LITMIR.BIZ

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brushed away the crumbs that had collected on her ample bosom. “But you were going to tell me something.”

      Was she really as vague as she let on, or was it all an elaborate act? She seemed genuine enough, but Ben kept his eyes on the woman’s face, watching for a telltale shift in expression as he said, “As a matter of fact, I’m looking for your grand-niece.”

      “Why?” It wasn’t a challenge. Curiosity filtered into her eyes.

      He began to give Sugar the story he’d rehearsed on his way up here. “I represent Jacob Marley’s estate—”

      “Jacob Marley….” She closed her eyes, rolling the name over in her mind. Then, opening them again, she shook her head. “I don’t believe I know the man.”

      “No, ma’am, probably not.” Especially since he’d borrowed the name from Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, Ben thought. “But he’s left Gloria a sizable amount of money—”

      Sugar clapped her hands together in simple, childish delight. “How wonderful. The poor dear could so use the money. I couldn’t give her very much when she came. She promised to pay me back, but I told her I wouldn’t hear of it. I’m the only family she has, you know.”

      “Yes, I do.” Ben tried to press on before the woman became distracted again. “We have no forwarding address for her—”

      Fluffy, cloudlike white hair bobbed up and down as Sugar nodded in agreement.

      “That’s because she’s not where she used to be.” She leaned forward, her voice dropping for a moment. “Can’t be, you know. Too bad, it made her sad to leave.”

      This had to be what Alice felt like, trying to carry on a conversation with the creatures inhabiting Wonderland, Ben thought. Still, he was making some progress. “Do you know where she is now?”

      “Not really.” Sugar paused to nibble thoughtfully on one of her cookies. “But she said something about San Francisco. That’s where she went to school, you know. Bright, bright girl.” She sighed as that memory, too, slipped away from her. “Worked in a bookstore during those years. Practically ran the place. Don’t know when she ever slept. The manager liked her, I could tell. Never acted on it, though.” Suddenly realizing that her visitor was no longer chewing, she pushed the plate a little closer still. “Another cookie?” This time, the plate practically landed in his lap.

      “Would you happen to know the name of the bookstore?” Gloria had to work, he thought. Maybe she’d touched base with the owner of the store, asking for a job. It was a long shot to say the least, but long shots had a way of paying off if you were persistent enough. Besides, it was a starting point. San Francisco was a big city to wander around in aimlessly.

      “Why, as a matter of fact I do.” Proudly, she recited the name of a popular chain that was currently sweeping the country, replacing older, independent stores. “It’s located at Taylor and Turk. Or is it Turk and Taylor? I never know which way to say that.” She looked pleased with herself for remembering the location. “I went there a few times myself. The bookstore,” she clarified, almost more for her benefit than for his.

      It was time to go, Ben thought. He could see she was about to push another cookie on him. “One last question. Did Gloria have a little boy with her?”

      Sugar blinked, staring at him as if he had just asked her if the sky was blue on a sunny day. “Well, of course she did. Why wouldn’t she? She was moving, you know.”

      “Yes, so I gathered.” On his feet, he extended his hand to her. “Well, you’ve been a great help.”

      Sugar took the compliment as her due. “That’s what Gloria said. But I couldn’t help enough. Not her. Here.” She slipped three large cookies into his pocket. “For later. You might get hungry.”

      He left feeling somewhat guilty about deceiving a woman who seemed bent on helping everyone who crossed her path.

      The sun grazed off the window as she passed, catching her attention. Raising her eyes, surprise drenched her when she saw the reflection.

      Idiot.

      It still startled her, at unguarded moments, to see the different face looking back at her. To realize that the woman with the short, dark hair and blue eyes was not someone else, but her. In her mind’s eye, she was still a blonde, still green-eyed. Yet now she was a woman with a life that held promise instead of one who had come full circle, returning to what she’d once felt was the beginning of the road.

      Not the end, just a breather. She had to remember that.

      With effort, she shook herself free of the morose mood. It wasn’t like her. No matter what, she’d always looked on the positive side. Stopping, she tucked a book back into place on the shelf.

      There was more reason than ever to focus on the positive side. There wasn’t just herself to think of. Her son needed her.

      Her son.

      She looked at her watch. The last customer she’d helped had taken more time than she’d judged. If she was going to be at the school in time to pick Andrew—no, Jesse, she upbraided herself. If she was going to be in time to pick Jesse up, she was going to have to get going. Now.

      “I’m taking my break now, Jon,” she called out to the burly man nursing a cup of espresso at the information counter.

      The bald-headed man gave a half nod in acknowledgment to her announcement and went back to perusing a copy of one of the books UPS had dropped off this morning.

      She smiled to herself. Some things never changed. Jon Peterson was lost to the world when he had his nose stuck in a good mystery. He’d been that way during the four years she’d worked here while she’d attended college. Heaven help anyone if they approached him with a question. Like as not, Jon was apt to send them into the self-help section even if they asked for a cookbook.

      She blessed Jon for the umpteenth time since she’d arrived more than three weeks ago. If not for him and his calming influence, she could very well have come unglued that first night in San Francisco. If he had been away on one of his many minivacations that he’d always loved to take…well, she didn’t want to think about it.

      Trying to get to the front doors, she found her path blocked by a well-built man in his early twenties wearing a pricey sheepskin jacket and a cheap smile. He made no effort to move out of her way.

      “Since you’re free, why don’t I buy you a cup of coffee to go along with that break?”

      She’d been uncomfortably aware that the man had been sizing her up for at least the last fifteen minutes, meandering closely behind her as she stocked new books on the shelves. She’d caught him looking at her at least three times, attempting to make eye contact. She’d looked away each time. He gave her the shivers. Not the good kind.

      Maybe it was her situation that made her so edgy, so suspect of every man who looked her way. Maybe she was being unduly sensitive and the man was just trying to strike up a conversation, nothing more.

      But whatever he was attempting to do, she had no time for it. As it was, if she didn’t hurry, she was going to be late.

      Since he was a potential customer, she strove to remain polite. “No, thank you, I have an errand to run.” Sidestepping him, she tried to get by.

      One quick movement and he was in front of her again, blocking her path. He was not a man who was about to take no for an answer. “You work here, don’t you?”

      She glanced toward Jon, but his nose was buried in the book. None of the other people who worked in the store were within eye-contact range. She raised her head defiantly as she looked back at the man.

      “Yes.”

      His eyes washing over her, he was obviously taken with what he saw. “Well then, whatever happened to that old saying, the customer is always right?”

      “That depends on what the

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