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touch with you.”

    For a brief moment the woman’s eyes softened, a look of hope crossed her face, but it quickly dissolved into bitterness. “It’s Earl, all right. He lied to you.”

    “I don’t think so. He’s a fat guy with dark brown hair, blue eyes and a beard, right?”

    “No, kinda skinny with dark red hair, like yours and Christy’s, and brown eyes. No beard. Just a curly mustache. Looks like a barbershop quartet tenor.”

    For the first time, the hand that held the gun began to tremble. Savannah was immensely relieved to see Lisa lower the pistol to her side.

    “Really?” Lisa’s eyes searched hers, begging her to be telling the truth.

    Holding up two fingers, Savannah said solemnly, “Scout’s honor.”

    “Were you ever a Girl Scout?”

    Savannah shrugged and gave her a sheepish grin. “No, but I was a Blue Bird for six months in ‘62 .”

    “Close enough.” She opened the door wider. “Come on in.”

    Usually, Savannah refused any form of refreshment when conducting an investigation in someone’s home. But the fresh peanut butter and M&M cookies on the kitchen table were too great a temptation to be denied.

    “I put the candies on myself,” Christy bragged, still prancing around in her regal, fairy queen attire. “Four on each one and all different colors.”

    “I can see that. You did an excellent job.” Savannah smiled at her and once again felt the twang of loss. Dang those biological urges, she thought. “You’re almost as good a baker as you are a dancer.”

    Christy blushed with pride, but Lisa seemed less affected by her comments. Silently, she stepped over to the stove and poured two mugs of coffee. Joining them at the table, she slid onto a chair across from Savannah, pushing some piles of bills aside.

    Overdue...considering the red envelopes. But then, Savannah wasn’t going to judge the woman. Recently, her own phone had been scheduled for disconnection, and she had been granted a reprieve only by the grace of Brian O’Donnell’s retainer.

    With only a modicum of civility, Lisa shoved the mug of coffee across the table at Savannah.

    “Chris, go to your room now and play or something. This lady and I have some business to discuss.”

    Christy’s face crumpled into a pout, her bottom lip protruding to the extreme that Savannah thought pigeons might have been tempted to perch on it. “I don’t wanna play right now,” the child said, casting a curious look at Savannah.

    “Then go into my room and watch television.”

    “I’m not supposed to watch TV until I have all my homework done.”

    “So, do your homework first... in your room.”

    “But...but it’s that hard stuff... long division .. . and you said you’d help me. I can’t do it by myself.”

    “Christina Louise.”

    “Okay, I’m going. I’m going.”

    Savannah wiped her hand across her lips, trying to hide her smile as the once-graceful pageant queen stomped away to her bedroom, ruffles bouncing indignantly.

    “Do you have kids?” Lisa asked as she took a sip from her mug. Savannah noticed that, in spite of her forced nonchalance, her hands were still shaking. Savannah didn’t think it was from a caffeine overdose.

    “No, I’m sorry to say I don’t. But I practically raised my eight younger brothers and sisters back in Georgia. Do I get credit for that?”

    Lisa nodded, and a bit of her hostility seemed to slip away. “Eight of them? Yes, tons of credit. That must have been a lot of work and responsibility for a young person.”

    “It was. But I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I really love kids.”

    Across the table, Lisa’s eyes met hers with an intensity born of fear and determination. “Then you can understand why I have to protect my daughter from a man who would destroy her life and mine.”

    “Yes, I can.”

    Lisa paused and took a long drink of her coffee, as though fortifying herself for the rest of the conversation. “Tell me, Ms. Reid, do you