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broken up. The distant sound of voices faded. Car engines murmured. The front door closed.
    I didn’t know who was staying in the house. I assumed Jake was a resident. She had an aura of proprietorship. I didn’t know if Peg was a guest but she’d promised to stay in the room with Keith so obviously she was to be in the house overnight.
    I glanced toward the ceiling. Not that Wiggins would be hovering there, but he was either at the Department of Good Intentions or possibly out checking on his emissaries. Or was I the only one who required close supervision? I preferred to think I was one among many. Certainly I’d done nothing this evening to require his counsel. Surely the brief interlude with Rob and Dil was acceptable. After all, they may have sensed my presence, but I definitely had remained unseen. Here at Pritchard House, I’d worked quietly behind the scenes. I felt a quiet pride.
    I sat on the edge of the opposite twin bed. When the house settled for the night, I planned to explore the kitchen. I needed a glass of milk and a roast beef sandwich for energy. As for sleeping accommodations, the chaise longue looked inviting.

    I hoped Peg wouldn’t feel crowded with the three of us there. I’d do my best not only to remain silent and invisible, but to contain my natural energy. Bobby Mac claimed I carried energy with me like static electricity.
    However, for now, Keith was sleeping soundly, all was well here, and the night was still young. Perhaps I could discover who lived in Pritchard House in addition to Susan and why her grandson’s arrival had caused such consternation.

    Downstairs in the living room, Peg and Gina loaded trays with plates and bowls.
    Jake paced nervously by the fireplace. The cat lifted her head and gazed with unblinking golden eyes. Jake flung out a hand toward her daughter. “I don’t understand why you didn’t call me. I should have been summoned at once. The idea of a child abandoned on the doorstep is appalling. Someone has been criminally negligent, whoever the child is.”
    “Mother”—Peg looked harried but determined—“he came with papers, including his birth certificate.”
    “Papers.” Jake’s voice was sharp. She waved her hand in dismissal. “Everyone knows that anything can be faked now. You can’t trust pictures on the Internet. Anything can be put in a picture. Anything at all. The other day I saw a picture of the president signing a wildlife bill and there was a flamingo on one side of his desk and a wolf on the other and they looked real as could be. I mean, they were real but they weren’t in the picture until someone put them there.” She nodded her head for emphasis. “So you see what I mean. What’s a birth certificate? We’ll have to see about those papers. But when he came, you should have told me. I take care of everything about the house. Susan relies on me utterly.” Her face flushed an unbecoming pink. “It was outrageous to take him upstairs to Susan without any kind of checking! Peg, what were you thinking?”
    Peg turned, her hands tightly gripping the laden tray. “Mother, I did what I thought best. It happened so suddenly.”
    Gina’s gaze was curious. “Hold up, Jake. If Peg had told you, what would you have done differently?”
    “I’d have done something.” Jake’s face twisted in frustration. “We could have called Wade, asked him to check into everything, not troubled Susan until everything was certain.”
    Peg’s eyes were soft. “Susan wasn’t troubled. It’s the first time since Mitch died that she’s been truly happy.
    It was wonderful.”
    A tic pulled at Jake’s left eye. “How dreadful for Susan is he isn’t Mitch’s son.”
    “He is.” Peg spoke with finality. “There are too many papers, too many links to Mitch. He said he was Mitch’s son. How would he know Mitch was a hero unless someone told him?”
    Gina added a bowl of nuts to her tray. “Susan intends to talk to Wade tomorrow.”
    Jake clasped