Neva settled behind her desk and gestured for Skye to take a seat. “Now what?”

“I’m not sure. I think he threatened Cletus so that means another call to DCFS.” Skye dug out a tissue from her briefcase and dabbed at her face. She wasn’t sure if she was sweating because of the heat or the adrenaline. “The tires on my car were slashed last night. I wonder if Mr. Doozier had anything to do with it.”

“Well, there is no question he threatened us. I’m calling the police.” Neva reached for the phone.

Grandma’s Buick was waiting for Skye in the parking lot when she finished talking to Officer Quirk about Hap Doozier. The broken classroom window was a misdemeanor, Quirk had explained, but there was little the police could do about Hap’s threats.

This was not reassuring to Skye as she got into the unlocked car. The keys fell from behind the visor as she pulled it down. Jed’s hiding places were very predictable.

Skye didn’t bother with the radio or air-conditioning, since the drive home would take less than five minutes. When she arrived, Simon was pacing in front of her door. From the look on his face, Skye guessed he had not received any of her messages.

She reluctantly got out of the car. They’d been fighting a lot lately. Her head was pounding and she was soaked in sweat. “Gee, looks like you didn’t get my messages. Sorry. I hope you didn’t have to wait too long.”

Simon, a thunderous expression on his face, stood between her and the house. “That’s it? Everything is supposed to be all right just because you say you’re sorry? Where have you been all afternoon?”

“To hell. Care to join me next time?” Skye brushed past him, unlocked the door, and slipped through, letting it swing shut in his face.

He caught it before it closed and followed her inside.

She stopped on the threshold of her bedroom, turned, and crossed her arms. “Do you mind? I’m going to take a shower.”

Frowning, Simon took a step back and Skye shut the door.

She stood under the showerhead, letting the hot water knead her tense muscles. When her fingers started to wrinkle, she reluctantly turned off the spray and toweled dry. She sat at the bathroom’s built-in dressing table and worked a wide-toothed comb through her tangled curls. I shouldn’t have been so short with Simon. She smoothed lotion over her face and throat. He was just concerned. It was my fault for not getting in touch with him earlier.

After putting on a pair of denim shorts and a plain white T-shirt, Skye hesitantly opened the bedroom door. Simon was gone. She felt a heaviness in her chest. Why had she treated him so badly? Why weren’t they getting along anymore?

Angry at herself, and upset from the last twenty-four hours, Skye put a Pam Tillis CD on the player and lay on the sofa. She fell asleep to the beginning strains of “Mi Vida Loca.”

The doorbell’s persistent ringing woke Skye. She wasn’t sure of the time but it was dark outside.

A shiver ran up her spine. What if it was Hap Doozier or Gus Yoder’s father?

She grabbed her baseball bat and went to the door. Looking through the peephole, all she could see was flowers.

“Who is it?” She raised her voice to be heard through the wood.

“It’s me. Simon.”

Skye unlocked the door and held it open. Simon handed her a vase filled with roses. Their scent was intoxicating and she buried her face in the velvety petals.

While she was appreciating the flowers, Simon had returned to his car. Now he was back, carrying brown bags and a bottle of wine.

He set the packages on the kitchen table, took the vase from Skye’s arms, and placed it on the counter. “I’m sorry I was so abrupt today.” He held her hands and looked into her eyes. “Your relatives have been giving me a hard time about your grandmother’s autopsy. And then after your tires were slashed, when you weren’t here I was worried.”

Skye snuggled into his arms and laid her head on his chest. “It was my fault. Lately I’ve been mean to everyone. I’m sorry. I did try to reach you.”

He stopped her with a finger on her lips. “I know. I finally checked my messages. I had quit listening to them this morning after the fourth time your Uncle Dante beeped me.”

She nodded sympathetically. “When I think about dying, one of the things that really scares me is that I’ll be surrounded by my family in heaven. I’ll be trapped in eternity with people I don’t even want to spend Thanksgiving with.”

Simon smiled and hugged her. “You have a really twisted sense of humor.”

Skye ignored his comment and went on with her train of thought. “My day was horrible, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Can you believe I had to go into school the day after my grandmother died?” She traced his jaw with her finger.

Simon turned his face and captured her finger with his lips.

Skye’s pulse quickened. If I don’t stop now, I may not be able to later, and I’m not ready for this. “Simon, it’s been wonderful dating you these past nine months, and I’m very attracted to you, but I’m just not ready for an intimate relationship.” She paused and looked into his hurt-filled eyes. “It makes things too complicated.”

Simon held her loosely and stroked her hair. “I’m not going to push you. I know after what your ex-fiancé did, you don’t trust men.”

“I really, really want to keep dating you, but I also want to be fair.” Skye could feel a tear etch its way down her cheek.

“Okay, I really, really want to keep dating you, too. But maybe it would be better not to make it an exclusive thing.” Simon wiped her tear away with his finger.

Who was he planning to ask out? Skye pasted a smile in place. “I’m sure that would be for the best. We just won’t take each other’s time for granted anymore.”

“Good.”

With one last hug, she forced herself to slip out of his arms. Her smile was shaky as she pointed to the table. “What’s all this?”

“Chinese takeout. I know how much you like it.”

“But there aren’t any Chinese restaurants in Scumble River.”

“I drove to Kankakee and got it from your favorite place.” Simon smiled.

“Imperial Dragon?” When he nodded, she went over to the bags and sniffed. “Let me guess what you got. Empress chicken, hot and sour soup, crab rangoon, and shrimp fried rice?”

“And a bottle of plum wine.”

“I’ll get the plates and glasses. Then you can tell me what my awful relatives have been doing to you today, and I’ll tell you what the awful citizens of Scumble River have been doing to me.”

Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat, What Have You Seen?

Bingo! She had forgotten all about Bingo. Skye slammed down her cup of Earl Grey tea. Her grandmother’s cat had been locked up alone with no fresh food or water since Monday night, and here it was already Wednesday morning.

She grabbed the phone and dialed her mother, who answered on the first ring. “Mom, did anyone take Bingo home with them?”

“Good morning to you too. And, no, I don’t think anyone took the cat. Why?” May was not an animal lover, and had made it clear throughout Skye’s life that four-legged creatures belonged in the barn or pasture, not in the house.

Gritting her teeth, Skye asked, “Did anyone go over yesterday to feed him and clean his litter box?” She had a difficult time accepting her mother’s attitude toward pets.

“I doubt it. The police have the house sealed, remember?”

“Well, we can’t leave him in there to die of thirst or starvation. I’ll call Wally and see if I can pick up Bingo this morning.” Skye put her mug in the sink and rinsed it out.

“You’re not going to keep that animal, are you? He’ll shed on everything.”

“Technically, he’s property of the estate. Do you know what Grandma’s will says?” Taking the dishcloth, Skye wiped up the table.