“We’re going with you,” Grace said, not even letting me debate with her.
I drove through the rainy streets of Hollywood and into Los Angeles. The traffic wasn’t bad, and we were able to get there in about twenty minutes, but I was surprised when we found our address.
“It’s a hotel,” Lydia said.
The Barclay Hotel was one of the oldest in Los Angeles and sat on a corner lot.
“Do you think she lives here?” Grace asked.
“What if she was only staying here but left and took the book with her?” Kathryn chimed in from the back seat.
My heart dropped at the thought. “I need to see that book.”
“How will you ask for it?” Grace frowned. “What excuse will you give?”
“I’m so desperate, I don’t care what she thinks. I’ll just ask her for it, without a reason.”
The four of us entered the beautiful hotel, and I inquired about Elizabeth Hennesy at the front desk.
“Why, yes. Mrs. Hennesy is still with us.” The clerk smiled. “She and Mr. Hennesy have been with us for several months now. Room 108.”
I thanked him and looked toward the hallway he had indicated.
“The girls and I will wait here for you,” Grace said with an encouraging smile.
With a deep breath, I left them and walked down the hall todoor 108. I wasn’t afraid to meet her, but nervous that she wouldn’t have the book for some reason.
After knocking, I took a step back and waited.
The door opened, and a woman appeared. “Can I help—?” She paused as recognition dawned on her face.
My lips parted as I stared at her.
She shook her head. “How did you find me?”
“Bess?” I blinked several times, uncertain that I was seeing straight. She appeared exactly the same, except her hair was shorter and she didn’t look nearly as exhausted. “What are you doing here?”
“What areyoudoing here?”
“I came for a book,The Annals of San Francisco.”
Bess glanced over her shoulder at the book lying on a table.
“You have it.” I was both relieved and confused as I took a step forward.
She blocked my entry. “You can’t have it.”
“Why not?”
“Bess?” a man called from somewhere inside the room. “Who is here?”
Alarm registered in her eyes as she said, “A bellboy. I’ll see what he wants.” She moved forward, forcing me back into the hall, and closed the door behind her. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Who was that?”
“You shouldn’t be here,” she repeated.
“I’m so confused.”
