Lost and Found by Margaret Lake

Author:Margaret Lake [Lake, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jobree Publishing
Published: 2019-12-12T22:00:00+00:00

* * *

As it turned out, Carla wasn’t moved until a day later than planned. Michael was glad of the delay since it gave them time to reverse age the picture of Jane Doe. It also gave that wonderful woman another day of independence.

Armed with both photos and a report on Jane Doe’s DNA, Michael made his way to Carla’s cottage. He was early, but he not only wanted time for Carla to look closely at the photos, he also hoped to distract her if she was upset about the move. Nothing like being asked to help the police to give someone a sense of importance. Too often, his research showed, the elderly were shunted aside and ignored. It was like they became invisible. And that wasn’t going to happen to Carla if he had anything to say about it. He couldn’t save all the old folks, but he could do his bit for the one he knew and had become very fond of.

Michael was glad when Rosemarie opened the door for him. She’d be there to calm Carla if she got upset about moving.

“How is she?” he asked in a low voice.

“Getting itchy,” Rosemarie smiled. “Her new room overlooks the river and she can’t wait to enjoy the view.”

Michael had to chuckle at that. Carla really was the most remarkable woman.

“Carla!” he called, moving past Rosemarie. “How’s my favorite golden gal?”

Michael took Carla’s hand and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“I’m always fine. And I can’t be taken in by young scalawags bearing gifts.”

“What makes you think I’m bearing gifts?”

“I see that hand tucked behind your back,” Carla told him, pretending to scowl. “Now give!”

“You got me!” Michael laughed. “Remind me never to try any tricks with you.”

And Michael was rewarded with the sweetest smile from Carla when she saw the yellow roses.

“Oh,” Carla breathed, a pink blush staining her wrinkled cheeks, making her look like a young girl just receiving her first bouquet. “Yellow roses are my favorite. However did you know?”

“Trade secrets.”

“Humph. You called Rosemarie, didn’t you?”

“Us nosy reporters do our research.”

“Sit down, young man. You’re giving me a crick in my neck.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Michael replied meekly, sitting on the end of the sofa nearest Carla’s wheelchair.

“And don’t you ma’am me,” she replied sharply. “Rosemarie, would you put these in water, please, and bring this trickster a cup of tea.”

“Of course,” Rosemarie replied, taking the roses and brushing them past her nose to breathe in the heady scent.

“Aren’t your cups and things packed? I mean, you don’t have to go through any trouble to make me a cup of tea.”

“Good heavens, no,” Carla smiled grimly. “These cottages came fully furnished and stocked with dishes and towels and everything I needed.”

“You mean you weren’t allowed to bring your own personal belongings?” Michael asked, shocked.

“No, no,” Carla shushed him, waving her hand. “I have all my photos and a few knick-knacks that I’ll be able to take with me to the new room. Who cares about some old cups and saucers?”

“I see,” said Michael, not really understanding.

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