She shook her head.

"Don't be crazy, Ms. Johnson," he said. So he knew her. Acustomer from the cafe. He pulled his head back in and leaned overand opened the door on the other side.

She walked over, just to be polite, to close the door for him asshe turned him down. "You're very nice," she began, "but --"

"No buts," he said. "Mrs. Wilcox'll kill me if you get a cold and Icould have given you a ride."

Now she knew him. The man who did Minnie's accounting. Lately he came in for lunch every day, even though he only went overthe cafe books once a week. Rainie wasn't a fool. He was a nice man,quiet and he never even joked with her, but he was coming in for her,and she didn't want to encourage him.

"If you're worried about your personal safety, I got my two olderkids as chaperones."

The kids leaned forward from the back seat to get a look at her. A boy, maybe twelve years old. A girl, looking about the same age,which meant she was probably younger. "Get in, lady, you're letting allthe heat out of the car," said the girl.

She got in. "This is nice of you, but you didn't need to," she said.

"I can tell you're not from around here," said the boy in the backseat. "Radio says this is a bad storm coming and you don't walkaround in a blizzard after dark. Sometimes they don't find your bodytill spring."

"Dougie," said the man.

That was the man's name, too, she remembered. Douglas. Andhis last name ... Spaulding. Like the ball manufacturer.

"This is nice of you, Mr. Spaulding," she said.

"We're just coming back down from the Tri-cities Mall," he said. "They can't wear last year's leather shoes cause they're too small, andtheir mother would have a fit if I suggested they keep wearing theirsneakers right on through the winter, so we just had the privilege ofdropping fifty bucks at the shoe store."

"Who are you?" asked the girl.