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She pointed a finger at Penn. “You took too long. I took your turn, and then I crashed again and lost. I gotta get home. I think I peed my pants when I got so excited.”
    She started down the path while CC and Penn followed.
    “You’re Vivian Battle?”
    She glanced back and shuffled along. “I am.”
    “Don’t say anything, Viv,” Penn advised.
    CC shot her a look. “I’m here on a legal matter.”
    Viv continued to power walk toward the break in the hedge, and CC was impressed by her quick stride. According to her records, Viv was sixty-nine.
    “A legal matter?” she asked. “I don’t know any reason a lawyer would need me. I’m not getting divorced, I’m not in a dispute with my neighbors and I’m not dead.”
    “No, ma’am, it’s none of those issues. My name is CC Carlson. I’m with Hartford and Burns, and I do have an important matter to discuss with you. It’s very urgent.”
    She glanced at her. “Honey, here’s what I know. When you get to be my age, your body calls the shots and you answer. Right now there’s nothing more important than the bathroom. Whatever you need to discuss will have to wait at least five minutes.”
    She charged up the back steps and through the door. Penn turned and prevented her from following Viv inside, crossing her arms like a sentry.
    “Hartford and Burns?” she asked with disdain. “Otherwise known as Heartless and Burned?”
    She ignored the nickname that went around the legal community and asked, “Can we please be civil?”
    “If this is so urgent and important then she needs to have her attorney present, especially if it involves Heartless and Burned.”
    She checked her watch again. “And who would that be? How long will it take for him to get here?”
    Penn leaned forward and she took a step back. “ She’s already here. I’m Viv’s attorney.”
    Her jaw dropped. “You’re serious?”
    “Cal Berkeley class of two thousand. You?”
    “Indiana University.”
    “What year did you graduate?”
    She hesitated and looked away. “Recently.”
    She chuckled. “I thought so. You’re fresh blood. Right out of school and going to work for the big dogs. I hope you don’t get eaten.”
    “Not likely,” she said without much conviction. Determined to shift the conversation she asked pointedly, “So are you a real attorney or did you lose your license?”
    Penn offered a crooked smile. CC realized it wouldn’t be easy to rattle her. Not like you. Your fuse is an inch long and you wear your emotions like a sandwich board around your neck.
    “So which is it?” She smiled and a flicker of heat registered in Penn’s eyes.
    “My license is current. How and when I choose to use it is my business.”
    “And what kind of name is Penn?”
    “It’s short for Pennington, my last name.”
    “And what’s your first name?”
    “Tell me what CC stands for and I’ll tell you my first name.”
    She shook her head. “Not gonna happen.”
    They stared each other down until the door opened and Viv appeared. “Okay, c’mon in. The sun is shining, my fanny’s dry and I’ve got some fresh iced tea and sweet potato pie for you girls.”
    As they entered the sun porch, CC stopped suddenly. Tacked on the walls were dozens of images she recognized from childhood, Chloe the Chameleon. Some were simple pencil drawings while most were brilliant watercolor illustrations that she remembered from the series of books she’d loved growing up.
    Carts and racks filled with watercolors, pastels and pens covered most of the floor space as well as bookshelves crammed with papers and design books. A drafting table sat against the bank of windows, facing the pool, displaying five photos of antique stagecoaches and a sketch of Viv’s own rendition of them. 
    She turned to her and exclaimed, “You draw Chloe! I love Chloe the Chameleon.” She realized she sounded incredibly stupid and quickly added, “I mean, as a child I read all of the books.”
    She smiled