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line disconnected almost before her brain finished processing the information that she was issued.
    Roshelle sat with the tiny bit of technology clutched between frozen fingers. She had to get help, she needed to call…
    No one!
    The man on the other end of the line was brutally explicit on just what would happen if Roshelle involved anyone else.
    It was a joke. A horrible, sick prank. Roshelle snapped to attention and forced a new line of numbers into the phone. She would just call…and Christina would answer and that would be the end of it.
    “Really, Doctor, I did expect better from a person of your intelligence level. However, proof can be provided.”
    The slight sounds of the phone being handed off came across the line. “Speak to her,” drifted next, but it was not spoken into the phone itself but instead to someone in the vicinity of the unit.
    Someone hissed a reply back but it came across as nothing but muffled sounds.
    “Your friend is very stubborn, but we will break her.”
    The chilling certainty of the man’s ability to do just that seemed to be conveyed in the arctic tone of his voice.
    “No!” Several people in the parking lot turned their attention towards her apparent distress. Forcing her voice to mask her growing terror required tremendous amounts of will.
    “That won’t be necessary.”
    “Twelve hours.”
    This time the silence of the disconnected line was as startling as a gunshot. Her fingers fumbled as she tried to turn the key in the ignition. There was so much to do and she only had twelve hours, really only four because it was already one in the afternoon.
    The obstacle that had been placed in front of her seemed almost too steep to scale, but she would. Christina was the only true family that she had.
    If they wanted her land that bad they could just have it!
    * * * * *
    “This is very sudden, Roshelle; are you sure you want to do this?”
    It was strange the way the simplest of questions could break through a person’s panic. Standing in the land deed office, as she was just a breath away from complying with a kidnapper, Candice Talbert’s question reached out to slap her back into rational thought.
    If she signed the land over, what assurance did she have that Christina would ever be seen again?
    The hand that held an ink pen began to shake as the horrible possibilities started to circulate inside her head. For that matter, she was to deliver the papers later tonight; once her signature was affixed to the deed then she herself would have no other purpose.
    Except to blow the whistle.
    Firmly placing the pen back into its holder, Roshelle aimed a smile at Candice.
    “I believe you’re correct. I think I’ll just take a few days to think it over. In fact, I’d appreciate it if you’d remember to try and talk me out of it if I try this again.”
    “Well, just don’t go sending that thing over with a delivery boy.”
    “Candice, I promise you that if I do sell, I’ll find the courage to look you in the eye. In fact, if you don’t get it from my hand, don’t accept it.”
    “Well, now, I’ve got a form you can sign to that effect.”
    “Really?” That would sure make things more interesting tonight. Roshelle forced her hand to stop shaking as she applied her signature to the contract Candice slid onto the countertop. The stakes were rather high, but what choice did she have? Walking out with a deed in her hand seemed like hoisting a white flag of surrender.
    “That’s a girl.” Candice would have added a few more bits of advice but her guest rounded on her heel and started down the hallway. Some people just had no respect for their family roots. Still, Roshelle didn’t seem the sort to just sell up after her kin passed on. Candice considered her encounter with the young woman before reaching for the telephone, maybe her friend Ruth would have some light to shed on the situation.
    * * * * *
    So, just what was the thing with her grandmother’s land?
    Phone calls were