Excerpt from Isabel's Daughter by Judith Ryan Hendricks, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Can you tell me-" I turn for a last look at the portrait. "Who is she?"

He clears his throat. "Her name was Isabel Colinas."

"Was?" My head swivels around and I try to hold my expression in neutral, but his face says it all too clearly.

"God, what am I thinking? I'm sorry. I should have-- She....passed away. Some years ago."

"Oh." I nod. And I keep nodding, like one of those dolls on a car dashboard. "Well.....finding her was a lot to ask. I guess finding her alive was a bit much."

"I'm sorry," he says again. "Look, this has to be difficult for you. I can have someone take you home-"

"I never knew her." I blot my forehead with the now warm washcloth. "I don't harbor a lot of daughterly feelings."

He reaches into his shirt pocket, holds out a card. "I'd be happy to talk to you about her," he says. "Call me when you're ready."

"Thank you." I stick the card in my pocket without looking at it and head for the door. When I pull it shut behind me, Paul DeGraf is kneeling on the floor picking up chiles rellenos.

The foregoing is excerpted from Isabel's Daughter by Judith Ryan Hendricks. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission from HarperCollins Publishers, 10 East 53rd Street, New York, NY 10022