“Where little kids are concerned,” I said, “the only thing I’m really sure about is that I don’t want any more. Our kids are pretty grown up now, and while the little years were wonderful, they’re the sort of thing you only want to do once, right?”

Nice blathering. Nice, totally idiotic blathering.

“I suppose,” the woman said. “Who’s your friend, who shops here?”

“Ms. Snelling,” I said, gambling that if Trixie had been in here, and if she had given her name, it might have been that one.

The woman shook her head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“She was here last Thursday. Probably getting something for her daughter. About five-four, dark hair, very pretty.” I thought of Hector’s description of what she’d been wearing that day. “Would have probably been wearing a long leather coat, these high-heeled boots.” I thought about showing her the picture of Trixie from the newspaper, but that would put a totally different spin on the nature of my questioning.

“Oh yes, I remember her. But I didn’t get her name. She always pays cash.”

“Yes, that sounds like her,” I said. “Likes to keep those credit card charges down. So she comes in regularly?”

The woman was holding up some sort of jumper thing in blue. It didn’t look big enough to hold a shih tzu. “The odd time, but not very often. But I don’t think it could be the same person. She doesn’t buy for her own daughter. She likes to buy presents for the Bennets’ little girl when she’s up this way visiting. I think she must be her aunt or something.”

“Oh, that’s right,” I said. “I meant niece. Not daughter.”

The woman gave me a look, like she thought something funny was going on, but I kept smiling and maintained eye contact, and she seemed to let it go.

“She is just the most adorable little girl. I think her aunt spoils her,” the woman said.

I felt a charge going through me. “The Bennets, they still have that place down the road a ways?”

“Well, if you call Kelton down the road a ways,” she said. “How about something like this?” She’d matched the jumper to some booties and socks and the whole outfit looked a bit fussy, to tell you the truth.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “Last time I dropped in on the Bennets, must be six years or so. Don’t think I could find their place if my life depended on it.”

“They’re still on County Road 9, can’t miss them,” she said. “Hang on, I think I have her on my mailing list. I could check for you if you’d like.”

I felt an adrenaline rush, but stayed calm. “I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”