Chapter 16: The Politest Bribe

By the time I had my jeans on, Margaret was standing on my porch.

She had not rung the bell.

She was looking at the mailbox, where I'd painted FERRIS with a brush three years ago.

"Stephanie," she said, when I opened the door. "What a thoughtful touch. It will need redoing."

"What do you want?"

"Mr. Ferris has a gap in his ten o'clock. I have booked it."

"You can't just book him."

"I already have, dear. His receptionist was delighted."

She glanced past me at the stairs, where Declan's coat hung on the newel post.

"You'll want to come, too," she said. "You'll want to hear what I'm offering, so you can't say I did it behind your back."

She walked back to her car.

The driver, a man in a gray overcoat, held the door for her and did not look at me.

Behind me, a floorboard creaked.

"I'll go out the back," Declan said, very quietly. "Be careful, Steph."

"She won't hurt me. She'll sit in a chair and be reasonable."

"That's what worries me."

Davis's office was over the hardware store.

It was one room with a leather chair, a model schooner, and a file closet he used as a second desk.

He listened to the whole story standing at the window.

"She wants me in a room alone," he said. "So that's what she'll get."

"Davis."

"You'll be in the closet."

"In the what?"

"Take your phone and press record. Stand behind the louvered door and don't sneeze."

His mouth twitched.

"I've wanted to say that to someone for nine years," he said.

At ten sharp, Margaret came up the stairs in her cream coat and sat in the leather chair without being asked.

Keep reading free with an account. Start When He Finally Found Her, She Was Already Married from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.