“Well then, I guess the two of us will do a little exploring, won’t we?” she said, getting a slobbery, toothless grin in return.
“Wish me luck?” I said as I gathered my purse and sweater.
Aunt Victoria grasped my hand in hers.
“Whatever you find, you’re going to be okay. I promise.”
I nodded, not quite believing her, kissed the top of Willa’s head, and then went out front to get a cab. After rattling off the last known address for William Mitchell, I sat back in my seat and closed my eyes.
The house was a large two-story with a tidy front yard and a Ford in the driveway. Taking a deep breath, I slid from the back seat of the cab and ran my hands down the skirt of the pale yellow dress I’d worn.
“Can you wait for me?” I asked the cab driver.
“Meter’s running,” he said.
I nodded, stared up at the house, and then hurried up the steps before my nerves got the best of me and knocked on the door.
“Hello there,” the man who answered the door said. “Can I help you?”
He looked to be around forty, nice-looking, friendly...but definitely not William, and too young to be his father.
“I’m sorry to bother you, sir,” I said. “But I’m looking for a William Mitchell.”
He shook his head. “Sorry to say I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“Do you mind if I ask how long you’ve lived here?”
“Just about a year,” he said.
I nodded. “The family that lived here before you. Their son is William. Do you happen to know where they moved to?”
“Sorry. Can’t say I do. I know they sold the house because their son, William I guess, got injured flying in the war. They needed a house with only one floor for his wheelchair.”
“That would be his brother. He was a pilot.”
The man shrugged.
“You have no idea if they stayed in the area?” I asked.
“Sorry, miss. I never met ’em. They’d moved out before I even saw the house.”
I sighed, masking my frustration the best I could. “Okay well, thank you anyways. Have a nice day.”
He shut the door and I turned and stood on the porch, staring blindly toward the cab, unsure what to do next. This had been my only lead. Slowly, I walked back down the steps. When I reached the sidewalk I stopped, looking both ways for traffic.
“Yoohoo! Miss?”
I turned to see a woman in the next yard over, waving a gloved hand at me.
“Yes?” I called.
“You looking for the family that used to live there?” She pointed at the house I’d just been at.
“I am,” I said, taking a step toward her.
“They moved,” she said. “Just over a year ago.” She put her pruning shears down and waved me over.
“Do you know where they went?” I asked.
