“Never heard that name in my life,” Clara said.

“And I knew everybody on that block from 1968 until Martha died.”

“Did Arthur Pendelton ever come around the house?” I asked.

“That lawyer from down your way?” Clara laughed and sipped her fresh tea.

“Why would some lawyer from Deer Park come all the way up here over a local adoption?”

She wiped her fingers on a paper napkin and dropped it on her plate.

“You’re chasing ghost stories, honey,” Clara said.