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have a mind t’ tell ye, right off.”
    Trudy stood up and began to clear the dishes, clucking her tongue as she surveyed the uneaten sandwiches. “Ye should have a bit o’ food,” she groused.
    “Save some for later.” Anne finished her cup, then held it out for the tray. “Now tell me where I can find whatever you think she’s kept about him.”
    “Aye, then. Go on back upstairs t’ the loft. We’ve been settin’ things t’ right up there o’ late, but I canna recall seein’ any o’ the old stuff. It’s been years now since Mrs. Howard had the heart t’ bother with it.”
    “Okay, but when Grandma gets home, don’t let on I’m upstairs. I don’t think she’d be pleased to know I was snooping again. Right?”
    “Right. Good huntin’ then, lass.” Trudy grudgingly nodded agreement as she left for the kitchen.
    Anne glanced at the picture of Brandon one more time, then shut her eyes, remembering him in the Abbey, and the kiss they shared. For a moment, there was no sound in the room except her own beating heart.
    She rose and headed for the stairs.
    …
    Catherine closed the front door and took the lead off Duffy’s collar. He rushed into the kitchen, nails barely finding traction as he careened toward his food bowl. She could hear Trudy grumbling and smiled to herself. Some things never changed.
    “Hello, I’m back. Have I missed out on tea?” Catherine asked as she entered the kitchen.
    “Weel now, Mrs. Howard,” Trudy said without looking up from her potato peeling. “I wasna sure when ye’d return. If ye had thought t’ tell me ye were goin’ out an’ when t’ expect ye back, then sure enough, I would’ve kept it ready.”
    “You’re absolutely correct. Sorry I’m late, but Duffy and I ran into Kay and Paul and their dog, Solo. Be a dear and make me a fresh cuppa, would you? And please do bring it to Mr. Howard’s library.” She paused. “Where is Anne? Is she home yet?”
    Trudy looked up from her work. “Aye, she came in just before ye, complainin’ of a fierce headache. Been t’ the Abbey, she told me.”
    “Yes, I see. Poor dear. I’ll just pop in,” Catherine said.
    Trudy turned. “No, no. She wanted t’ sleep a bit an’ asked no’ t’ be bothered before seven o’clock, just in time for supper.”
    “Fine, but let me know, will you, if you hear her moving about before then?” Catherine scrambled for a reason to keep Anne out of the library, just in case. “I have some work I need to do, and I’d hate for her to come looking for me in there, because, well, it’s so dusty, you see. I’m afraid it might aggravate her headache.”
    Oh, that was a dreadful excuse! Trudy keeps that room spotless.
    Clearly upset, Trudy’s mouth dropped open, but she shut it again as quickly.
    Mortified, Catherine wanted to make a quick exit. “Thank you, Mrs. Leach.”
    Looking at her though narrowed eyes, Trudy nodded. “Aye, I’ll have yer cuppa brought in t’ ye in a wee bit.”
    …
    Anne looked inside the old trunk with a fresh eye. She studied the camel jacket and green hat, realizing they were the ones her grandmother wore in the photo. She set them aside and reached for the small corsage, brittle with age. An ivory ribbon held it together, a small envelope pinned to it.
    She opened the envelope, removed a card, and read: Engagement photo and corsage—7th July, 1945 Brighton by the Sea.
    So, the Brighton photo had been taken less than six months before Dr. Brandon disappeared.
    “It must have been so hard to lose him, Grandma.” Anne placed the corsage and note on the clothing and sifted through the newspaper clippings. They dealt with Brandon’s disappearance and the ensuing investigation, showing photos of him and the various eyewitnesses to his vanishing.
    She zeroed in on a picture of a stocky man, wearing an apron and standing by the Crook’s front door. The caption read: Mr. Tom Lloyd, proprietor of The Bishop’s Crook.
    Anne regarded the man’s steadfast