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see him. It took him a second to recall that she was the teacher Cal had mentioned to him the night before.
    “Great. Send her back.”
    “Will do, and then I’m gone for the weekend. I’ll lock the door when I go.”
    “Thanks. Have a good weekend,” he said, even as the door to his office swung open to reveal a pretty woman, probably in her early thirties, with soft clouds of highlighted brown curls framing her face. She was wearing one of those filmy skirts that seemed to be in style these days and a ruffled sweater. It all had the effect of softening her appearance. The effect was spoiled, though, by the no-nonsense glint in her eyes. He couldn’t quite imagine Misty choosing her to speak to about her problems.
    “Dr. Fullerton,” she said briskly. “I’m Laura Reed, Misty Dawson’s English teacher.”
    He stood and held out his hand. “Call me J.C. It’s nice to meet you.”
    “Really? You didn’t seem so enthusiastic when Maybelle Hawkins at the Serenity Inn wanted to fix us up.”
    He was about to sputter an embarrassed response when he caught the glint of real amusement in her eyes and realized she was actually teasing him, though he didn’t doubt for a second that Maybelle had tried to set them up. Until he’d moved out of the inn, the innkeeper had been second only to Debra in her determination to find him a wife.
    “Actually, Maybelle tried to fix me up with at least a dozen women while I was staying at the inn. Her choices ranged from wildly inappropriate to downright weird. Excuse me for being skeptical about her taste.”
    Laura laughed, and the tension in her face vanished. “But she does have the heart of a romantic,” she said. “Must be all those trysts I hear were held at the inn over the years.”
    “That would definitely explain it,” he agreed, thinking how much prettier she was with a smile on her face. “So you’re here about Misty. Cal Maddox mentioned to me last night that you’d been concerned about her. Did she open up to you today about whatever’s going on?”
    “Not really,” Laura admitted. “She did come to see me, though, and tried to convince me to let her transfer out of my advanced placement English class.”
    J.C. frowned. “Is she failing?”
    “Far from it.”
    “Then why would she want to drop the class?”
    “I have no idea. I was hoping, if you have the time, we could compare notes on what she said to each of us and see if we can figure this out. I’m worried she’s in some kind of trouble. What was your perception?”
    “The same thing,” he admitted. Though it went against his gut instincts, he impulsively found himself asking, “Are you free for dinner? We could go to Rosalina’s or Sullivan’s and see if we can come up with any answers. Or did Maybelle find someone else who’s now waiting impatiently at home for you?”
    “Maybelle’s matchmaking on my behalf was no more successful than hers was with you. And truthfully I’m starved, so dinner sounds great.”
    “Any preference?”
    “Either place works for me.”
    “It’ll be quieter at Sullivan’s, and the service is fast. There’s a game at the high school tonight. I assume you’re going?”
    “I usually meet a couple of other teachers there,” she confirmed.
    “Good, then we’re both on a timetable. I’ll tell the waitress. If we’re lucky, the Friday-night special will be catfish. No one does it quite like Dana Sue.”
    “So I hear,” she said.
    He regarded her with surprise. “You haven’t been there?”
    “Just a few times, and I’ve never had the catfish. Sullivan’s is a little beyond a teacher’s salary except for rare special occasions. Once in a while several of the teachers get together there to celebrate a birthday, but we usually opt for the Sunday brunch.”
    “Then Sullivan’s it is, and it’s my treat.”
    Her green eyes sparkled with more of that unexpected mirth. “Wouldn’t that almost constitute a date? I thought you were opposed to