Julia
After saying goodbye to Paula and Margaret, I wandered around Van's home, searching for more mementos, something to make sense of the picture in his office. I'd been through all the possibilities in my head.
Van was married at one time.
I could live with that fact; after all, he was forty-one years old. What I couldn't fathom was why he'd kept his wedding picture up if he was divorced. And then another possibility came to me. Maybe Van was a widower. That would make sense, considering how much of a loner he claimed to be. Even Mr. Fields said Van was a private person.
The sun moved closer to the horizon and still no word from Van.
In the library, I'd begun to organize some of the things Van had accumulated. While there were flash drives with folders and folders of documents,
