anxiety in her eyes. Sarah knew what she feared, but reassuring the woman that she had no intention of taking Brian and Frank Malloy away from her wouldn’t help. Instead she said, “You’ve done such a wonderful job with him.”
Mrs. Malloy blinked in surprise. Had she expected to be insulted? “He’s a good boy,” she managed, not taking any credit for herself.
Brian had reached the bottom step again, and Sarah dutifully applauded him as required. When he turned to repeat his efforts, Sarah said to Mrs. Malloy, “I don’t suppose your son is at home.”
Mrs. Malloy didn’t approve of Sarah chasing after her son, which was how she saw their relationship. “He never come home last night. Probably slept down at Mulberry Street, like he does when he works late,” she informed Sarah with some satisfaction.
Sarah nodded, relieved. This meant he’d probably already gotten the message she’d left for him there. She had to stop and applaud Brian again. When he started back up the steps, she turned back to Mrs. Malloy. “When he gets home, would you tell him I called to say I got the information he wanted?”
The old woman wanted to ask what that information was, but she didn’t want to look curious or nosy. She also didn’t agree to Sarah’s request, which would have given Sarah more respect than she thought she deserved. “I can’t invite you in,” she said instead. “We’re on our way to Mass.”
“Does Brian like church?” she asked, applauding yet another of his efforts on the steps.
“He can’t hear it,” she reminded Sarah unnecessarily. “He likes the candles and the windows, though. And seeing all the people.”
“I’m sure he does.” She waited until he reached the bottom step and clapped again.
“He’ll keep that up till he drops if you let him,” Mrs. Malloy said. “We’re going to be late.”
The next time Brian reached the bottom step, Sarah stooped down and gave him a big hug. “It was so nice to see you,” she said with a smile. He couldn’t understand the words, but he knew what the smile meant.
She looked up at Mrs. Malloy. “He’ll start to cry if I leave now. Could I walk along with you to the church?”
Even Mrs. Malloy could see the wisdom of that. Brian was too big to drag, resisting, down the street. “If it suits you,” she said.
They each took one of Brian’s hands and directed him down the street. He looked up at both of them, beaming with pleasure.
“I can’t believe how quickly he learned to walk,” Sarah marveled.
“He’s always been clever,” Mrs. Malloy reminded her curtly.
They walked for a block in silence while Sarah tried to think of something to say that the other woman wouldn’t interpret as an insult. Before she could think of anything, Mrs. Malloy spoke.
“Frances said I should thank you for helping Brian.” She sounded like a child who had been ordered to apologize when she wasn’t sorry.
Sarah managed not to smile at the thought. “I didn’t do anything except tell Mr. Malloy about Dr. Newton. He’s the one who does the miracles, not I.”
Mrs. Malloy crossed herself quickly, as if Sarah had blasphemed, and gave her a black look. Sarah had a fleeting memory of Mrs. Ellsworth warning her about the evil eye. “Only God does miracles,” the old woman informed her.
“Of course,” Sarah agreed. “I didn’t mean it that way. It does seem miraculous that Brian can walk, though, doesn’t it? He must be wearing you out.”
“I can manage,” she said defensively, almost desperately.
Sarah had unwittingly touched another nerve, and she sighed in exasperation. “Mrs. Malloy, I have great respect for your son and great affection for your grandson, but surely Mr. Malloy has told you that he and I are merely friends and nothing more.”
Mrs. Malloy looked over at Sarah. “I have eyes, don’t I?” was all she said. Sarah had no idea what she meant by that and decided it would be foolish to ask.
Luckily, the church was on the next corner, and Mrs. Malloy managed to distract Brian while Sarah slipped away. She realized her trip here had been wasted if Malloy was at Police Headquarters. Or he might already be waiting for her at her house. But at least she’d gotten to see Brian and judge the progress he was making for herself.
As for seeing Malloy, she certainly hoped he would have a good idea for how to get Mrs. Donato to confess – an idea that didn’t involve taking her down to Police Headquarters and giving her the third degree. If he could get a confession, maybe there wouldn’t be a trial and all the accompanying scandal. The girls at the mission certainly didn’t need any more trauma in their lives.
When Sarah turned the corner onto Bank Street, she saw a man sitting on her doorstep. For an instant, she thought it was Malloy and her heart leaped with an excitement she felt for nothing else in her life. Then the man stood up, and she realized it wasn’t Malloy at all. She told herself not to be disappointed. A millionaire was waiting for her, after all, and he’d brought her a bouquet of flowers.
Richard Dennis hurried down the street to meet her. “Good morning,” he said when he reached her. “I hope you don’t mind my calling this early and waiting for you. Mrs. Ellsworth assured me it would be fine.”
“I’m sure she did,” Sarah said with a smile. She couldn’t help noticing her neighbor had made herself scarce, too, for once. Probably, she was intimidated because Richard was her son’s employer. “I hope you didn’t have to wait long.”
“Not at all,” he assured her, falling into step with her to return to her house. “I felt I owed you an apology after the way I behaved last night.”
“I told you, I had a wonderful time,” she reminded him.
“Until I ruined it with my memories. I’m afraid I was feeling a little melancholy, in spite of the festivities.”
“That’s only natural. I’m sure being with your old friends reminded you of your wife. Won’t you come in? I can make some coffee, and I have some pie.”
He glanced down at the bouquet he still held. “Oh, and I guess I have some flowers for you. To prove my apology is sincere,” he added, offering them to her.
“The flowers weren’t necessary, but they are appreciated,” Sarah said, accepting the gift. They were red roses, and she knew they must have cost a fortune and taken a monumental effort to procure. Flower shops would be closed on Sunday, and roses weren’t blooming anywhere near the city on the first of November.
Without even thinking, Sarah settled Richard into one of the chairs in her front room, by the front window. She didn’t ask herself why she hadn’t invited him into the kitchen, as she always did with Malloy. Richard, she decided, just wasn’t that type of man.
A short while later, she served the coffee and the remains of Mrs. Ellsworth’s apple pie. They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes.
“I guess I owe you yet another apology, too,” he said at last.
“For what?”
“For involving you in the mission. If I hadn’t asked you to accompany me there, you never would have met the girl who was murdered.”
“I’ve thought about that a lot,” Sarah admitted. “Life would be simpler if we didn’t get involved with other people, wouldn’t it? On the other hand, if the girl hadn’t been wearing my clothes, there’s a good chance no one would even have known who she was. The people at the mission and” – Sarah had almost said her family – “and those who loved her would never have known what became of her, either.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted. “On the other hand, if she’d just disappeared, they could have imagined her alive and happy someplace else.”
“That would be difficult,” she said. “Girls like Emilia don’t usually have happy lives, particularly if they just disappear into the streets.”
“Or even if they find a home at the mission, apparently,” he reminded her.
He frowned. “What did the mother say when she confessed? Did she explain why she did it?”
Suddenly, the sweet pie tasted like sawdust in her mouth. “She hasn’t confessed yet,” Sarah admitted. “She hasn’t even been arrested.”
“Then you don’t know for sure she did it,” he challenged.
“Well,” Sarah hedged, “all the evidence points to her.”
