“Because he asked me if yellow girls are allowed to serve drinks. He fancied I could help him behind the bar.”
Lily blanched. “Did he touch you, Fedora?”
“I wouldn’t let him. He tried. I ducked and ran. He was drunk and fell over himself running after me.”
“Good.” She looked at Roen. “That’s one person on your list you will not be hiring.”
“Already made a note of it.” Roen turned to Fedora. “I suppose it’s possible that either of these men are leaving you the messages, but judging by their behavior, I would say they’d prefer to harass you than see you gone. Is there anyone at Mrs. Brady’s that you suspect?”
Fedora hesitated. “No.”
Lily said, “I’m not convinced, Fedora.”
“I’m telling the truth,” she said. “It’s just that...”
“Yes?”
“I don’t suspect him of anything. It’s me. It’s just that I’m uncomfortable when he’s present.”
“Who is he?” asked Roen.
“Mr. Cabot.” Fedora removed her hands from her lap and folded her arms in front of her as if suddenly taken by a chill. The hair on her arms stood up and she rubbed them to get warm again. “He found a message someone left outside my door and made such a fuss about it to the other boarders. He said if anyone knew who had left it, it was a moral obligation to come forward, and if the person who did it was actually sitting at the table, then it was a certainty that hell was waiting. He meant well, I suppose, but you don’t know how I wished that a hole would have opened up and hell had taken me right there.”
“Oh, I think I do know,” said Lily. “Sometimes the devil seems preferable to well-meaning angels.”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “Yes, exactly.”
Roen gave Fedora some time to collect herself. She was dry-eyed but blinking rapidly. When he thought she was ready to hear more, he said, “Hitch told me that you have a sense of being watched.” Roen saw her frown, obviously unhappy that Hitch had shared so much. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
She nodded.
“Is there anyone in particular who watches you?”
Fedora shrugged.
“That’s no answer.”
“Anytime I’m out, there are always people looking on from the shop windows. Maybe they’d be there under any circumstances. I don’t know. Mostly I try not to look, but sometimes I see them out of the corner of my eye as I pass, stepping up to the window as if they want to make sure I move on.”
“So you haven’t identified a single person observing you.”
She hesitated again but spoke up before Roen prompted her. “Mr. Cabot.”
“Your well-meaning angel,” said Roen.
“Yes.”
“He doesn’t take his meals at Mrs. Brady’s, does he? I seem to recall Ellie commenting that he’s a regular at the hotel. You must have served him there.”
“Almost exclusively. He asked for me.”
“That’s different than some diners.”
“Yes. There are people who don’t want me near their table, let alone their food.”
“Were you flattered?”
“No. Not at all. I told you, he makes me ill at ease.”
