Chương 2
For the first time, something shifted in her expression. Not trust. Perhaps the awareness that adults could lie about unimportant things for reasons other than control.
Mara understood. “Tea. Sure.”
“And whatever a seven-year-old would eat if she hadn’t eaten.”
“I ate.”
“When?”
Lucy looked toward the door.
Richard waited.
“Yesterday.”
Mara’s face tightened.
“Grilled cheese,” she said. “No questions.”
Lucy opened her mouth.
Mara was already walking away.
The man in the gray sweater chose a table near the window. Too far away to hear without appearing to listen. Close enough to watch the reflection in the glass.
Richard had noticed the same trick in interviews. People often believed reflections did not count as looking.
“Is he armed?” Richard asked softly.
Lucy’s eyes widened.
“I don’t know.”
“Did you see a gun?”
“No.”
“Knife?”
“No.”
“Did he hurt your mother?”
Her grip on the doll changed.
Richard disliked himself immediately.
He had asked it like a prosecutor.
He tried again.
“Tell me only what you saw.”
Lucy stared at the table.
Richard did not fill the silence.
Steam hissed from behind the counter. Someone at the far end of the café whispered into a phone. A man with a newspaper folded it and stood, apparently deciding his coffee was no longer worth the atmosphere.
Lucy finally said, “They came to the apartment last night.”
“Whose apartment?”
“Ours.”
“Where?”
She named an address on the west side.
Richard recognized the neighborhood. Old warehouses renovated into rentals, some legal, some not. Anna had hated that part of the city when she was young because the elevated train screamed around a curve two blocks away.
“Who came?”
“Two men.”
“The one by the window?”
“Yes.”
“And the other?”
“I didn’t see his face good.”
“Did your mother know them?”
Lucy nodded.
“How?”
“She called one Mr. Cole.”
Richard did not react outwardly.
The name meant nothing to him.
“What happened?”
“She told me to get my coat.”
“Before they arrived?”
“Yes.”
“She expected them?”
“I think so.”
“Why didn’t you leave?”
“She was packing.”
“What?”
“Things.”
“Lucy.”
Her eyes sharpened.
He stopped.
Specific questions would get specific answers, but he was not in a courtroom, and she was not a witness he could afford to exhaust.
Mara brought a mug of tea and set it in front of Richard. She placed a glass of water near Lucy.
“Food’s coming.”
Lucy whispered, “Thank you.”
Mara glanced toward the man by the window. “Do you want me to call somebody?”
Richard said, “Not yet.”
Mara’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I like that answer.”
“Neither do I.”
“You know him?”
“No.”
“Then why is a terrified child hiding behind you?”
“She’s not hiding.”
Lucy looked at him.
Richard corrected himself. “She was hiding.”
Mara folded her arms.
Richard had known Mara for four years. She had become manager of the café after the previous owner’s son bought a second location and discovered he enjoyed expansion more than work. She knew Richard drank one espresso after three o’clock despite his cardiologist’s opinion. She knew he preferred the corner table. She knew he tipped twenty percent even when service was bad and twenty-five when Elise remembered not to ask whether he wanted foam.
Mara had never seen him practicing law.
She had never seen him frightened.
“Give me five minutes,” he said.
“Three.”
“That seems arbitrary.”
“It is.”
She returned to the counter.
Lucy watched her go.
“She doesn’t listen to you.”
“Very few intelligent people do.”
Lucy looked toward the man in the window.
“He’s waiting.”
“For what?”
“For me to leave.”
Richard followed her gaze through the reflection rather than turning.
The man had taken out his phone.
“Do you know his name?”
Lucy shook her head.
“Did your mother?”
“I think so.”
“Did she say it?”
“No.”
“Did he say hers?”
“Yes.”
“What did he call her?”
“Annie.”
Richard’s breath stopped for half a second.
Anna’s mother had called her Annie.
No one else had been allowed to.
When Anna turned thirteen, she announced at dinner that Annie was a baby’s name and that anyone using it would be ignored. Richard had tested the rule once. She ignored him for two days, even when he offered to drive her to a movie.
“Who else called her Annie?” he asked.
Lucy shrugged.
“My grandma did before she died.”
“What was your grandmother’s name?”
“Margaret.”
Richard looked down at the photograph again.
His wife had been Margaret.
Margaret Vale had been dead fourteen years.
The room seemed to tilt, not visibly, but enough that Richard placed both palms flat against the table.
Lucy noticed.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t look okay.”
“I’m old. We covered that.”
She frowned.
“What did your mother tell you about me?”
“Not much.”
“That sounds like her.”
“She said you were mean.”
Richard almost laughed.
It came out as air through his nose.
“Also sounds like her.”
“She said you thought you were right even when you weren’t.”
“That’s hereditary.”
Lucy stared at him.
He lifted one hand. “A family problem.”
For a second, the corner of her mouth moved.
Then the bell above the door chimed as the man at the far table stood.
Richard’s body became still.
The man did not approach them. He walked to the counter.
“Bathroom?”
Elise pointed. “Hallway on the left.”
“Thanks.”
He disappeared toward the rear.
Richard waited three seconds.
“Elise.”
She came closer.
“Is there another exit from that hallway?”
“Kitchen service door.”
“Alarmed?”
“No.”
“Does it open to the alley?”
“Yes.”
“Lock it.”
“He might already be—”
“Lock it.”
She went.
Richard turned to Lucy.
“We’re leaving through the front.”
“No.”
“We are.”
“He’ll see.”
“That’s the point.”
Her face changed.
Richard leaned closer.
“If he follows, Mara calls the police and tells them exactly which direction we went. If he doesn’t follow, we learn he has another plan.”
“I said no police.”
“And I heard you.”
“You don’t listen either.”
“No. I’m related to you.”
May you like
She glared.
The grilled cheese arrived.
