She stopped at the bottom of his walkway and said something to the men behind her.
Both remained by the vehicles.
She continued alone.
His daughter appeared beside him.
“It is snow lady.”
“Yes.”
“Are the men spies?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
He stared through the window.
“I don’t.”
His daughter nodded as if this confirmed her suspicion.
The doorbell rang.
He looked down at himself.
Old gray T-shirt.
Sweatpants.
Bare feet.
Peanut butter on one thumb.
Wonderful.
“Stay here.”
“I want to see.”
“From here.”
“But—”
“Please.”
She climbed onto a chair anyway so she could see through the window.
He opened the front door.
Cold air swept across his feet.
The woman looked up at him.
“Good morning.”
He folded his arms.
“You travel light.”
Her gaze moved toward the SUVs.
“I asked them not to do this.”
“And they ignored you?”
“Yes.”
“That seems to be a theme around you.”
Something close to amusement appeared in her eyes.
Then she looked at his bare feet.
“You’re going to freeze.”
“I was warm until a motorcade appeared outside my house.”
From the kitchen, his daughter shouted:
“Ask if they are spies!”
The woman blinked.
The father closed his eyes.
“She’s four.”
The woman looked toward the men.
“Are you spies?”
One of them actually answered.
“No.”
The little girl shouted:
“That’s what spies say!”
The woman laughed.
A genuine laugh.
The father looked behind him.
“One sock. Breakfast. Now.”
The little girl vanished.
Mostly.
He could still see the top of her head behind the wall.
The woman glanced down at the cream fleece blanket folded across her lap.
“I brought this back.”
“You didn’t need three SUVs for that.”
“No.”
Her expression changed.
“I need to talk to you.”
The father looked toward the men.
“Who are they?”
“The man nearest the first vehicle is independent corporate counsel.”
Every muscle in his shoulders tightened.
She noticed.
“The other is an acting safety director.”
“You brought a lawyer to my house.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because by midnight I learned that what happened to me last night may be connected to what happened to you seven years ago.”
He stared.
The woman continued.
“I also learned your old termination file contains documents somebody tried very hard to bury.”
Silence.
Snow slid from the porch roof.
The father looked back toward his daughter.
The woman said quietly:
“I am not here to threaten you.”
He gave a short laugh.
“You brought counsel.”
“My counsel told me the first thing I should do was tell you to get your own.”
That surprised him.
The attorney several yards away lifted one hand in acknowledgment.
The father looked at the woman again.
“What exactly do you want?”
“Ten minutes.”
“You came with three cars for ten minutes?”
“I came with one.”