“Wow!” said Betsy, thinking how thrilling it would be to have a Stanley Steamer chuff up in front of the shop to ask for a bucket of water. How even more marvelous to be riding in a Stanley. What a thrill!

But Jill didn’t smile, and Lars, realizing at last how deep in the doghouse he was, knelt again. “I know I should have talked to you before I decided to buy it,” he said. “And if you say no, I’ll call back and tell him I’ve changed my mind.”

Betsy closed her eyes and crossed her fingers.

She heard Martha say, “I’ve always wanted to ride in an antique car.”

Then Alice said, “We could make costumes. Waists and long skirts, and great big hats with veils.”

Godwin said, “We could find boaters and celluloid collars, and make spats and close-fitting trousers! Oh you kid!”

Betsy hadn’t thought about costumes. Oh, Jill just couldn’t say no!

Phil added, “I could renew my boiler license easy, if it would make you feel better about this.”

“Please?” said Betsy.

Jill let out a long breath. “Oh, what the heck. I’m not living dangerously enough already, arresting drunk drivers and the occasional murderer Betsy scares up. So sure, Lars honey, go tell the doctor with the bad heart you’ll take his crumpled car off his hands.”

2

A few weeks later, Betsy was preparing to close Crewel World for the night. It was a little after five. The last customer had just left. She ran the cash register, made sure there were no sales slips loose on the desk, took forty dollars out of the register to keep as opening-up money for tomorrow, signed the deposit slip Godwin had made out and sent him off with it and the day’s profits.

Then she hurried upstairs to give Sophie her evening meal, put the money into a locked drawer, and change into wool slacks and a heavy sweater. She grabbed her raincoat and a knit hat, dashed back down the stairs and out the back way to her car.