Chapter 9: Table by the Window

I ran the four blocks to the bakery with my apron still on.

The Sunday crowd was in, twelve or fifteen people with coffee and cinnamon rolls, and every one of them was watching the corner table.

Margaret Hargrove sat there in a cream coat with her silver hair swept back and pearl studs in her ears.

Posy was on her knee, swinging her legs and eating a sugar cookie.

Margaret was holding the cookie for her, with a napkin, so she wouldn't drip.

She looked up and smiled at me.

It was a pleasant smile, and it did not reach her eyes.

"Stephanie," she said. "There you are. What a charming shop."

I crossed the room and lifted Posy off her lap.

Posy protested, because she still had cookie in her hand.

"Mama Steph, the lady knows a lot of things. She knows my bunny's name."

"Does she?"

"It's a secret name," said Posy. "Nobody knows it. Only Daddy and you."

I looked at Margaret.

Margaret picked up a paper napkin and folded it into a small square.

"I asked her nicely," she said. "She's a delightful child."

"Dot," I said. "Take Posy in the back."

Dot was already at my elbow.

She took Posy in her arms, glared at Margaret over her head, and went through the kitchen door.

The bakery was so quiet I could hear the coffee machine ticking.

I put my hands flat on the table.

"You followed me for four years," I said. "You know my daughter's name. You know the name of her toy rabbit. What did you do, ask the mailman?"

"My dear, I only wanted to meet her."

"You came a week early."

"I had a spare afternoon."

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