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shelter.” Angel glanced at the wicker sofa where Candace had been sitting. It was empty.
    “She’s in the barn, with her kids,” Jill offered. “Said she needed to get them a snack and tell them about their dad.”
    “Thanks.” Angel removed the shoe coverings and placed them in a box by the door.
    Candace was sitting on a bale of hay just inside the double doors, her gaze directed toward the house. Her youngest child, a girl about five, huddled beside her. The second child, a boy, glanced over at Angel. He stood on a gate looking into a stall and jumped down when Angel entered the barn and joined his mother. Standing behind Candace, he placed what looked like a protective hand on her shoulder. Did they know yet? With his father gone, had he already slipped into the protector mode? Protector? Maybe the poor kid had been in that mode for a long time.
    Angel hunkered down in front of Candace. “How are you holding up?”
    Candace turned to look at her then, her eyes unfocused and confused. “Is he . . . is his body still in the house? The kids are getting hungry. I need to start dinner.”
    “He’s gone, but you can’t go in there for a while. The police are still gathering evidence. You’ll need a place to stay tonight. Do you have any family or friends you could stay with?”
    She stared off toward the house again. “No. No one. Our families are in California. We haven’t really made any friends—not people I could ask. We haven’t lived here very long, and we live so far out.”
    Isolation. Another pattern of abuse. Angel thought about the soup in her mother’s inviting kitchen. “We’ll figure out something. In the meantime, you can come to my parents’ place for dinner.”
    “Oh, we couldn’t.”
    “Yes, you can. We have a huge pot of soup on the stove. My mom would be very unhappy if I didn’t bring you over.” Angel took out her cell phone and dialed her parents’ number. When Anna answered, Angel explained the situation.
    “Of course. Bring them, and tell Candace she and the children are welcome to spend the night.”
    “Uh, Ma, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
    “Nonsense. They need a place to stay, and we have plenty of room.”
    “All right. We’ll see how things go.”
    After hanging up Angel relayed the message.
    “Your mother is so sweet. But we couldn’t stay. I wouldn’t want to put her out.”
    “Like she says, they have plenty of room. Besides, she’ll be upset with me if I don’t bring you.”
    “I don’t know. We have sleeping bags and camping equipment. We could sleep in the barn.”
    “That’s not a good idea.” Angel glanced at Bo, who had moved from his car to the porch and was having a conversation with Nick. Both officers looked their way.
    “The police are going to need to question all of you. You’ll need someone to watch the children when they do.” They may even arrest you .
    Candace stared at the hay-scattered floor and soothed her little girl’s golden curls. “Are you sure she won’t mind?”
    “Positive.”
    Pressing her hands to her knees, Angel straightened. She glanced from one child to the other. “Do they know?”
    Candace nodded.
    “I’m so sorry about your dad,” Angel said to them.
    “Don’t be sad.” The little girl slipped her hand into Angel’s. “Daddy’s in heaven with Jesus. Want to see our baby goat?”
    “It’s a kid,” the boy corrected.
    “Sure.” Angel allowed the little girl to pull her into the depths of the old barn. They led her back to the stable where the boy had been when she’d first come in. He climbed on the wooden door and pointed into the corner of the stall.
    “He’s adorable.” Angel watched the kid take several wobbly steps. “When was he born?”
    “It’s a she,” the boy said. “Night before last.”
    “We named her Midnight,” the girl said, “’cause she’s so black and that’s the time she was borned.”
    “That’s a nice name. What are your names?”
    “Dorfy,”