“Well,” Annie said after Sam told her what Vera had said, “that means she could have gone to Saskatchewan on her own during the summer.”

“And written the book,” Sam added.

“Then all we have to do is call the publisher and ask if Susan Lang is a pen name for Sarah.”

“I don’t know. They might not tell me. People use pen names because they don’t want the readers to know who they really are.” He thought for a moment then said, “I’ve got an idea.”

He got the number of the publisher from information and dialed. Smiling at Annie he said to the woman who answered. “I’ve just finished reading Newfies And Their Friends, and I’d like to send my compliments to the author. Could you please give me the address of Susan Lang?”

“I’m sorry, but we don’t release addresses of our authors. We’re pleased you enjoyed the book, and, if you’d like, you may write Ms. Lang in care of our address and we’ll forward it.”

Assuming a confidential just-between-us tone, he said, “I’m an old friend of hers and we’ve lost touch. This is kind of personal and I’d like to write her directly.”

“I appreciate that,” she said, “but our policy is not to release authors’ addresses.”

Angry at being thwarted by what he was sure was an entry-level lackey, he demanded, “Let me speak to Ms. Lang’s editor.”

“One moment, please.” A button was pushed and the line dropped into a black hole.

Sam covered the mouthpiece and said to Annie, “She’s got me on hold, probably telling somebody to pretend they’re the editor.”

“Yes,” a voice came on the line. “May I help you.”

“I hope so. I’m an old friend of Susan Lang’s and I’d like to send her a personal note, congratulating her on her book.”

“Oh yes, Newfies And Their Friends. A wonderful book. Just send your letter to us and we will forward it unopened.”

Sam wanted to blast her, but realized it would get him nowhere. “If I mail it to you, how long will it be before you forward it?”

“Just as soon as it’s received.”

He asked for the address of the publisher and to whose attention the letter should be sent, and slammed down the phone.

“Goddammed unimaginative people.”

“For Christ’s sake, calm down” Annie shouted, some of Sam’s anger rubbing off on her. “For all they know, you’re gonna shoot the author because you didn’t like the book.”

Maggie joined the fray, pushing her huge fury body between them and woofing once to restore order. This brought Molly from the other room and both dogs pressed themselves against Sam’s and Annie’s legs asking for reassurance that the fight was over.

“Okay,” Annie said, sitting down and letting Maggie lick her face. “We’re not mad.” She looked up at Sam and nodded for him to make up with Molly.

He rubbed her head. “It’s not you, sweetheart. It’s the underlings in the world with a little power.”

Annie got up. “Go sit down on the porch, Sam, and I’ll bring you a drink.”

He grunted and went to the porch, the dogs trailing behind. Annie arrived with the drinks, a pad of paper and a pen. She sat down beside him on the swing. “If Susan Lang really is Susan Lang, then this book’s a dead end. If she’s Sarah then there’s a chance she’s alive and able to read the letter you write. Have your drink and write the letter. We’ll reread it in the morning and send it.”

Sam sighed, took a sip of scotch and began writing.

Dear Sarah, Why are you doing this to us?

Annie looked over his shoulder. “No,” she said shaking her head. “What if we’re wrong? What if she really is Susan Lang? You’d feel like an ass.”

Sam thought for a while, then wrote:

Dear Ms. Lang,
My name is Sam Langley and I’ve fallen in love with Newfoundlands. My address and phone number are below. I would appreciate hearing from you as to any books in process.

Annie read it, then rolled her eyes. “Yuk!”

Sam threw down the wadded paper, hitting Molly on the head. The big dog ignored the slight. “What do you want me to say?”

Annie lost her patience. “I think you’re afraid she is Sarah and you’re so dammed mad at her, you can’t write a decent letter.”

Sam glared at her, but said nothing.

In the silence that followed, he sulked and Annie relaxed. The swing began to move slowly as her toes touched the floor. The puppies, awakened by the loud voices, began tumbling over each other in the whelping box, some trying out growls and others making little yapping sounds. Maggie raised her head and looked in their direction, then laid it back down.

“Okay,” Annie said. “Both of us think there’s a chance that this Susan is Sarah and we’re assuming that the book means Sarah is alive. Now I’m going to tell you what I’ll say to Sarah when we find her, and then I want to hear what you’d say.” Sam didn’t reply so Annie started in. “If I saw Sarah walking up the path right there, I’d run to her and throw my arms around her and kiss her, and then we’d both cry and hold each other.” She was almost crying as she spoke. “Then I’d say, ‘I don’t know why you did this. I’m just so glad you’re back.’”

Sam listened, then turned to her. “That’s all?”

“What else is there?”

“How about, ‘Where the hell have you been for two years? Why’d you let us believe you were dead? Why’d you sneak most of your inheritance into some secret account — were you planning to run away?’”

“And?” Annie said, her eyes flashing.

“And, ‘Why in God’s name have you been playing cat and mouse with us the last three months?’”

“There’s your answer right there,” she said so loud both dogs raised their heads. “If I was her, I wouldn’t show myself either.”

This quieted him. He let his body ease into the rocking of the swing. The dogs put their heads back down.

“Do you want to find her?” Annie waited for an answer and didn’t get one. “Or do you just want to put the matter to rest? Get it over with?”

Sam stared at the river as the late afternoon sun sent long shadows across the yard. “When I came out here this morning I was ready to buy that house, ready to start a whole new life. I’d put this damn Sarah thing behind me. Then I read the words, To Sam forever. Now I’m all mixed up again.”

“Do you love her, Sam?”

He glanced at her and then back to the river. “Love her?” His voice was pensive. “I don’t even know her.” He thought some more. “Apparently I didn’t know her two years ago when she withdrew all her money and started making trips she didn’t tell me about. I thought I knew her and I loved the person I thought was Sarah.”

Annie said some words so quietly that Sam had to ask what she’d said. “I said, I loved the person I know Sarah was. The Sarah I knew wasn’t putting on a front.”

“I can see that in the pictures you took. But that was two years ago. What’s she like now?”

“If she’s alive I think she’s lonely and afraid. I think she’s suffering. I want to help her.”

Sam nodded his head slowly in rhythm with the swing. He was tired. It’d been a long day. Holding Annie’s hand he let his thoughts come out in words. “The truth is, I think about her all the time. She’s like a spirit coming toward me through a fog. I want to reach out and touch her, but she’s never quite there.” He turned to Annie and forced out words he hadn’t wanted to say. “She’s a ghost, Annie. I can’t touch her because she’s dead.” For more than a minute the only sound was the swing’s chains squeaking against the hooks in the porch ceiling. Abruptly, Sam planted his feet on the floor, stopping the swing, startling Annie.

“I’ve got it,” he announced. “I’m going to Saskatchewan and Maine and ask those people if Susan Lang and Sarah are the same person.”

“Could you do that? Could you get away?”

“I don’t see why not. Russ can take care of himself and Kathleen would look out for him if he needed help.”

Annie was quiet, looking doubtful. “And just what the hell are you going to say to those people in the book? ‘I read Newfies and Their Friends and I wonder if you can tell me if the author is my missing wife?’ I don’t think you’d get past their door.”

Sam’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. Anyway, I don’t know where they live.”

“I can help with that. I’ve got the names and addresses of all the Newfoundland breeders and kennels in the world.”

“That’s a start.” But his voice was fading. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just a crazy idea.”

“Hmm.” Annie sounded like she agreed with him. “Would you tell your kids what you were doing?”

“I’d have to. I couldn’t just up and take off.” The picture of sitting in his living room telling them he was going to Saskatchewan flashed through his mind. Visualizing Cynthia’s reaction, he began to smile. “Cynthia already thinks I’m getting senile and that I’m having an affair with you. No matter what I say, she’ll think I’m taking off on a honeymoon.”

Annie was serious. “You could show them the book. Compare the pictures with Sarah’s other pictures. Show them the dedication.”

“And the similarity of the names,” Sam said, his determination returning. “One thing’s for damned sure. I’m going. If this is Sarah and she was with them after she disappeared, then we’ll know there’s a good chance she’s alive.”

“In the meantime, we could still write Susan Lang,” Annie said. “It couldn’t hurt. If she really is Susan, and if she bothers to answer, she’ll simply say she didn’t know Sarah.”

“Okay, but I’m not sitting around and waiting for an answer that might never come.”

Annie laughed. “You’re excited. It looks good on you.”

He smiled. “I am, aren’t I? I feel like I’m doing something positive.” He went to the kitchen and brought the phone back to the porch. “Wish me luck. I’m inviting the family to my house for dinner tomorrow night.” He dialed Cynthia’s number and got her service. When he identified himself, they said they’d have her call as soon as possible. Then he realized he’d have to leave Annie’s number. Oh, what the hell, he thought, and left it.

It wasn't until after dinner that Cynthia called. “What is this phone number?” were her first words. “Where are you?”

“I’m at Annie Haas’s house. Look, something has come up that I want to tell you and Kathleen and Russ about. Can you come over for dinner tomorrow night?”

The line was silent for a moment, then a suspicious Cynthia asked, “Dad, has this got anything to do with that woman?”

“Who?”

“That woman you’re staying with?” Sam closed his eyes and shook his head in dismay. He held the phone in his lap as his daughter’s voice called to him. “Dad? Dad?”

“No,” he sighed, speaking into the phone. I never should have called, he said to himself, and almost hung up. Relenting, he went on. “I have something important to tell you and it doesn’t concern Annie.”

“I think I know what it is,” his daughter said, quickly shifting her tone. “Dorothy called me. You’ve put your house on the market. I’m proud of you, Dad. Dinner tomorrow night? We’ll be there and I won’t tell the others about Beverly Arms. I don’t want to steal your thunder.” Sam’s mouth dropped open. Just as he was about to speak, Cynthia asked, “What time? Eight would be best for us. Is that all right?”

Dazed, Sam agreed and hung up. “She thinks I’m moving to a retirement home.” Annie’s laughter exploded.

Then he called Kathleen who said she’d be there, and Russ, who said, “So where the hell else am I going?”

“I’ve still got to write the letter,” Sam said. “I want you to read it before I send it.”

Sam had wadded up three unsuccessful attempts before he showed Annie what he’d written:

Dear Ms. Lang,
My wife is a professional photographer who has photographed Newfoundlands for the past several years. We were separated two years ago as a result of an unfortunate incident, and now I want very much to be with her again. Since you both photograph Newfies, I thought you might know her. Her name is Sarah Langley. I’d appreciate any help you could give me in locating her. My address and phone number are below. I love her very much.

Annie read the letter. “That’s perfect. If there really is a Susan Lang, she’ll probably ignore it. If she’s Sarah she’ll get in touch.”

The next morning as Sam was leaving, Annie asked, “Do you have the book to show your kids?”

“It’s packed.”

“What should I tell Francis about the house?”

“Tell him I love the house and am very interested, but . . I don’t know, Annie. All I can think about is finding Sarah.” He frowned as he searched for the right thing to say. “Tell him I want to buy the house, but I’ll have to sell my house first.”

“You may lose it if you wait.”

”I know. I seem to be good at losing things.”

Annie, Maggie and Molly walked him to his car. “I want you to find her, Sam. I want her to be with us again.” She turned to him and took his hands in hers. There were tears in her eyes. “But . .” Sobbing, she kissed him hard on the lips, then turned and ran to the house.

The Newfies swung their hairy heads to watch her go, then back to Sam. Confused, they trotted off after Annie.>

Chapter Seventeen