When Shadows Fall by Barbara Freethy Page A

happen." Colton rested his forearms on the table as he gazed into her eyes.
    She licked her lips at the intensity in his gaze. She couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at her with so much purpose. She just wished his purpose wasn't to get rid of her.
    "My grandfather thinks that talking about her life will upset my grandmother. He told me that agitation makes her blood pressure go up and that can sometimes trigger an episode."
    She nodded. "I don't want to do anything to hurt your grandmother. But I have to ask you something."
    "What's that?"
    "What are you afraid of? What do you think your grandmother is going to tell me?"
    "I'm not afraid of anything. I'm here at my grandfather's request. I told you—it's all about her health."
    "I don't think it's only about that."
    "Of course it is. My grandfather is incredibly protective. That's the kind of man he is. He's fiercely loyal to family and friends, but especially to his wife. She's his life. He adores her."
    It was possible that was true, but she'd done too many interviews in the past four years with reluctant family members not to be able to discern between someone who was being protective and someone who had something to hide. Right now the Callaway men, especially Colton's grandfather, were falling into the second category.
    "I'm quite capable of talking to your grandmother without upsetting her, and I understand the concerns about her health, but can I be frank?" she asked.
    "Can I stop you?" he countered.
    "You said you wanted to be direct and not play games," she reminded him.
    He didn't look too happy to have his words thrown back in his face, but he nodded. "Go ahead then."
    "I don't think you know why your grandfather doesn't want Eleanor to talk to me."
    "I know what he told me, and I don't have any reason to doubt him or to think there's some sort of hidden agenda."
    "Well, I do think there's a reason he hasn't shared with you."
    "What are you basing that on?"
    "My instincts. I've been working as a research assistant for a well-known biographer, Philip Dunston."
    "Never heard of him."
    "Well, a lot of people have. His most recent book just hit the New York Times and had the biggest first-sale day of any biography in the past ten years. The subject was Carlton Hughes, former secretary of state, but he's only one of many people I've researched over the last several years. I've become very good at reading between the lines and figuring out what someone's motive is."
    "Fine. Maybe you have good instincts, but you've been researching public figures. My grandmother and her friends are lovely women, but I don't know anything that they did that would warrant a book about their lives."
    "Just because you don't know doesn't mean there isn't anything. A few weeks ago, Molly Harper wrote me a letter about herself and her friends at the senior center. She told me that they all had amazing stories to tell and that they were part of a generation of women who had been silenced by men, and it was time to tell their story. She mentioned secrets and danger and doing something amazing without getting caught."
    "What does that mean?" he asked with a puzzled look in his eyes.
    "I don't know yet. Molly asked me to be the person who would give her and her friends a voice before they couldn't speak anymore. And that's what I want to do."
    "My grandmother has never had a problem speaking up. If she wanted to say something, she would say it."
    Olivia didn't believe that, and she wasn't basing that opinion just on Molly's letter but also on the conversation she'd had with the women and with Tom at the center. They'd exchanged very pointed looks at times, as if they weren't sure how much to say. They were definitely hiding something.
    "Did you find anything interesting in Molly's box?" Colton asked.
    "I've just started reading her journals. Molly was quite detailed in her writing. Unfortunately, I've only gotten through her childhood and into high school. You called right about