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won’t be pushy. If Adam won’t allow me into the house, then I’ll leave.”
    “Dad usually leaves for work at seven in the morning,” Melanie said. “Mom doesn’t leave until eight. If you got there just after Dad left and were gone before he comes back home at lunchtime, it should be okay.”
    I looked at Reggie. “What do you think?”
    Reggie blew out a breath. “I don’t like it, but if you’re game—and if Mary and Melanie think it will help get them all to safety—then we’ll do it.” She bit her lip. “Let’s just not tell Ted until after the fact.”
    * * *
    After class, Reggie and I went to MacKenzies’ Mochas to work out all the details of our plan. Sadie greeted us at the door and escorted us to a table in the corner.
    “How did the class go?” she asked.
    “It went fine,” Reggie said. “Thanks for asking. How about a decaf latte, please, with extra whipped cream?”
    “Sure. Marcy?” Sadie asked.
    “I’ll have the same.”
    With a nod, Sadie hurried off to get our drinks. I knew she had wanted to hear about the meeting in more satisfying detail, but Reggie and I needed to hammer out our plan and get home—her to Manu, and me to Angus. Besides, Sadie could rest assured that I’d tell her everything tomorrow.
    “The library does have a bookmobile,” Reggie said. “But I’m driving.”
    Sadie returned with our lattes, gave me another odd look, and then left.
    “But what if Adam Cantor sees you driving the van?” I asked. “Won’t he find it suspicious that the library director is doing her own grunt work?”
    “Of course not,” she said. “What could be more natural than a librarian driving a bookmobile? Besides, there’s no way I’m letting you go to the Cantor place by yourself. Adam has an assault record a mile long. He’s been sentenced to anger management sessions twice, and he served a year in county lockup for assault with a deadly weapon when Melanie was still in elementary school. But none of that seems to help.”
    “I’m so sorry for Mary and Melanie,” I said. “They seem sweet.”
    “They are,” Reggie said. “I’ve never met Chester, but he doesn’t appear to be anything like his son.”
    “Isn’t that unusual?” I asked. “I thought abuse typically ran in families.”
    “It does. From what I’ve heard, Adam suffered his abuse at the hands of his stepfather. Chester and Adam’s mother divorced when Adam was still a baby. I don’t think Chester made the most of his time with his son until Adam was in his early teens.” She shook her head. “By then, the damage had already been done.”
    As I sipped my latte, I thought about what Reggie had said about Adam. His jail sentence and anger management classes had apparently not mellowed him out much. “Adam must be pretty mean.”
    “He is,” Reggie said. “But he can be charming too. Otherwise, Mary never would have fallen for him.”
    I nodded. Charming or not, if this man found out we were duping him, he was going to be furious.
    Reggie looked at her watch. “I’ve got to run. I’ll pick you up in the morning between seven and seven fifteen.”
    “All right. See you then.”
    Reggie’s chair hadn’t got cold before Sadie slid into it. “Okay. Spill.”
    “Spill what?” I asked, merely prolonging the inevitable.
    “Tell me what you and Reggie are up to,” she said. “I thought I heard the name Adam Cantor mentioned.”
    “She and I need to talk with Adam’s father, so we’re going to the house under the guise of a bookmobile visit,” I said. “It’s no big deal.”
    “It
is
a big deal,” she insisted. “Adam Cantor is bad news.” She turned and motioned for Blake.
    “What’s up?” Blake asked, arriving at our table while drying his hands on his black apron.
    “Marcy is going to Adam Cantor’s house in the morning,” Sadie said.
    Blake’s eyes widened. “What? No way.” He pulled up a chair and sat down.
    I blew out a breath. “It’s not that big a deal,