“Stop here!” she said.
The startled cabbie screeched to a halt. Before he could say anything, Rose leapt out of the car and ran to the spot where she’d just seen her father.
She’d seen him. Standing there in a pair of khaki Dockers and his favorite Mötley Crüe tee shirt, smoking his pipe on the sidewalk outside the old Barnes house on Union Street in their hometown of Red Bud, Illinois.
But she couldn’t have seen him.
“Daddy died 10 years ago,” she said in a whisper.
“Did he?” a voice whispered back.
