When he started toward us, I knew it wasn't going to be easily explainable.
"That layout was done a little more than two months ago," he said. "The model on the page is someone called Gina Simon."
"When did you mother pass away?" Holly asked. "It's been a little more than two months. About the same time," Kenneth said.
"So, that could be her in the catalogue," Holly said. "But if it's my mother, why did she change her name?" I asked.
"Someone might have suggested it, told her it sounded more professional," Holly suggested. "Right, Ken?" she asked. He didn't respond and so I looked up at him. His face was pale, his eyes troubled.
"What is it, Kenneth?" I demanded.
"Charlie said the guy he spoke to in L.A. told him Gina Simon was currently doing another shoot. She got the job because of this catalogue."
"Oh," Holly said.
My heart seemed to have stopped beating. It was as if all the world, all movement, all time, had frozen.
"What else did he say, Kenneth?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I wasn't sure I had even spoken. Perhaps it had just been a thought. Kenneth shook his head.
"He said her manager--"
"What?" Holly asked quickly.
"Was someone named Richard Marlin."
I shuddered as if a wave had crashed against the tavern. Someone laughed loudly and then another man entered the tavern and everyone greeted him. Kenneth gulped his ale and took a deep breath. Holly sat back, dumbfounded.
"What does it all mean, Ken?"
"I don't know. Haille supposedly died in a car fire. The remains were sent back here for the funeral and burial. The police had identification, right, Melody?"
I nodded.
"Amnesia?" Holly suggested.
"I don't know."
"That woman in the catalogue is my mother, living under a different name," I said because I had to hear the words spoken.
"Ken?"
"I don't know what to tell you, Holly."
"Well, Melody can't just be left with that," Holly said.
"I'll make some more calls, find out where this Gina Simon lives and--"
"And I'll go there," I said quickly. They both stared at me.
"Go to L.A.?" Holly asked, sitting back.
"Yes. I have to go there. Don't you see? You understand, don't you, Kenneth?"
He ran his hand through his hair.
"Why would she do this? Even after her death, she does overwhelming things. I'm right in the middle of this work. I--"
"I'm not asking you to go with me, Kenneth." He stared at me.