"Mom?" Meghan had heard the noise and run out of the back room where the single television lived. Then she spotted the trio, who were still trying to stare Timmie down, and frowned herself. "Mr. Mattie went home already," she said. "Didn't he get there?"

"He did, honey," Mattie said without looking at her. "Thank you. I just need to talk to your mama right now, okay?"

Meghan looked at Mattie. She leaned around the banister to where she could see Timmie and checked her out. Timmie smiled.

"It's okay, baby. It's just work stuff."

So she was lying to everybody now. How pleasant. The minute Meghan walked back in to her after-school treat and TV, Timmie climbed to her feet and walked back into her room. Inevitably, the three women followed.

"You look terrible," Cindy blurted out. "What can we do?"

Timmie sat back up on her bed. "You can tell Walter not to worry about me. Everything's fine." Even she heard the lie in that one.

Mattie came to stand over her like a mother about to feel her forehead for a fever. "We're not going," she said softly. "So spill it."

She couldn't. Not now. Not here. Certainly not with an audience, especially after what Murphy had told her.

"It's nothing," she said. "I promise." And then she lied some more. "I got served again by Jason this morning, and I'm just feeling sorry for myself."

"Served?" Ellen asked. "What does the lawyer say?"

Timmie tried hard to sound offhanded. "That this one may stick. He's going after Dad's house, since it was in my name all along. After all, we were divorced in a community property state."

The three of them started choking as if somebody'd let off a canister of tear gas.

"You joking!" Mattie accused.

Not wanting to compound her time in purgatory now that she was certainly destined for hell, Timmie said nothing.

Cindy immediately turned a bright shade of red. "Well, that asshole! It just figures. I swear, you give 'em an inch and they want to take your house! What can we do?"

"Nothing. I told you. I just need to sulk a little."

Cindy shook her head. "I'll stay. It's the least I can do."

"No." Timmie was sure she said it too quickly. Only Ellen looked her way.

"How about if Meghan comes to my house," Ellen offered. "My kids would be tickled. Besides, you don't want her here when you're this upset with her daddy. She wouldn't understand."

"I'll stay with her," Cindy offered. "I'm even beginning to like that miniature handbag she feeds."

"We'll work it out together," Mattie decided, eyes unwaveringly on Timmie. "Why don't you two go down and see if she'd like McDonald's?"

"We should stay," Cindy protested.

Timmie almost managed a smile. "Thanks anyway. Really. I just want time off."

The two of them eventually went, which left Mattie, who was neither as polite as Walter nor as passive as Ellen. "You gonna tell me the truth?"

Timmie could barely stand to look at her. "Not today."

Mattie just stood there, a seething energy behind sharp brown eyes. "You know, this may be a real unpleasant shock to you, girlfriend, but we do give a shit about you."

After everything, that was the thing that brought Timmie closest to tears. Only one other person in her life had offered unconditional support, and she'd just been contemplating killing him.

"Thank you, Mattie," she said anyway. "I know. And it'll be okay, I promise."

Another lie. This one easier to pass, because it was the one she most wanted to believe.

At least it soothed Mattie a little. With only a few more protests, she guided the flock to the door and left Meghan a moment with her mom.

Timmie sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Megs into her arms, reptile cage and all. "I'm sorry this has been so crazy for you, baby Do you know I love you?"

"Yes." Not as certain-sounding as Timmie would have wanted.

So Timmie hugged tighter. "I'm not going anywhere, Megs. Neither are you. But there's just a lot going on that you shouldn't have to worry about, so Mattie and Ellen are helping me make it easier on you. And the sooner I get this all resolved, the sooner we can really settle down and be country mouses."

Meghan looked up at Timmie, suddenly very hesitant. "You mean it?"

Timmie gave a brief thought to Traumawoman and then waved good-bye. "Yes, Meghan. I mean it. We're staying right here where you can see shooting stars and feed apples to Patty's horse. And when things settle down, maybe you and I can really be country mouses. Go camping or fishing or something. All by ourselves."

Meghan wrinkled her nose. "I hate fish. Besides, we can't go anyplace. There's Grandda."

Timmie was very proud of the fact that she didn't give herself away. "I know all about Grandda, honey. Don't forget, I met him a long time before you did."

"Okay, Mom. I'll see you tomorrow."

Timmie held her close. "Tomorrow, baby. Then everything will be fine."

That was, if she could get through tonight.

Chapter 21

"You haven't been to see your father today."

The voice was just as soft. Just as sinuous, a sibilant snake of temptation. Just the sound of it made Timmie's palms sweat.

"How do you know?" she asked, not daring to look over to where Murphy was listening in on the kitchen line.

"He didn't have a good day, I'm afraid. Not that he's sick, of course. He has the heart of a fifteen-year-old. But he's frightened, isn't he? He's frightened all the time now."

Timmie sucked in a breath. Closed her eyes and stopped the monologue cold. "No."

She was met by silence.

"Thank you for the offer," she said. "I know you only had his best wishes at heart. But I can't accept it."

She should get him to indict himself, she knew. She couldn't think that well. She couldn't even stay on the phone that long.

"Are you sure, Timmie? This is really what you want?"

No. She wasn't sure. If she'd been sure she would have spent the day ripping through this miserable excuse for a town finding out who was trying to coerce her into compliance instead of just sitting in the lotus position like a comatose yoga teacher.

"And just so you know," she said, eyes still closed so she did this all on her own. "You're not going to kill any more people in that unit, and you're definitely not killing my father. I won't let you."

"How could you say that about me? I'm just trying to help."

"Oh, I know. But I don't think anybody wants your help anymore. Good-bye."

And that, after what she'd dreaded all day, was that. No confrontations, no protestations, no huge emotional rock rolling down on her head. She felt a little calmer, kind of like the moment she'd finally filed for divorce. The decision wasn't easy, but the uncertainty was over. At least until the next time somebody made the same offer when her father was even more frightened and old.

"So that's what that was all about," Murphy said quietly from the kitchen doorway.

Timmie didn't bother to look at him. "I appreciate your coming over to witness this, just in case there was a question."

"I also got the caller number," he said. "You want to know what it is?"