“Then what are you suggesting?”
“I don’t know, I just—she made it clear she didn’t approve of you and me.”You and me—as if that were a thing. “Maybe you did tell her, and you don’t remember.”
“Shit, Lana. Estelle might be complicated, but I’ve known her for years. I trust her completely.”
Lana heard the implication loud and clear. Why did she even suggest Estelle? In her panic, it was the first explanation that came to mind. Self-sabotage—the thing she did best. She went to retract her words, but the door swished open, and Walter walked in.
“Walter’s here,” she hissed, turning away. “Griffin, please, you have to believe me—I haven’t told anyone. I don’t know how I can convince you.”
“Neither do I. You’d better talk to him.” Griffin’s voice had gone into neutral.
“Griffin, please don’t do that—don’t retract. Are you still coming to?—”
He’d hung up. She pressed her lips together. Her chest hurt. Despite the neon warnings that this wasn’t a guy she could have, it turned out she truly wanted him.
“That’s Darnell?” Walter said, looking at the bed. “Is this why there are so many people out there? Poor man. What happened?”
“Surfing accident, they think.”
As Lana explained, she surreptitiously located the call button. But what could Walter do to her in a hospital full of people? And he was her …father. He looked old and frail. If his trousers had fit him once, they didn’t anymore—the belt could loop around him twice.
“Walt—Mr. Shep…” What should she even call him? “Look, I know the truth,” she blurted, “about who you are, in relation to me.”
His gray eyebrows latched together. “Haven’t we had this conversation?”
“Turns out, no. At that point, I didn’t know what the connection was. Long story.”
He pointed at her phone. “Are you recording this conversation?”
“No!”
“Then would you please switch that thing off and shut it in a cupboard?”
Lana looked at it. It was her only connection to Griffin—if he was even helping anymore. Was she on her own now?
“Otherwise, I’m leaving,” Walter said.
“I’ll turn it off.” She didn’t need another false accusation, and his fear of publicity had to be even greater than Griffin’s. “But first, I need to show you a photo.” She pulled up the security camera picture of Vivien. “Okay, now it’s powering off.” She slidit under some blankets in a cupboard. “That’s the last sighting we have of Vivien. She last came to see you four weeks ago, not six.” Lana quoted the date and time stamped on the photo. “A Saturday.”
“I wasn’t here. That was Grace’s birthday—her ninety-first—and she wanted to spend it at home. We were gone all weekend.”
Lana stared blankly at an artwork. So, what, Vivien had just left again? Was this yet another dead end? “Walter, are you being blackmailed over this?”
His already pallid face grayed. “They’re taking all I have,” he whispered, stabbing a finger in the air. “Threatening to put everything out there. So, if it’s money you’re after, I’m already being sucked dry. Not that I care a hoot about money, or this accursed film they’re making. I care about Grace—she can’t find out.”
“I don’t want your money, I just want the truth. It might help me find Vivien.”
His gaze dropped to her neck and his expression softened. “You’re wearing the necklace.”
Lana automatically touched it.
“Vivien was wearing hers too. I gave one to each of you when I said goodbye.”
“Yougave us these?”
“‘Always in my heart,’” he said, quoting the inscription. “Rose gold, from Tiffany’s.”
“We never take them off.” Lana had always assumed they were from her parents—herotherparents. Her mom hadn’t allowed the girls to wear them until they were old enough to be trusted with them. “Shall we sit?” Lana had wanted this, wanted to see him, but now she didn’t know where to start. Her mind wasn’t exactly settled.
