Thirteen

A s soon as she left her hotel room the next morning, Anna headed toward The Grill.

A curly-brown-headed hostess greeted her. "Just one?"

"It may be two. I'm expecting someone to join me. Is there a corner table in the back available?"

"If you can wait a minute, Mike is clearing one over there."

"That would be perfect. Thank you."

Business travelers, dressed in suits, sat alone. A talkative family chattered over a morning meal on the room's far side. A man read a newspaper, wedged in the corner by a window, the sun bright behind him, leaving only his shadowed profile in view.

"Your table is ready. Please follow me." The hostess led Anna to a table away from the booths.

Anna settled on a wooden chair facing the entrance. Then she pinched her nostrils together with her thumb and forefinger as the scent of disinfectant mixed with a musty odor escaped from the opened menu.

She tipped her watch into view. Already ten after eight. Whoever sent the note was late.

"Would you like something to drink while you decide on your order?" The youth concentrated on the pad in his hand. His blond hair just touched his shoulders when he looked down.

"Coffee and ice water, please."

Anna skimmed her musty-smelling menu as the young man carried her drink order to the kitchen. She'd just slid out her phone to check for a missed call when the table jolted.

The persistent woman dropped into the chair across from her and plopped an oversized purse onto the table. She closed a clenched fist around a knot of pearls that dangled low over the crisp white blouse offset by her teal pantsuit.

The young man returned with Anna's coffee and water. He glanced at Anna's companion, who waved him away before she could speak. The waiter returned to the kitchen.

"Maybe it wasn't a good idea to meet this soon and in the open." The erratic woman turned her wooden chair at an angle, providing her with a full view of the room. She eyed the man wedged in the corner and clutched her pearls again.

" You asked for this meeting. I presume you're who's been calling me." Tired of these evasive games, Anna sipped her much-needed coffee.

"My name is Martha Jones. I've known your great-uncle for years."

"Who?" Anna shook her head. "I don't have a great-uncle. Are you sure you don't have me mixed up with someone?"

"I know exactly who you are, Anastasia. Soon, you will too. There are many things to discuss."

Emotions seemed to hit all at once. As Anna sat speechless, Martha pulled her pearls back and forth, seeming eager to continue. Anna was about to speak when the waiter dropped by. "Are you ready to order now?"

The woman drummed her fingers on the wooden tabletop and didn't respond.

"Um, I don't think I'll be ordering anything right now." The words squeaked past Anna's clogged throat. She eyed her companion—Martha. "How about you?"

"Nothing for me."

"Then just the check, please," Anna added. The waiter shook his head, reached into his pouch, handed Anna the bill, then strode away.

"I have many things to tell you. I understand why you're skeptical and questioning." A slight twitch jerked Martha's left eyelid. In her midsixties and sporting a stylish short bob, she obviously dyed her hair a light blonde. The color further washed out her drawn face and pale skin, but she must've been pretty in her younger years. Even with the obvious stress, she was quite attractive now.

"I don't understand any of this." Anna tapped her index finger against her lips. "What could you have to do with me?" The chair scraped, moving closer to the table with forward bursts. "Did you know my mother?"

Martha's eye kept twitching, even as she surveyed the room as though she expected a monster lurking in the shadows. "This must come as a great surprise. Nevertheless, I'm not certain this is the right place."

"Is something wrong?" A chill tripped down Anna's spine. That man in the airport… Martha had been there too.

"Why don't you get a jacket and anything else you'd like, and I'll take you for a drive?" Martha released her pearls and reached for her purse. "That way, we can discuss everything in private."

A drive? Did she trust this woman enough to get in a car with her?

"This is all too strange." Anna swallowed hard. "I came all this way. I want answers. I've never heard of a great-uncle. I'm not going to wait long, but I'll go with you. If you wanted to harm me, I guess you could have already."

"Good." Martha stood, dug out her keys, and tucked her purse under her arm. "I'll bring my car to the covered area at the front entrance. Join me after you get anything you need from your hotel room. It's a black sedan."

Anna nodded, wrote the room number to be charged on the bill, and slid out of her seat. By the time she reached her floor, she'd convinced herself this was the way to resolve her questions. She didn't come this far to turn back. She hurried toward her room, opened the door, grabbed the necessary items, checked the safe, and returned to the elevator, avoiding her reflection in the mirror.

She strode toward the main entrance and the black car. When she slid into the passenger seat, Martha looked even more nervous.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Anna reached to let herself out, but Martha put the car in drive and hit the accelerator, lunging forward. Her muscles tense, Anna pulled her bag closer and waited.

"Do you remember this area? I know it's been many years."

"Not much. We only lived here when I was a child."

"Things have changed since then." With that tone, Martha must be thinking of other times. "I just wondered how much you remembered."

"I remember enough to know all my memories aren't pleasant, I must say." Anna shifted, her legs antsy and her heartbeat ratcheting up. "I didn't come to discuss my memories or my past. Why did you contact me? And why did you make it sound mysterious and urgent?"

"Since the news of an unknown living relative is a surprise to you, you'll have many more revelations. I don't mind answering your questions. I'm eager to get everything out in the open. However, let's get somewhere and stop. We can have our discussion all at once, without the distraction of maneuvering through traffic."

Seriously? Anna glared at the woman. "How long is this going to drag on?"

Tight-lipped, Martha kept her focus straight ahead.

Anna laid her head back and found herself relaxing. Now, why couldn't she keep her eyes open? What a funny time to become sleepy.