Unforgettable. Molly Rice

for him on hot days and she used to add little treats to the lunches she’d been told to provide for the gardening crew.

      Vera announced his arrival to Mrs. Hunter from the kitchen intercom and, after a deliberate pause, Derek heard Mrs. Hunter tell Vera to send him into the library.

      “You know the way, Derek,” Vera reminded him. “And on your way out you’ll stop and have a slice of fresh cinnamon cake, yes?”

      “If I can take it with me, Vera. I’m on my way to lunch from here.”

      The library was a large square room, with a fireplace on the south wall and tall windows overlooking the gardens on the north. Bookshelves rose to the ceiling and wooden ladders on a ceiling track made the upper shelves accessible.

      Selma Hunter was wrapped in an afghan, sitting in a wing chair in front of a blazing fire. To Derek, who hadn’t seen her up close in quite some time, she seemed more frail than he remembered, but that might have been a trick of the flames reflecting on her face or the gloom from outside that penetrated the room from the windows on the north wall.

      “You’re looking well, Mrs. Hunter,” Derek said politely as he approached her.

      “As are you, Sheriff. Sit down, please.”

      Derek found the heat from the fire oppressive, but he sat in the chair across from the old woman, holding his Stetson on his lap.

      “This is a surprise visit, Sheriff. Has one of my employees done something wrong?”

      It was like her to assume that he was there regarding one of her help rather than herself and that she keep referring to him by his title rather than his name though she’d known him most of his life and had used to call him Derek before he became sheriff. He knew it was her way of keeping him in his place. Public servants were no more of the elite than the servants who worked on the estate.

      “I came to ask a few questions, Mrs. Hunter. First of all, I’m wondering if you’re familiar with any family from around here by the name of Millman.”

      Mrs. Hunter’s face was smooth as glass. “No.”

      Derek was taken aback. He was beginning to recognize a pattern in that facial expression, the quick way people said no without even having to give it some thought.

      “Would have been twenty-five years ago, they lived here, if indeed they did,” Derek prompted. “Maybe you’d like time to think back.”

      “No need, Sheriff. I know what I know. Time won’t alter facts. Is that all you wanted?”

      “Would you mind telling me why you paid my way through college, Mrs. Hunter?” He could see he’d caught her off guard with this question.

      “Why...why...however did you...” She banged her small, freckled fist on the arm of her chair. “I meant the gift to remain anonymous. I will certainly take your mother to task for telling you.”

      “But why should you have done it in the first place?”

      “Young man, what I do with my money is my own business. You should show a little more gratitude and quit snooping in things that are none of your