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held the door open for us and invited us in. “Pop!” he called, over his shoulder. “You’d better get out here. There are some mighty pretty ladies here to see you!” He winked at us. “He’s just finishing up his breakfast. He’ll be right with you. In the meantime, make yourselves at home here in the living room.”
    From the corner of my eye, I noticed Mary just inside the door nervously fingering the hem of her gray cardigan.
    Adam turned toward her. “Mary, don’t just stand there. Come and introduce yourself.”
    “We’ve met,” Reggie said. “Remember, Mrs. Cantor, when you signed your father-in-law up for the bookmobile delivery?”
    “Oh, of course. It’s good to see you.” Mary said.
    I held out my hand. “Hi, Mrs. Cantor. I’m Marcy Singer. I don’t work for the library, but I’m helping Reggie out this morning.”
    Mary shook my hand.
    “Why didn’t you tell me we had company coming this morning, Mary? I’d have called in and said I’d be late for work.” Adam was smiling, but his eyes and his voice were like flint. He looked at his watch before shooting an accusatory glare at Mary.
    Mary glanced up at her husband and then down at the floor. “I’m sorry, Adam. I must’ve forgotten about it.”
    “Yes, you must have. If I don’t go on, I’ll be late.” He turned back to Reggie and me. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Singer. Mrs. Singh, I appreciate your kindness to my father.”
    “Anytime,” Reggie said.
    I wheeled the cart farther into the living room. “Mrs. Cantor, would you care to take a look at the books we brought for your father-in-law to choose from?”
    Mary stood staring at the door, watching Adam stride down the sidewalk. She raised her hand and waved slightly, but I doubt he saw her. When at last his vehicle roared away, she visibly relaxed.
    “I’m sorry,” Reggie said. “We thought he’d be gone before now. Are you in trouble?”
    Mary nodded. “A little. It’s probably not that bad, though . . . nothing I can’t handle. Besides, hopefully, I won’t be here to face his wrath when he gets home.” A metallic scraping sound from the kitchen nabbed her attention, and she hurried into the other room. “Coming, Pop. Let me help you.”
    “I don’t need any help,” Chester Cantor said, struggling to get his walker through the narrow door leading from the kitchen to the living room. He smiled when he saw Reggie and me. “Well, hello there. To what do I owe this honor?”
    I loved him on sight. He was short—almost as short as me—and rather square. He kind of reminded me of the elderly man in the animated movie
Up
.
    Reggie did a quick check over her shoulder to make sure Adam Cantor hadn’t doubled back on us. “We’re here to bring you some books. We’d also like to talk with you about letting us get you, Mary, and Melanie to safety.”
    He raised a hand and flicked his wrist as if he were shooing away a fly. “I’ve got a plan. Soon I’m going to be able to get us all somewhere safe . . . and then we’ll make Adam get some help so he won’t lose his entire family like I did once.”
    “I hear you have a tapestry you’d like for me to look at,” I said.
    His face brightened. “You’re the gal from the embroidery shop?”
    “That’s me.”
    “Seen many tapestries, have you?” His eyes were sparkling with excitement.
    “I’ve seen quite a few,” I said. “You might even say I’m an expert on old tapestries.”
    He grinned. “Come with me, young lady.” He looked around at Mary and Reggie. “You two stay here.”
    “Melanie and I have to leave soon,” Mary said, “or else she and I are going to be late for school and work.”
    “Well, you two go on and do what you need to do,” Chester said. “I’ll be fine with . . . What’s your name?”
    “Marcy,” I answered.
    “I’ll be just fine with Marcy here.” He jerked his head toward the door leading to the narrow hallway. “Let’s go.”
    I shot a look