“There’s been no droning at all. I find it fascinating.”

“So what are your parents like?” She reached for my hand. Her fingers were covered with rings, and her slim wrists were weighed down by bangles. “Do you live with your mom or dad?”

“Both actually.”

“Wow, you don’t hear that very often.”

“I know. That’s kind of sad. I live with my parents and my two little sisters. My parents had me when they were teenagers, so they’re pretty young. My dad is absolutely obsessed with your dad.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear and displayed a long row of tiny gold hoops running down one ear. “Let me guess, mid-thirties, played in a band, still wears long hair.”

“Yes. Holy crap, do you know him?”

“No. That is just the usual profile of Dad’s man groupies.”

I pressed my hand to my chest. “Thank God. I just had a nightmarish vision of my dad standing outside of your house with his Black Thunder t-shirt holding a big piece of cardboard painted with the words ‘I love you, man’.”

She laughed. “Hey, you’d be amazed what people do to get into see my dad. One lady even parachuted onto the grounds. She was completely naked, but her body was painted with the Black Thunder black wing logo.”

“What did your dad do?”

“That’s the sad thing about it. She’d gone to all that trouble but hadn’t bothered to find out if my dad was even home. He was in Europe on tour. Jude felt sorry for her though. He handed her a signed picture before the cops put her in the car.”

A wet nose on the back of my hand startled me, and I looked down expecting to see a dog. A black and white pig with a gold hoop in one ear wiggled his snout at me.

“That’s Some Pig,” Finley said.

“He sure is.”

“No, I mean that’s his name, Some Pig. He was rescued from a horrid farmer who didn’t feed him enough. That’s why he is so small. His real name was Sheldon, like the T.V. character, because he’s highly intelligent and obsessive-compulsive, like me.” She leaned closer. “But worse,” she whispered as if her pig could understand.

“Can I pet him?”

“He’d be pissed if you didn’t.”

I reached down and stroked the top of his head. “I’ve never touched a real pig. I remember seeing some on a field trip to the farm, but they didn’t let us touch them. The whole time the guy was standing in the pen, telling us all kinds of information about pigs. But I wasn’t paying attention. I just kept thinking—when are we going to pet them? But we never got to touch any of the animals. It was the lamest field trip ever.” I leaned down and ran my fingers down his back. His hair was thick and rough. “How did he end up being called Some Pig?”

“One day, I made the grave mistake of letting Sheldon, the pig, not the television character, watch Charlotte’s Web with me. After that his mood changed. He stayed in his straw bed, and he wouldn’t eat, not even nachos. Those are his favorite. So a pet psychic came and had a session with him. She told us to change his name to Some Pig and it worked.”

“There’s such thing as a pet psychic?”

“Yeah, they’re in high demand in this neighborhood. Lots of neurotic pets.” She headed out of the room. “Are you hungry?”

“A little bit.”

“Great. Let’s go down to the kitchen. You can meet Jude. He’s an ass most of the time, but I love him.”

“And does he also suffer from dirty sock syndrome?”

“Yeah, after all, he’s a guy. But Jude likes to sleep in the pool house, so his room stays pretty stink free.”

Some Pig and I followed Finley down the long flight of richly carpeted stairs. She touched two different sculptures on the way down but once again tapped the banister three times at the bottom. She must have sensed me noticing her little ritual. She looked back at me over her shoulder. “Some people pray to keep bad stuff from happening. I tap the banister. I personally think my method is less involved.” A steady drumbeat rolled down the hallway to the left of the landing. “Sounds like Jude’s in the gym.”

“There’s a gym in your house?”

“Among other things.”

She had short legs and I had absurdly long ones, but I had to hurry to keep up with her frantic pace. The pig had to nearly gallop on his stumpy legs. We reached a door that vibrated with loud music.

“Stay,” Finley told Some Pig and she reached for the knob. The sound system would have made my dad drool. It nearly blasted me off my feet.

A long, hardwood floor stretched out beneath a field of exercise equipment and weight machines. The room had a lower ceiling than the other rooms and half of the walls were covered in mirrors. It seemed deserted as I followed Finley around two large weight machines to the farthest corner. Then through the pounding music, I heard the rhythmic sound of grunting interspersed with fists smacking a punching bag. The last mirror held the reflection of a shirtless guy with broad shoulders and a muscular back. Sweat dripped down a large, intricate tattoo of Black Thunder’s famous black wing logo. The punching bag bounced with each hit.

Finley walked over to a panel of buttons on the wall and turned down the volume just low enough to stop the reverberation in the room.

Wrapped hands steadied the punching bag, and her brother peered around it. “Shit, Doolittle, why’d you turn that down? You threw off my rhythm.” Then he saw me and stepped out from behind the bag. Green eyes assessed me coldly as he dragged the gray beanie from his head. His short black hair stood up all over his head. Like the smooth muscles of his chest and stomach, his hair was drenched with sweat. He reached up and wiped his forehead with the back of his wrist.

“This is the girl Dad hired to keep me company this summer. She’s from the valley.”

His mouth tilted up in a sardonic grin. “I guess it’s true. You can buy friends.”

“Oh, shut up, Jude.” Finley motioned down to his foot and for the first time I noticed the large, official looking cuff around his ankle. “What did the lawyer say? When does it come off?”

He stared down at it for a moment as if he’d forgotten it was there and then lifted his piercing green gaze. He didn’t seem pleased that she’d brought it up in mixed company. “In a week. When does yours come off?”

“You’re such an ass,” Finley said, and though I hadn’t known her long I wasn’t imagining the hurt in her tone.

There was no apology in his expression as he turned his attention to me. He stared at me for a long, uncomfortable moment. “So does Valley have a name?”

“I’m Eden,” I told him grudgingly.

“Eden?” his mocking grin returned. “I hear they have some pretty wild apples down there.”

“Only a true snake would know,” Finley interjected.

“So how long is your hired companion staying?”

“She’s staying the summer. So get used to it.” Finley took hold of my hand, and I realized that even in the short amount of time, I’d already grown fond of her. She pulled me around to leave.

“I think Dad has lost his fucking mind,” Jude called to us as we walked away. “And take the dogs with you. I’m going to take a shower.”

Finley’s whistle startled me but not as much as the sudden appearance of two lion-sized dogs trailing along with us. I scooted closer to Finley.

“They’re harmless,” Finley said. “Unless you’re a wolf. They’re Irish wolfhounds.”

The dogs trotted past us like small horses and stopped to sniff Some Pig who sat obediently in the hallway waiting for us. I gasped in terror for the poor pig, but he didn’t seem to take notice of the massive prey animals. Then they lifted their large snouts and trotted ahead of us down the hall.

“What are their names?” I asked, hoping to get my mind off of the fact that her brother hated me already.

“Butch and Sundance,” Finley replied. “At first, I’d named them Leo and Julius but then one day I made the mistake of—”

“Let me guess. You let them watch the movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and they got mopey, so you had to call the psychic.”