“Good idea,” said Marshall Bryant. “Plenty of those things in the safe, right here in the house. I’ll lend them to you overnight or for a day or two. Whatever you say.”
“That will be a help,” said Mr. Dorn. “I’ll return them to you promptly.”
One thing puzzled Vicki. Why had no one at the luncheon table mentioned Jack Rowe, the girl’s father? She murmured her question to Mrs. Bryant.
“Because Lucy’s father died two years ago in an auto accident,” Mrs. Bryant answered her. “Lucy did not write and tell us. Lucy has never written to us, except one or two Christmas letters when she was a child—which my husband asked me not to answer.” Mrs. Bryant sighed. “So we had no way of knowing about Jack until Mr. Dorn investigated and reported to us about three weeks ago. I’m sorry about Jack, if only because his passing has left Lucy entirely alone in the world.”
“She has you and her grandfather,” Vicki said.
“If we can find her, and if she can forget old difficulties. However”—the elderly woman brightened—“on the basis of what he’s already learned, Mr. Dorn is hopeful that everything will work out well.” Then she said, “Oh, Mr. Dorn! Didn’t you say you had some further word about Lucy?”
“Yes, Mrs. Bryant. I’ve had a letter from one of her friends whom I was unable to meet in person. Her friend writes that Lucy is an accomplished swimmer and horsewoman. You know how Californians go in for sports and outdoor living. Her friend also wrote my firm—sorry I forgot to bring the letter—that Miss Lucy is fond of birds and knows something about them.”
“She’ll be interested in your parakeets,” Mr. Bryant said to his wife, “and she’ll enjoy the swimming pool.”
“Let’s hope so. We old people might be dull company for her. She sounds like a delightful girl, Mr. Dorn.”
The lawyer said, “From everything I’ve learned so far, she sounds like a charming girl, and a girl of considerable character.”