lining up more pain for myself? I felt better once I'd admitted all this in my secret heart. While we waited on a red light, I looked over at Martin, who was staring out the window at the bare trees. The sky had that leaden gray look that often presages snow, at least in my very limited experience.
"I guess we should talk to Cindy, and then Craig's brother," I said. I didn't sound excited about it.
"Yes, we need to," my husband agreed, turning to look across the seat at me. "And we need to track down Rory and see if we can get any more out of him. And we probably need to move our stuff out to the farmhouse. It'll be a lot easier with a stove and refrigerator. And more than one room." "It" being the care of Hayden, I gathered. I noticed we weren't saying one word about walking out of the Harbors' house with him, when we'd gone in with the resolve of leaving the baby with Craig's family.
"I wonder if the police have been out there, to the farm," I said, the idea sort of slipping into my head sideways.
Martin looked surprised, then thoughtful. "You'd think they'd want to see if anything Craig and Regina left out there could explain what happened," he said. "If the Lawrenceton sheriffs department called them. And I'm assuming they did." Martin mulled it over a little. "I know who to call. An old friend of mine named Karl Bagosian has a key to the house, and if anyone knows, he will." We parked in front of the florist's shop owned by Cindy Bartell. I'd been there once before. Then, there had been Easter decorations in the big window facing the sidewalk. Now it was filled with fall decorations. Through that window, over the top of a miniature corn sheaf, I could see Cindy's head of smooth black hair bent over a gift basket on the large worktable behind the counter. Martin was opening my car door, which he'd somewhat fallen out of the habit of doing. I had never seen door opening as an issue, but I used his choice as a clue to his feelings. As Martin held out his hand to help me out of the Mercedes, he looked down as if he was trying to refresh his memory of my face. I was all too aware that my hair had been excited by the rain into separating into streamers with waves and curls interrupting their wild flow. My London Fog was not exactly a sexy garment, and I was sure my nose was shiny. I couldn't remember what glasses I'd put on this morning, so I reached up to touch the frames. The gold-tone wire rims.
"I was right," he said unexpectedly. Without further explanation, he unbuckled Hayden from the car seat in the back. He lifted the baby out, handed him to me, and in we went to interrupt his ex-wife's workday. The bell attached to the door ting-a-linged when we entered, and Cindy looked up. "Martin, Aurora, how good to see you," Cindy said with a minimum of enthusiasm. "I see you survived the drive." She laid down the dried flowers she'd been working with, dusted her hands on her apron, and came around the counter. She actually shook hands with us, which I thought was a bit much. After all, she'd been married to Martin. She could've given him a little hug or something. Then I noticed the large man just rising from a desk behind the counter. He got up, and up, stopping finally at about six-foot-five. He had a full mustache and dark hair peppered with gray, clipped even shorter than Cindy's. He also possessed a notable set of shoulders, and hands as big as my face. I found myself hoping he'd turn around so I could have a peek at the rear view. "This is Dennis Stinson, Aurora," Cindy said, smiling. I'd never seen her smile. It made her look like a million dollars. I propped the baby over my shoulder so I could spare a hand for the hunk, and my fingers vanished in Dennis Stinson's. "Martin, I know you remember Dennis from high school." "Of course. It's been a long time," Martin said, and I had to fight not to grin at the coolness in his voice.
"I guess this is the baby you were telling me about?" Cindy held out her arms, and I gently eased Hayden into them.