AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Why don’t you go ahead and sit down? We forgot all about the lemonade,” Olivia said with a chuckle. She head
ed down the hall toward the kitchen, greeting guests along the way. With her bubbly personality, Olivia was the perfect hostess for Savannah House. Charlotte watched for a moment as Olivia spoke with the couple and answered questions. Her manner was animated. She was clearly invested in their clientele. For a moment Charlotte wished she could be more uninhibited like Olivia. Every day she let her soul radiate like the rays of the sun.
When Charlotte finally entered the parlor, Marc was sitting in the room with Morgan and Hope. Marc was holding Hope’s daughter Ella in his arms and looking very self-assured while doing so. He was gently rocking her back and forth and crooning in a low voice.
“Wow,” Charlotte said in a surprised tone. “You’ve really got the baby magic down pat.”
“Just call me the baby whisperer,” Marc said in a low voice.
Hope threw up her hands. “He’s fairly amazing. I’m honestly thinking of hiring him as a babysitter,” she said in a teasing voice. “Maybe that way I’ll get a little sleep. Ella has been keeping me up at night.”
Fancy entered the parlor and beamed as she gazed at Ella. It didn’t take two guesses to figure out where Fancy’s thoughts lay. She’d been dreaming about nurseries and bassinets and binkies for quite some time now.
Charlotte sidled up to Fancy and whispered, “Maybe this time next year I’ll be an auntie.”
Fancy’s smile was infectious. She spoke in a low voice only Charlotte could hear. “From your lips to God’s ears. I can’t wait to have some little ones to rock to sleep at night.”
“I know I’m partial, but I think Case will make a wonderful father,” Charlotte said in a gushing tone. He would be a wonderful protector, Charlotte thought. He’d shown her in the most meaningful way how a big brother could shield and defend his little sister. No doubt he would be even more fiercely protective as a father.
Olivia walked into the parlor bearing a tray containing a lemonade pitcher, glasses and some cinnamon churros Morgan had baked earlier. She settled the tray on the table, then took a seat.
“I think I’ll go put her down while the going is good,” Hope whispered, reaching over and taking Ella from Marc’s strong arms. “Feel free to start without me. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
As Hope dashed out, everyone settled in around the coffee table. All eyes were on Marc. He steepled his hands in front of him and laid his chin on the top of his fingers.
“I wanted to touch base with you regarding the investigation of Grayson Holloway.” He looked around him. “For whatever reason, this guy is very elusive. I found out he’s an artist and illustrator. He works primarily with children’s books. He can’t be pinned down to one location, although he tends to spend most of his time in Martha’s Vineyard in Cape Cod. Right before I came over here a lead kicked in. Something that might really help us determine whether Holloway’s claim is junk or not.”
Charlotte leaned forward in her chair. “What is it?”
“Since Grayson is in his thirties, it isn’t possible he was the child of Miss Hattie. That would be simple to prove. However, one of his parents is another matter. I did a little digging and I came up with something. Grayson’s father is Tanner Holloway.”
“That name sounds familiar,” Fancy said.
“He’s a celebrated author. He’s done a lot of writing about identity and being adopted,” Marc explained. Hope quietly reentered the room and took a seat.
Charlotte sucked in a breath. “Grayson’s father was adopted?”
Marc nodded. “Which in itself doesn’t mean a whole lot. Plenty of people are adopted. But it does raise the question. Is Grayson trying to make a connection between his father’s ancestry and ownership of Savannah House? If he is, then something tells me he must have some sort of proof. And if so, I’m guessing he might have a leg to stand on. I think we really need to place some pressure on his attorney to provide more details, because he could be alleging any sort of familial link. We just don’t know a whole lot at the moment.” He scratched his jaw. “I don’t want to run up your tab but I might want to venture out to the Vineyard to check up on this guy. Do some digging around. I wouldn’t stay longer than two days tops.”
“What do you ladies think?” Olivia asked, scanning the faces of her partners.
“I think it makes sense,” Charlotte blurted out. Everyone regarded her with a measure of surprise. Even Marc. Charlotte knew it was due to her initial skepticism of Marc being hired to investigate Grayson Holloway. “I think going to the place where this Grayson character has roots might reveal something important. We need to be ready to fight this claim.”
“I agree. And a few days of travel expenses won’t kill us,” Hope added, twirling long strands of her dark hair around her finger.
Fancy shook her head. “I agree, although I just thought of something.”
“What is it?” Charlotte asked.
Fancy’s expression was thoughtful. “Miss Hattie is no longer with us, with nothing but distant relatives on both sides. How in the world could a DNA test show ancestry? Wouldn’t Miss Hattie already have to be in the database?”
“DNA and ancestry lineage aren’t my forte, but—” Marc stopped mid-sentence.
“But what? Don’t sugarcoat it for us,” Charlotte said. Every instinct told her Marc had stopped speaking in an effort to protect them from his thoughts. Whatever it was, they needed to know. Good, bad or in between. Full transparency was crucial at this juncture.
Marc shook his head. “As I said, I’m no expert, but legally this guy could push for an exhumation of Miss Hattie’s body.”
Shocked gasps rang out in the room. Charlotte raised her hand to her mouth. A squeak of outrage slipped past her lips. It was unthinkable!
