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Okay, she knew his name back then was Jacob Evans, and going with his age, he was born around 1924 or 1925. She decided to check New York first and started to get all excited when only one result appeared for a man named Jacob Evans in 1924. As she looked at the information, Mack was delighted there was no death certificate, but there was a marriage license for a Jacob Evans dated April 19, 1947. Mack paused and tapped her lip in thought as she pondered the date. Would this be the same man that Rose loved? Why would he get married so quickly? Still, she had no other leads so she continued following the trail of this Jacob Evans.
After about ten minutes, she found a telephone number and address for him in Brookline, Boston. She wasn’t sure whether to get in touch or not as he seemed to get married, just a week after Rose died. He didn’t know that though. After all, he’d thought she was alive and married. He’d believed that she hadn’t loved him so perhaps he got married in anger. But a week after—why?
He also phoned Degan House a month later asking for Rose. Surely, he wouldn’t have done that if he’d married, unless, of course, the wrong year had been entered on the website? She would have to purchase some credits to view the marriage license for a correct date. For now, she would act as though this was the correct Jacob Evans. She had nothing to lose if he wasn’t, and everything to gain if he was the correct Jacob.
With a deep breath, Mack picked her cell up and dialed the number, which was answered on the second ring.
“Evans’ residence,” a feminine voice answered.
“Oh, hello. My name is Mackenzie Harper, and I was wondering if Mr. Jacob Evans lived there?”
“What’s the reason for the enquiry?”
“Whom I speaking to, please?” Mack asked in reply. She needed to be a bit cautious in case she was talking to his wife.
“I’m Martha, Mr. Evans’s housekeeper.” Then she was silent, having realized she’d just practically admitted to Mack that she’d found the correct person.
“All right, Martha, this is going to sound strange, but I’ve come across a diary dated March and April 1947. It contains information about a Jacob Evans. If your employer is the same Jacob Evans who lived in Cape Elizabeth, Maine, during that time, then I really need to speak to him. I’m concerned he’s been living all this time thinking something happened that didn’t. If that makes any sense?”
“That’s some story, Miss Harper. I’ll have to find out for you. Can I take your number and your address?”
Mack gave her the phone number and address for Rose Cottage, and expressed again, how urgent the matter was. She really hoped Martha would pass the message on. Otherwise, she’d have to visit once Lucas had gone home to his parents.
“Okay, I have that. Thank you.” Then Martha put the phone down on her.
“Who was that, Martha?”
She was surprised. “Oh, Mr. Dean! I didn’t know you were home. It was a young lady asking about your grandfather.”
Dean placed his motorcycle helmet on top of the side table. “What about my grandfather?”
Martha was all flustered. “She said she’d found a diary from 1947, and wanted to know if the Jacob mentioned was your grandfather. It can’t be, really, because apart from the war, I don’t think he lived anywhere other than here, and certainly not Maine.”
“Hmm, did you take her contact details?”
He walked over to Martha and took the information from her. “Please don’t mention anything until I’ve had time to check this out, okay?”
“If you’re sure, Mr. Dean?”
“I am.”
Dean had been thinking about escaping for a while now. He glanced down at the information on the piece of paper and rubbed his fingers over the address. He needed to get away from his mother, who kept throwing Cynthia at him and going on and on about getting married. All because she wanted grandchildren. She really was driving him nuts, so he’d just been given the perfect excuse to escape.
Once in his room, he tossed his things onto his bed and walked over to his desk, pulled out the chair and sat down. Opening the lid to his laptop, Dean brought up a search engine and had a look at available summer rentals near Cape Elizabeth. He smiled when he saw his luck was holding—there was a cottage right next door to the mystery caller’s address and it appeared to be available for the next few weeks.
After he’d debated with himself about whether this really was a good idea, he picked up his cell and dialed the contact number before he could change his mind.
His last contract had just ended, and the new graphic work he had scheduled didn’t start for another two months so it was the perfect time to head out on vacation.
He paid the deposit with his credit card and arranged to pay the rest in cash when he collected the keys from his new landlady.
On his way out of the house, Dean left a message with Martha for his mother, saying he had gone away for a few weeks, much to Martha’s amusement. She knew he would do anything to avoid his mother and her matchmaking.
Dean climbed on his Harley and headed north up the coast, thinking about the mysterious Miss Mackenzie Harper.
It was mid-afternoon when Mack heard her cell ring and dashed to answer it, only to find her sister Melinda on the other end.
“Hi sis, how’s everything? Is Lucas okay? Any gorgeous guys? Bored yet?”
