Chapter 56
Bozeman is beautiful. At least from the small pieces I see from the sky down to the block where we’d agreed to meet Rose. The sprawling snowy mountains and trees as far as the eyes can see remind me of home.
As soon as we had decided to come, I couldn’t wait to call her and confirm. But I waited and called her the very next morning, and she agreed to meet us at a café. One suggested by her.
I start to get really nervous as we step out of the car and approach the café.
I grab Jameson’s hand like a lifeline and squeeze way too tight.
I started thinking of all the possibilities on the drive, and how badly this could go.
What if she’s a con artist? What if she brings someone dangerous with her?
What if she tells us things that leave us with more questions than answers?
It’s a very cute spot, quiet. But not too eerily quiet.
And it’s a little late for breakfast, but not quite lunch time either.
I immediately spot a puffy head of white hair in a booth toward the middle.
A woman sitting by herself. I’m certain that’s her, since there are only about five other people in this café.
“Can I help you guys?” the hostess greets us.
“Yeah. We’re meeting someone here. Rose. Do you know if that’s her?”
“It is,” the young hostess says with a very large smile. The kind that shows gums and all. I get the feeling she smiles a lot. “She’s here every week.”
“Thank you,” we both say as we make our way over. Jameson leads me through a sea of tables and empty chairs, still clutching my hand.
“Rose?” he calls as we approach.
She turns her head in what feels like slow motion, and I instantly feel relief. The kindest, sweetest-looking old lady smiles up at us. I can tell with one moment of eye contact that she’s not a bad person.
“Carly and Jameson?” she says weakly, her voice thick with a gravelly yet sweet tone.
“Yes.” I nod and smile.
“Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you.”
Jameson lets me sit first, then scoots in after me.
“It’s nice to meet you. Thanks for meeting us.”
“I wasn’t sure at first,” she admits. “But you sounded so sweet on the phone and well, I’m an old woman now. What have I got to lose? I haven’t thought about the past in a long time, to be honest, but when you called, it got me thinking. If someone wants to listen, it’s time I tell my story.”
My heart skips. So she is involved. Jameson and I exchange a quick, excited glance.
“You asked me on the phone if I knew Elizabeth. I did. But she died a long time ago. I killed her.”