"Did he give you any identification to take with her?"

"No, everything was all arranged when we arrived. They were expecting us."

When a tear rolled down Adelaide's cheek, Jackie opened her purse again, pulled out a tissue, and handed it to her.

"Nothing in my life has ever been harder than leaving that beautiful little girl in the hands of strangers. Georgia cried and I cried, but there was nothing I could do. She wasn't mine to keep, you see."

Jackie waited until the nanny managed to pull herself together. "What happened next?"

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"I used the third ticket Mr. Connelly gave me to fly from London to New York City."

"Did you try to contact Georgia after that?"

"I wrote her a letter. Mr. Connelly got hold of it somehow and found me. I thought he was going to kill me, but a neighbor came to see what all the shouting was about."

"Did you move to a different address?"

"No, I stayed. I thought if he knew right where I was, he wouldn't think I was up to something. Besides, I didn't know of anyplace else to go in America. I never tried to contact Georgia again and he stayed away."

"How did you end up in Colorado?"

Adelaide wiped the last tear off her cheek. "Well, they were going to demolish the building I lived in, so I had to go somewhere. I used to get the Denver paper and I read about Mathew and Laura Connelly a few times, so I knew Georgia's mother didn't die. Then I read about Mr. Gladstone and his money, and wasn't it sad he had only one daughter, Laura Connelly, and no grandchildren."

"So you knew Mr. Gladstone didn't know about Georgia."

"That's right. There isn't a day goes by, I don't think about my sweet little Georgia. I thought it was about time her grandfather knew, so I spent all I had on a bus ticket."

Jackie's eyes widened. "You rode a bus all the way from New York City to Denver?"

"It took forever. I'll never do that again."

"I don't blame you."

"I was down to my last dime, got hungry, and went to a shelter. A nice man there said he could help me. Mind you, I've heard that song before. Only this one really did help me. He got my social security checks transferred here, and got me this place to live. It isn't much, but it's a roof over my head."

"Mr. Gladstone is very grateful you came to him," said Jackie.

"Was, you mean. He died. Mathew Connelly killed him."

"Why do you say that?"




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