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Susanna’s house to steal something
    that wasn’t there.
    But what else was she supposed to do? She had the
    tape. Beau would not be pleased if he found out she’d
    had it all along—for one, he’d never pay her the fifty

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    grand. For another, he’d probably shoot her. He was
    balking as it was. If this was going to work, Alice knew
    she had to go through the motions.
    She climbed back over the snowbank. “Mrs. Dun-
    ning?” Alice stepped carefully onto the sidewalk, not
    wanting to slip. “Excuse me, ma’am, I didn’t mean to
    startle you. My name’s Audrey Melbourne—I’m new in
    town. Someone mentioned you might have a room for
    rent.” No one had, but Alice decided it was a good way
    to launch a conversation.
    The old woman’s clear green eyes cinched it for
    Alice. They were just like Susanna’s. She had to be Iris
    Dunning. “I’m sorry, I’m not renting rooms at the mo-
    ment. Are you a student?”
    Alice shook her head. “No, I’m in the process of mov-
    ing to Boston. This seems like a nice neighborhood.”
    “It is,” Iris said. “I’ve lived here for years and have
    never been robbed.”
    That would probably change, Alice thought, if she
    had to stage a robbery to convince Beau she’d gotten the
    tape off Susanna. “Well, ma’am, I don’t want to keep
    you out in the cold—”
    “Have you had supper yet? Jimmy Haviland makes
    good, hearty food. His clam chowder’s the best in the
    city, but tonight’s not chowder night.”
    Alice hated even the thought of clams. They had to
    be slimy. “I know—I was just in there. I think he’s serv-
    ing beef stew tonight.”
    “Come on, then, I’ll buy you a bowl.” Iris Dunning
    seemed ready to take Alice by the arm and walk her into
    the pub. “I was new in town and all alone once. My

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    granddaughter and daughters are out for the evening. I’d
    like the company.”
    “Ma’am, I don’t want to impose—”
    “You’re not imposing, and you can stop calling me
    ‘ma’am.’ Iris will be fine.”
    Alice was taken aback. No wonder Susanna had
    ended up here—her grandmother was a good soul
    who’d take in anyone. “I’d love a bowl of stew, Iris, but
    I’ll pay my way.”
    They entered the bar together, and Alice immedi-
    ately noticed the obvious suspicion of the owner and his
    friend with the handlebar mustache. If Iris noticed, she
    didn’t care. She headed to a back table. Alice smiled
    self-consciously at the two men, who continued to
    frown at her. Well, that was a good sign. At least Iris
    Dunning had people who looked after her. She was the
    sort of person people could easily take advantage of.
    “Now, Jimmy,” she said when the owner came over
    to take their order, “don’t start lecturing me about stran-
    gers. I can have stew with anyone I want. Miss Mel-
    bourne is new in town.”
    “Audrey,” Alice corrected with a smile.
    “I’d never lecture you, Iris,” Jimmy said. “What are
    you drinking with your stew?”
    “I think I’ll have merlot tonight. I haven’t had wine
    in ages. Alice, what about you?”
    “Oh, no, ma’am, I don’t drink. I’ll just have a Coke.”
    “And don’t skimp on the beef when you dip up my
    stew, Jimmy. I had a low-fat lunch.”
    He still didn’t seem too happy.
    Iris sighed at him, her green eyes vibrant. “Jimmy, I

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    Carla Neggers
    know about women on their own. They’re either wid-
    owed, divorced, broke, on the run or ex-cons.” She
    turned her bright gaze to her new friend. “Am I right,
    Audrey?”
    Alice laughed. “One or more of the above.”
    “ There. I knew it. I guess that’s better than ‘all of the
    above.’”
    Tess Haviland sank into the soft leather couch that
    Susanna had bought when Tess had moved out of their
    shared office space the summer before. She still had the
    remnants of her tan from her holiday in Disney World
    with Andrew Thorne, her architect husband, and seven-
    year-old Dolly. Harley Beckett,