If Margot Emory was at all surprised to see Autumn standing outside her cottage, she didn’t show any evidence of it. Maybe her strongly arched brows lifted ever so slightly, but she sounded as cool as ever as she said, “Autumn. To what do I owe this honor?”
“I need to talk to you,” Autumn replied.
I just hope you’ll let me….
The barest of pauses. Then Margot said, “Of course. Come in.”
She stood aside so Autumn could enter the house, then closed the door behind her. On this chilly night, a fire crackled in the hearth, and a big gray and white cat was asleep on the rug in front of it. A teapot and cup sat on the coffee table, while a paperback book — some kind of mystery — lay face down on the cream linen of the sofa.
Autumn couldn’t help contrasting this simple, quiet scene with the l
