“Come in, come in, boy!” Garth ushered Daniel into a hallway with a floor rug that ran in perfect symmetry down the middle of polished floorboards. Daniel followed Garth into a small kitchen with a laminated table and two vinyl chairs pushed up against the far wall.

Garth strode to the stove. “Would you care for coffee?”

“I can’t stay, Garth, but—”

Garth pulled out two coffee mugs. “It’s a little lonely without my regular bridge partner, but when you get to this age, saying good-bye to your friends is just a normal part of life.”

“We all miss him terribly.”

Garth placed a steaming mug in front of Daniel. “There’s not much left of him apart from memories . . . or photos.”

The perfect opportunity. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. He left me his camera.” He left the sentence hanging to see if any expression developed. It didn’t.

“He went everywhere with that camera. Mind you, he let nobody use it. I picked it up one day, and he got very angry.”

Daniel felt the sinking disappointment of another approaching dead end. “I’m trying to find out more about why it was a special camera.”

Again he left the sentence hanging like a fishhook. Garth didn’t rise to the bait.

“I’m so pleased you came to visit. I rarely have people in my home.”

That final word echoed in Daniel’s head. Home. “How long have you lived here?”

“Thirty years. Joan passed ten years ago next month.”

Thirty years. That was it, then. He’d never lived on the streets.

Garth’s eyes glazed over as he fell into a river of nostalgia. “One thing about your Gramps is that the older he got, the clearer his vision became. He could see through you like you were made of glass. You couldn’t hide anything from him.”

Daniel built up enough silence for Garth to fill the space with information. It worked.

“I’m glad he could. I had a drinking problem, you know. At first it was to cope with losing Joan, and I had a glass of wine to manage the loneliest of nights. But then it became a way for me to manage the toughest of days. Then just any day. I didn’t realize how much it was managing me.”

Daniel took a deep mouthful of too-hot coffee and choked as he swallowed the burning liquid. He had to move Garth along.

“I was hiding my drinking from everyone. No one knew, or so I thought. Then one day your Gramps sat me down—in that very chair you’re sitting in—and told me he could see my heart and how I would end up if I kept drinking.”

See my heart . . . Another forced gulp of burning coffee.