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slave quarters—now called the garconnière—at her best friend Jimmy Dee Scoggin’s house. Jimmy Dee shared the Big House, as they’d taken to calling it, with his two adopted children, his late sister’s kids, Sheila and Kenny, and a black-and-white dog called Angel.
    Steve Steinman, who was staying with Skip, also had a dog—a German shepherd named Napoleon. Skip hated Napoleon and Napoleon hated her. In fact, Napoleon hated just about everybody except Kenny and Steve.
    Normally, all this made for a pretty lively household, but with the tension in the garconnière and one other little detail, it was currently chaos.
    The other detail was Jimmy Dee’s friend Layne. Jimmy Dee’s beloved, if the truth be told. Jimmy Dee was gay, a fact that had turned out to be easier for the kids to accept than anyone thought it would, and Layne was about to be a new addition to the family. Everyone was thrilled about it. The kids loved him. (“His main virtue,” Dee-Dee said wryly, “is that he isn’t Uncle Jimmy.”) And Steve was crazy about him, which was a great tension-reliever, since he wasn’t entirely insane for Dee-Dee himself.
    However, Layne’s moving in meant getting a room ready for him, which required more than the normal amount of effort, since Layne was a puzzle designer by trade. This meant any amount of paraphernalia, including games from just about every country in the world.
    And that translated to building cabinets and bookshelves, which necessitated a house full of workmen.
    That put everybody on edge, just about all the time. Skip was just as happy to be going over to Steve’s cottage to help him sand kitchen cabinets. “Can I help?” Kenny asked wistfully. “Anybody can sand.”
    “Okay, sure. Get Angel and come on.”
    From where they all stood in the courtyard, they could hear Dee-Dee and Layne arguing in the kitchen. “But I need to have things where I can see them.”
    “Well, I need to have them where I can’t.”
    Kenny looked forlorn. “They were so nice to each other before all this started.”
    Skip laughed. “So were we.”
    And now Steve looked hurt. “I’m still nice to you.”
    “I’m sorry. I’ve always been the difficult one. Everyone knows that.”
    Kenny said, “Oh, never mind, I guess I’ll stay there.” He went back into the house, elephant-legged shorts flopping about on skinny legs. His feet looked like Nike-clad boards attached to his ankles. His shoulders slumped.
    Steve said, “Now see what you’ve done.”
    “Damn!” She went after him. “Kenny! Kenny, I was just kidding. Come on—moving’s one of the five most stressful things you can ever do. Nobody means anything. We’re just discombobulated.”
    She could have bitten her tongue, knowing he was going to ask about the other stresses. His mother had died a few years ago. He knew firsthand about stress.
    But he said nothing, just kept walking, shoulders slumped.
    Dee-Dee stared at her. “What’d you do to him?”
    “Oh, nothing. He’s upset because everybody’s snappy.”
    “Oh, God, is it all worth it? Maybe we all just ought to go for a hike.”
    Skip shrugged. “Cabinets to sand.”
    But Kenny turned around. “Yeah. Maybe we ought to.” He was the rare kid who didn’t mind doing things with adults.
    Skip saw he was smiling. “Y’all have fun.” She rejoined Steve in the courtyard.
    He said, “Listen, I’ve been thinking. You need a day off. Why don’t you stay home and wash your hair or something?”
    “You know what? That’s not a half-bad idea.” She did need a day off.
    They drank another cup of coffee and she kissed Steve good-bye. She was puttering about the kitchen thinking about flopping down with a good book when her pager went off, a rare thing for a Saturday morning.
    “What the hell?” she said aloud, and looked at it. It registered a number she didn’t recognize. “Oh, well.” Wearily she dialed it.
    A woman answered, and she identified herself. “Detective Skip