Page 16 of Memory of Murder
“This place has a new name,” Jack said when the waitress’s attention swung to him, then he gifted her with a charming smile that clearly dazzled her. “Has the management or owner changed as well?”
The waitress, Cherry, returned the smile with a dreamy one of her own. “It used to be JJ’s,” she confirmed. “For Jerry and Judith Trenton, but the owners got divorced. The wife ended up with the bar in the settlement, and she changed the name to Judith’s.”
“Is Judith here by any chance?” Anne mentally crossed her fingers.
Cherry, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-two or-three, nodded eagerly. “She is. Wednesdays are ladies’ poker night, and she’s setting up the club room.”
“We’d love to say hello,” Anne said hopefully. “My mother used to come here. She told me all about the place.”
Cherry nodded. “I’ll let her know you’re here.” She looked to Jack once more. “Would you like anything else?”
“No, thanks.”
When the waitress had hurried away, Jack gave Anne a thumbs-up. “Good move.”
“It’s mostly true.” She sipped her water. “Like you said, the journal mentioned this place.”
“When we leave, we’ll drive by the address where the Langstons lived then and now. You won’t believe the change—talk about moving up. The apartment building where Carin Carter Wallace lived is gone. There’s a huge supermarket there now. Like the Langstons, based on her current address, she’s moved way up as well.”
“Rumor is,” Anne pointed out, “there’s money to be made in the world of politics.”
Jack chuckled. “There is that.”
A gasp drew their attention to the woman suddenly standing next to their table. She looked to be in her late sixties or early seventies. Her white hair was arranged in a youthful bob around an unexpectedly smooth complexion. Her pantsuit was silk and a spectacular blue that emphasized the color of her eyes.
Judith, no doubt. Anticipation and no small dash of anxiety swelled inside Anne.
“Oh my God,” the older woman murmured. “You are the spitting image of your mother.”
Anne flinched, couldn’t help herself. She recovered quickly and held out her hand. “Anne. The long-lost daughter.”
Judith shook her hand but then placed her own against her chest. “It’s utterly uncanny.”
“And you’re Judith,” Anne suggested.
“I am indeed.”
Jack scooted over, making room on his side of the booth. “Please, join us.”
The older lady settled into the seat next to him. She smiled at him, her shiny pink lips parting to show off straight, white teeth. “Thank you. And you are…”
“Jack.” He offered his hand then. “Jack Brenner from the Colby Agency. I’m helping Anne find the answers she needs.”
Her hand fell away from Jack’s, and another gasp hissed across her lips. She put her fingers there as if needing to hold back whatever might have popped out next. When her hand dropped to the table, she looked from Jack to Anne. “You’re here because we’re closing in on the thirtieth anniversary, and you want the whole story.”
Anne nodded, going along with the narrative Jack had opened. “I felt it was time.”
“Oh, and Mary just passed.” Judith made a sad face and shook her head. “Such a tragic story.”
“Mary left me her journal and other evidence.” Anne stretched the facts just a little. “We’re going through everything piece by piece.”
Judith’s jaw fell open for a moment before she snapped it closed once more. “Things are going to hit the fan, aren’t they?”
The twinkle in her eyes told Anne she wasn’t sad or angry about the notion.
“Possibly. The truth deserves to be told. In fact—” she turned to Jack “—we were just talking about paying a visit to the Langstons and to Carin Carter Wallace.”
That twinkle brightened, and the older woman’s grin widened. “This is going to be epic.” She nodded sagely. “Finding the whole truth should have happened ages ago.”
