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Vicki. She could turn out to be an ally.”
    “Okay,” she said. “This human relations stuff is your area. But let me know if she continues to be difficult. I don’t want
anything
getting in the way of solving this thing.”
     
     
    The room was inundated with LuvBunnies — on the windowsill, nightstand, the bed tray, atop the TV. A bucktoothed, rainbow-hued welcoming party.
    The rails of the bed were lowered. A beautiful child lay sleeping — a tiny bundle barely swelling the covers.
    Her heart-face was turned to one side; her rosebud mouth, pink and parted. Buttermilk skin, chubby cheeks, nubbin nose. Her hair was sleek, straight, and black and trickled onto her shoulders. The bangs were moist and they stuck to her forehead. A ring of lace collar was visible above the blanket hem. One hand was concealed; the other, dimpled and clenched, gathered the fabric. Its thumb was the size of a lima bean.
    The sleeper sofa by the window was unfolded to a single bed that had been made up. Military corners, pillow smooth as eggshell. A flowered vinyl overnight bag sat on the floor next to an empty food tray.
    A young woman sat cross-legged on the edge of the mattress, reading
TV Guide
. As soon as she saw us she put down the magazine and got up.
    Five five, firm figure, slightly long-waisted. Same shiny dark hair as her daughter’s, parted in the middle, tied back loosely and gathered in a thick braid that nearly reached her waist. Same facial cast as Cassie’s, too, stretched by maturity to something just barely longer than the perfect oval. Fine nose; straight, wide, unpainted mouth with naturally dark lips. Big brown eyes. Bloodshot.
    No makeup, scrubbed complexion. A girlish woman. Twenty-six but she could easily have passed for a college student.
    From the bed came a soft, breathy sound. Cassie sighing. All of us looked over at her. Her eyelids remained closed but they fluttered. Threads of lavender vein were visible beneath the skin. She rolled over, facing away from us.
    I thought of a bisque doll.
    All around us, the LuvBunnies leered.
    Cindy Jones looked down at her daughter, reached over and smoothed hair out of the child’s eyes.
    Turning back to us, she ran her hands over her clothes, hurriedly, as if searching for unfastened buttons. The clothes were simple — plaid cotton shirt over faded jeans and medium-heeled sandals. A pink plastic Swatch watch. Not the post-deb, VIP daughter-in-law I’d expected.
    “Well,” whispered Stephanie, “looks like someone’s snoozing away. Get any sleep yourself, Cindy?”
    “A little.” Soft voice, pleasant. She didn’t have to whisper.
    “Our mattresses have a way to go, don’t they?”
    “I’m fine, Dr. Eves.” Her smile was tired. “Actually, Cassie slept great. She woke once, around five, and needed a cuddle. I held her and sang to her for a while and finally she fell back around seven. Guess that’s why she’s still out.”
    “Vicki said she had a headache.”
    “Yes, when she woke. Vicki gave her some liquid Tylenol and that seemed to work.”
    “Tylenol was the right thing to give her, Cindy. But in the future all medications — even over-the-counter stuff — will have to be approved by me. Just to play it safe.”
    The brown eyes opened wide. “Oh. Sure. I’m sorry.”
    Stephanie smiled. “No big deal. I just want to be careful. Cindy, this is Dr. Delaware, the psychologist we spoke about.”
    “Hello, Dr. Delaware.”
    “Hello, Mrs. Jones.”
    “Cindy.” She extended a narrow hand and smiled shyly. Likable. I knew my job wasn’t going to be easy.
    Stephanie said, “As I told you, Dr. Delaware’s an expert on anxiety in children. If anyone can help Cassie cope, he can. He’d like to talk with you right now, if this is a good time.”
    “Oh… sure. This is fine.” Cindy touched her braid and looked worried.
    “Terrific,” said Stephanie. “If there’s nothing you need from me, I’ll be going.”
    “Nothing I can think of right now,