One

      Mikki peered through the crack in the swinging doors. Anxiety caused her already weary body to tense. She wiped her hands against the white apron knotted at her waist and swallowed a nervous sigh. “Are you sure he asked for me?”

      Annie tucked a lock of gray hair into her beehive and smiled a toothy grin. “Michelle Finnley from McAfee, Kansas. That’s you, child. This is the second time he’s been here looking for you.”

      Mikki’s stomach flip-flopped. Michelle Finnley from McAfee, Kansas. She glanced again at the man in the last booth. She didn’t know much about fashion, but his pin-striped suit hadn’t come off the rack at Dandy Don’s Suit-O-Rama. He reeked of money the way the diner reeked of hot grease.

      What did he want? And how had he traced her from McAfee, population eight hundred including the cows, to New York City? Any ties she’d had to the small town had been buried seven years ago along with the woman she had known as her mother. And Mikki wanted them to remain buried.

      “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, honey.” Annie touched Mikki’s shoulder. “Do you want me to get rid of him?”

      Mikki shook her head She might as well find out what he wanted before she panicked. For all she knew, the man worked for the IRS and they planned to return some of the money they had extorted from her each April fifteenth. She smoothed her pink uniform over her hips and stepped through the door.

      The lunch crowd had thinned to a few couples lingering over coffee. A siren screamed as a police cruiser sped past, raising her pulse and her anxiety level. She stopped in front of the booth and clicked her tongue to get the man’s attention.

      “I understand you’ve been asking questions about me.” She glanced down at him, trying her best to give the impression of indifference.

      “Michelle Finnley?” His resonant voice held the trace of