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because his injuries need more care, and because his home is not fit to be lived in.”
    Valentina looked at her some more and said, “What else?” Kassie almost smiled, because this woman was savvier than she’d hoped. Yes, there was more, or why had they summoned her all the way from her home in Muncie? They could have told her all this on the phone.
    â€œWell, something needs to be done about that house, but I don’t have the authority to do anything unless he agrees.” She held up a hand against an objection she was sure was coming. “Nor does the person in charge of his finances.”
    â€œBut I sure don’t, either.”
    â€œNot right now, you don’t. But there’s a way you can get the authority. It’s called an emergency conservatorship, and it’s a whole lot easier to get if you’re the next of kin. It’s a legal option, it needs to be done by a judge after a hearing. My understanding is that it can be done quickly, but the person to talk to about getting one is the man in charge of Tom’s trust. He’s an attorney named James Penberthy. His office is in Excelsior.”
    Again there fell a silence while Valentina studied Kassie’s face. Kassie tried to look as sincere and hopeful and friendly as she could, while Valentina successfully concealed what she was thinking.
    â€œLet me talk to Tommy first,” she said at last.
    *   *   *
    V ALENTINA slipped into the hospital room feeling a little wary. She had not seen her cousin in years and wasn’t sure of her welcome.
    Tommy was asleep, or seemed to be. There was a big bandage on one side of his face, but she recognized him right away: the peaked nose, the dark freckles, the wide mouth, pursed a little in sleep. There was a deep crease between his thin, dark eyebrows; that was something new. Of course, he was somewhere around sixty-three, so it was time he got a few lines on his face.
    The covers on his bed were awry, exposing the huge, complicated bandage on his right leg. His foot was bare, the toes lumpish and the nails needing to be cut. There were bruises on his hands and arms, some of them scabby. He looked shrunken; he must have lost weight—or maybe not. He’d been a skinny kid so why shouldn’t he be a skinny old man?
    She approached the side of his bed, which was cranked into a half-sitting position. “Tommy,” she called softly.
    His nose twitched and he reached up to rub it, but his eyes stayed closed.
    â€œTommy, it’s me, Val. Are you awake?”
    â€œMph, yuh?” muttered Tommy. “Whosit?”
    â€œMe, Val. I’ve come to take care of you.”
    â€œWho?” The dark eyes opened and wandered around a bit before coming to look up at her. “Oh, it’s you, Val. I was just hopin’ you might come.” He swallowed thickly. “Can you take me home?”
    â€œNo, you got to stay for a while longer. You were hurt bad by that tree falling on you.”
    He smiled. “Yeah, that ol’ tree did a job, all right. On me
and
my house. Say, Val, can you go out there an’ check on it for me? I got this feelin’ people been goin’ in there and messing with my things.”
    â€œYou still living in that brick house your dad left you? Out in Excelsior?”
    â€œWell, sure, where else would I be livin’?”
    â€œHow should I know?” she asked, sounding aggrieved—her default position when she didn’t know what to say. “You never write nor call.”
    â€œAin’t got nuthin’ to say,” he grumbled.
    â€œThat never stopped your tongue before!”
    â€œNow lookie here, you gonna get an attitude, you can just go away!”
    â€œAll right, all right, let’s not get our jammies in a wad,” she said, gentling her tone. “’Cause now we do have something to say to each other. This lady I talked to, her name’s