LITMIR.BIZ

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      Nancy raised an eyebrow. She suspected she had yet to plumb the depths of Jason’s mutton-headedness. “Does he have any sort of driver’s license?”

      “Illinois Learner’s permit. He’s fifteen. He’s not supposed to drive without an adult.”

      God help the world’s drivers when this kid turned sixteen.

      A pubescent vampiress slouched across the road toward them. She was trailed by what looked like a relatively normal small boy. With Nancy’s luck, he’d be a kleptomaniac or a Peeping-Tom.

      Wainwright started to introduce her to his brood.

      “Can we skip all that? Unless you want to be personally responsible for the death of a Jack Russell terrier.”

      To his credit, Wainwright took her directions down the side roads without question and drove fast and competently. Not fast enough, of course, but then a supersonic jet wouldn’t have been fast enough. In the back seat, Jason sulked in a corner, and in front of him in the middle seat, his sister bobbed to the music in her headphones. Wainwright had introduced her as Angie. The blond kid was Eddy. He hadn’t said a word.

      Nancy pulled the sun visor down to cut out the glare from the westering sun, and caught his image in the visor mirror. He was staring at her.

      He doesn’t blink. Creepy.

      “Down there,” she said. “Drive through the wrought-iron gate into the parking lot outside the front doors.”

      TIM HAD BARELY BROUGHT the truck to a halt when Nancy jumped out, ran up the front stairs and shoved through the glass doors into the lighted reception area. He saw her speak to the woman behind a tall reception desk, then disappear through a side door.

      “Can we go find some pizza now?” Angie asked. “I’m starving.”

      “Stay here.” Tim started to climb out of the driver’s seat. With a glance at Jason, he reached down and took the keys out of the ignition.

      “How do you know I can’t hot-wire it?” Jason asked.

      “If you can, don’t.” He took the front stairs of the clinic two at a time.

      “May I help you?” asked a motherly woman at the front desk. “We’re actually closed now, but if you have an emergency…”

      “The woman who just came in is my emergency,” Tim said. “We’re her new neighbors, and I’m afraid my son put her car out of commission.”

      The woman’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “You’re…him?”

      “I should have introduced myself.” He put out his hand. “I’m Timothy Wainwright.” He glanced at the name plate on the desk. “I’m delighted to meet you, Mrs. Uh…”

      She touched his hand for an instant. “Huh,” she said and turned back to her computer screen.

      “Um, I realize hitting Miss Mayfield’s car isn’t likely to endear me and my family to you, but it was an accident. My son didn’t do it on purpose.”

      The woman didn’t look at him. “The way you treated the Halliburtons was on purpose, though.”

      “I beg your pardon?”

      Mabel turned back. “It’s your right, of course, but in my opinion it was a wicked thing to do, and I know Nancy agrees with me.”

      “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who are the Halliburtons?”

      At that moment the telephone on the desk rang. Mabel picked it up. “Creature Comfort.”

      Wainwright hadn’t even looked at the name on the front gate of the clinic’s parking lot. He was about to go back to his children before they bailed out of the car and fled into the night alone in search of pizza without him when Mabel finished answering a question and hung up. “Um, do you have any idea how long Miss Mayfield is likely to be?”

      “Why?”

      He gave Mabel his most endearing smile. It nearly always worked on distraught parents. Didn’t work on Mabel, however. “I’m her chauffeur until we can get her a rental car.”

      “No idea. Could be an hour, could be six.”

      “I’m going to go feed my children some pizza. Where do you recommend?”

      Grudgingly she gave him the name and address of a chain pizza place, and directions to get there.

      He pulled out a business card. “Here’s my card with my cell phone number. When Miss Mayfield needs me to pick her up, just have her call me. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

      “Don’t bother,” Mabel said. “I will personally see that Nancy gets home safely, and I’ll pick her up tomorrow morning and take her to a car rental place.”

      The place was air-conditioned, but the ice in Mabel’s voice dropped the temperature another twenty degrees. He nodded. “Thanks, but I’ll have to rent the car for her. My credit card, you know.”

      “Fine. See that you do.”

      He started out, then turned back. “Um, could you tell me who the Halliburtons are and what I did to them?”

      The woman in front of him actually swelled up. Since she was no lightweight to start with, she looked formidable. “You don’t even know the names of your tenants?”

      “I’m sorry?”

      “They’ve lived in your house across from Nancy for ten years. They’ve tried time and time again to buy it from you, and every time you’ve refused. Then out of the blue, you toss them straight out onto the street like so much trash so you and your family can invade.” Her eyes narrowed. “What happened? Chicago get too hot for you?”

      Oh, great. He’d only met two people so far and both of them hated him. He’d never even heard the Halliburtons’ name. “My agent has handled the property ever since Granddad died.” He tried to sound conciliatory and wound up sounding even more arrogant and uncaring. Surely these Halliburtons didn’t actually wind up on the street. He’d have to find out somehow. His agent might know. He didn’t think this woman was the proper person to ask. “I knew the tenants had tried to buy the house, but it’s been in my family for over a hundred years. I’d never sell it.”

      “You sure as shootin’ haven’t cared about it for the past ten,” Mabel snapped and dismissed him.

      He gave up and went back to the car. He hoped his children hadn’t ripped up the upholstery while he’d been gone.

      Eddy was asleep with his head against the side of the car. Angie was still jouncing to her silent music, but Jason was nowhere to be found. Oh, great. “Where’s your brother?” he asked Angie. Twice.

      She waved a hand. “He went off that way around the back.” She pointed to the edge of the parking lot.

      “If you ever expect to eat another pizza, don’t move and keep an eye on Eddy.” He trotted off around the building.

      This clinic stretched a long way back from the modern brick building in front into a large metal building like a warehouse. Lights under the eaves showed him to where more light poured out from open garage doors at the side. He started to call for Jason, then saw him inside the metal building—must be a barn for large animals. He was standing beside some kind of pipe enclosure.

      “Jason?”

      The boy jumped. “I’m not doing anything,” he said sulkily.

      Tim walked into the light. In the stall a large gray-and-white sheep stood placidly chomping hay while two—what?—sheeplets? No, kids. Or was that for goats? Lambs. He must be losing his mind not to remember. God, he was an English professor—teacher—now. Words were his thing.

      He was simply too tired to think straight. The nine-hour

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