaking, his gaze moved to Julia's face.

She wondered what he saw when he looked at her, but his expression was difficult to read. "We'll get to that," Alex replied. "Right now, I'm more interested in Sarah. Do you know who I'm talking about?"

Stan sat back against the couch. "Your father had a friend named Sarah. Someone he went to school with at Northwestern. Is that who you mean?"

"What was her last name?" Julia asked sharply.

"It was Davis, I believe," Stan replied. "Sarah Davis. Why do you ask?"

"My mother's name was Sarah," Julia answered, the words spilling out in excitement. "But her maiden name was Gregory, or it might have been Davidson. Are you sure it was Davis, not Davidson?"

"I think so. Why?"

"Julia's mother also went to Northwestern," Alex interrupted. "We wondered if our parents knew each other."

"Why don't you ask your mother?" Stan inquired, directing his gaze toward Julia.

"She passed away six months ago."

Stan swallowed hard and a pulse jumped in his throat. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Can you tell me about the Sarah you knew? What did she look like? Did she and Alex's father have some sort of romantic relationship? Did you know both of them?" Julia asked.

"Whoa, slow down," he said, putting up a hand in defense. "I'm not sure I have the right to discuss Charles's personal business."

"He's not here to protest," Alex said. "And I can't see why he'd care, unless you know something about him and Sarah that we don't?"

Stan thought for a moment, then said, "I met Sarah twice. She was a brunette, average height, dark brown eyes, very pretty, and quiet. She let Charles do the talking. Their friendship lasted after they graduated from college. He once told me that they had a lot in common."

"Like what?" Julia asked.

"He didn't say."

"Mom thinks he was having an affair with Sarah," Alex interjected. He saw Julia start and knew he'd taken her by surprise as well.

"You never told me that," she said.

"I didn't know the person my mother was referring to was your mother-although we still don't know that for sure since the last names are confusing." A sudden thought occurred to Alex. He was surprised it hadn't occurred to him before. "You don't happen to have a picture of Sarah, do you, Julia?"

"Actually, I think I do." She reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet. She flipped past the pictures of Liz and some other girlfriends.' "This was taken at my college graduation." She handed Stan the photo. "Is she the woman you knew?"

"Yes, that's her," Stan said. "That's Sarah Davis."

"Damn," Alex swore.

"What?" Julia asked. She saw a new light in his eyes. "What did you just remember?"

Chapter 7

Alex took the photograph from Stan and gave it a long, careful look. He finally had the proof they were looking for. But Julia wasn't going to like it.

"What is it?" Julia asked again, her eyes worried. "Tell me."

Alex pointed to the woman in the photograph. "I think I saw this woman talking to my father in Red Square that day in Moscow."

Julia started shaking her head even before he finished speaking. "My mother never went to Moscow. | She didn't travel. She was afraid to fly. We never went | anywhere that we couldn't get to by car. You're wrong. You have to be wrong."

"I don't think I