“Wasn’t Herb born in Maine? Or wait, was he?” Wanda looked it up. “No, Clyde was from Maine. Herb was from…Montgomery, Alabama. How would Clyde have known somebody named Herb Krause from Alabama was dead? He went cemetery-hopping there?”
Tracy was putting it together, but Janya came up with an answer first. “Herb could have died anywhere, even nearby. But we can’t forget the war, because so many men died at that time. Perhaps they served together? We know Clyde was there, perhaps this Herb was there, as well.”
Tracy took up where she left off. “Yes, that makes sense. Why not just choose a name he could be sure of? Maybe Herb—the real Herb—died in combat, and Clyde knew enough about him, where he’d lived and everything, to write off for his birth certificate. Maybe they were friends.”
“So how do we prove this? Because right now it’s just a story we’re making up as we go along,” Wanda said.
“We find out if a man named Herb Krause with the same birthday died some time ago. Maybe starting with the war, then fanning out.”
“How can you find this information?” Janya asked.
“My husband, Fred…” Alice looked up. “Fred was too young to serve, you know. But he told me…” She shrugged. “They brought home his brother’s friends, he was older, Fred’s brother, and he was at Guadalcanal. And some of the men who served with him were brought home to be buried.”
“He could have been buried in a military cemetery,” Wanda said. “Like Arlington. Aren’t World War II soldiers buried there? Maybe Clyde just went to Arlington and got some name off a grave.”
“Or they were buried in the countries where they fell,” Alice said. “Then brought them home if the families could manage it. They wanted their sons…”
Tracy was making mental notes. “So he could be buried where his family lived. I guess I can make some calls to Montgomery. I’ll check online, too, and see if there’s a list of soldiers buried in military cemeteries.”
“Well, we got us some mystery.” After everyone had absorbed that, Wanda made it official. “We got us a man who might not be the man we thought he was. A man hiding himself right here in plain sight until the day he died.”
“We need more proof, but I’ll bet my life the man we knew as Herb was really Clyde Franklin and declared dead by his wife in the fifties,” Tracy said. “And before he disappeared, he grabbed his own documents and medals, which is why Herb had them.” Tracy wasn’t sure whether to be pleased they had traced things this far or discouraged because nothing they’d found had turned up a family.
“Nana?” Olivia pointed to the clock. “Daddy will be home before long.”
Alice got to her feet. “We… Lee’s coming back. Thank you for the pie.”
“Yes, thank you,” Olivia said.
“You think about those earrings,” Tracy said, walking them to the door and watching for a moment as the two, old and young, walked hand in hand back to Alice’s cottage.
“So what happens next?” Wanda got to her feet. “Besides me putting away what’s left of my pie so it don’t spoil. The way I make my crusts, that’s too likely.”
“What do you put in them?” Janya asked. “The crust was delicious.”
“My secret ingredient? Lard. Some butter, too, but lard’s the real deal. ’Course it’s harder to find these days…” She glanced at Janya, and she stopped.
Janya was staring. “What is lard?”
Wanda looked uncomfortable. “Just something I put in my pie crusts.”
Janya got to her feet. “What is it made from? Lard is animal fat?”
“I just used a little. I wasn’t thinking about that when you asked about meat, you know. I thought you meant the filling. I was thinking about the filling. All that pie had inside it was Jell-O and fruit…”
“Jell-O? Jell-O’s made from gelatin, which is an animal product, too.” Tracy had been around enough vegans in L.A. to know the rules. “Get real here.”
Janya jumped to her feet and headed for the bathroom, kicking the door closed behind her. The house was not big enough to hide the ensuing noises.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Wanda told Tracy when it was clear the worst was over in the other room, and they could hear water running in the sink. “I wasn’t trying to poison the woman. And there’s nothing wrong with my crust. It’s all in her head.”