“You are Mrs. Shepard, aren’t you?” Cabot asked.
Lily looked past Cabot’s shoulder to Solomon. The station agent was watching them curiously. “Excuse me,” said Lily, “but you are...”
“Oh, of course. Where are my manners? Martin Cabot. I imagine your husband’s spoken of me.”
Frowning slightly, Lily feigned thinking it over. “Not that I recall, Mr. Cabot, and I believe I would remember.”
“Hmm.”
Lily couldn’t help but notice that his genial smile did not touch his eyes. “Was there some reason you stopped me?”
“Only to make your acquaintance. I spent time with your husband this morning. Twice actually. Once at Mrs. Brady’s rooming house and again at Dr. Madison’s surgery.”
“Mm.” She nodded in Solomon’s direction. “Thank you again, Mr. Winslow. Good day.” Opening the door for the second time, she managed to step outside with both feet before she was abruptly pulled back. Mr. Cabot blocked her exit.
“Hey!” Solomon Winslow called out, starting to come around the counter bent on aiding Lily.
“Stay where you are,” said Cabot. He took a threatening step forward but did not draw his weapon. He pushed Lily toward the chair. “Sit there. Don’t move.”
Lily stumbled over her own feet but stayed upright. She dropped into the chair, tugged at her scarf, and breathed in deeply. “I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do. Don’t play me for a fool, Mrs. Shepard.”
“Well,” said Solomon, “I sure as hell don’t understand.” He looked at Lily for an explanation.
“Back behind the counter,” said Cabot.
Solomon hesitated but not long. When he turned to retrace his steps, Cabot clubbed him with the butt of his gun. Solomon was momentarily draped over the counter until Cabot pushed him over it and let him drop to the floor. The station agent moaned, got clubbed again, and then lay silent, still, and out of sight.
Cabot turned. Lily hadn’t taken the opportunity presented by his distraction to try to leave. She sat pale and motionless in the chair. It was as if he had clubbed her. He slipped his gun back into the holster under his jacket. “You know why I can’t let you leave, Mrs. Shepard.”
Lily did not reply.
“I am paying you the high compliment of being a perspicacious woman. Please do not offend me by pretending otherwise. I should like to hear the reason for your visit here. You have no bags, so I can safely assume you have no travel plans.”
Lily kept her gaze fixed on the large slate behind the counterwith the train schedule recorded in neat block letters. The letters turned fuzzy the longer she stared. She remained mute.
“Was it your husband’s idea to send you here?” asked Cabot. “Why? What are his suspicions?”
Lily did not respond to his question. “May I look after Mr. Winslow? You have no idea how badly you may have hurt him.”
Cabot looked over the counter. “He’s breathing. Your concern is unwarranted.” He took a step toward her, and although it was not done in a threatening manner, it still struck him as curious that she did not flinch. “Are you fearless, Mrs. Shepard? Is that it? A fearless woman. Such a rarity. I don’t believe I have ever made the acquaintance of one such as you.” He consulted his pocket watch. “Twenty minutes.”
Lily removed her mittens again and stuffed them in her pockets.
“You dropped something.” Cabot pointed to the floor beside her chair, where a neatly folded piece of pale yellow paper lay. Lily started to bend sideways with the intention of picking it up with her fingertips, but Mr. Cabot stooped and swept it up. He held it out to her without opening it. Lily took it without comment and carefully slid it back in a pocket.
“Telegram?” asked Cabot. When she said nothing, he merely shrugged. “Do you imagine I intend to hurt you, Mrs. Shepard? Let me set your mind at ease. I do not. Your continued silence is an annoyance, nothing more.”
“You hurt Mr. Winslow.”
“He had violent intentions. I know. I’ve seen his kind before. Thinks he’s half his age and twice as strong as he was then. It doesn’t end well.”
“Why did you murder Miss Headley?” asked Lily.
Cabot blinked. “Just like that? You have nothing to say and then you ask me that? I’m not admitting anything, you understand, but answer me this: Why do you care?”
“She was a human being.”
