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"That seems to be the consensus." I felt another twinge of envy for all the people who knew this version of my mother.
"To be completely honest," he continued, "I'm not just the stepfather of one of her students. I've also taken your mother out a few times."
"You're dating?" I was surprised and now even more curious about him. He was a good-looking older man with skin tones and dark hair and eyes that suggested he might be Spanish or Italian or some mix of cultures.
Mark smiled. "I'm not sure I'd call it dating at our age, but we've had dinner and gone to a movie."
"Sounds like dating to me. How long have you been going out?"
"A few weeks. We've just started getting to know each other, and now this. I'm in shock. Who would shoot your mother?"
"I can't imagine. She never told you about anyone who might have been bothering her or threatening her?"
"Not one word. She seems to have a lot of friends, and she doesn't get bothered by petty grievances. She doesn't look for drama, which I appreciate."
That sounded like my mother. I remembered her telling my dad once that she loved Vicky, but she hated how much Vicky liked to gossip and stir the pot. At the time, I didn't really know what that meant but as I got older and got to know Vicky, I could see where my mom had been coming from.
"Do the police have a suspect?" Mark asked.
"Not that they've told me."
"Well, I'm sure they'll find whoever did this."
"I hope so. You might want to speak to Inspector Greenman. I know he's interested in talking to my mother's friends."
"Do you have his number?"
"I do." I pulled out my phone and gave him the number. "Thanks for doing that. He needs all the help he can get."
"I don't know a lot, but I'm happy to share what I do know. Is your mother allowed visitors?"
"I'm not sure. She's in critical condition, so I don't think so. It might just be family only."
He shook his head, his gaze darkening as his lips tightened. "Well, please tell your mother I was asking about her and that I'll visit as soon as I can."
"I'll do that when she wakes up. She's not conscious at the moment."
"I'm sorry to hear that. I was hoping for better news. I'll pray for her."
I'd never seen prayer do much good, but I wasn't about to turn down the offer. "Thank you. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Harrison."
"Please, call me Mark. I didn't get your name."
"I'm sorry. It's Brynn. Brynn Landry."
He nodded. "I still can't believe your mother didn't tell me she had a daughter. You said you haven't seen her in a while, why is that?"
"We were estranged when I was a child," I said, not wanting to go through the whole story again.
"Well, I believe Laura will be all right," Mark said confidently. "She's a strong woman. You'll get your mother back."
"I hope so." I said goodbye, then hurried toward the parking lot. I was almost to my car when I saw a man walking across the street. He looked familiar, and when he turned his head, I let out a gasp.
My heart pounded against my chest. I had to be wrong. It couldn't be my father. He couldn't be in San Francisco, at the school where my mother worked.
Belatedly, I moved toward the street, but the man had disappeared.
I had to have imagined the resemblance. I'd been thinking about my dad. That's why I thought I'd seen him. But as the rationalizations filled my head, I had trouble believing them.
