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he was likely to find Dale.
    I’d tried to make it clear I no longer held it against the young man that he’d once kidnapped me. The incident occurred before his reformation (“meeting my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.”) He’d paid for his crimes with several months in the county jail, where he met a young social worker who converted him from criminal to good citizen, pagan to Christian, and quite recently, from bachelor to husband. Gabe’s life had completely turned around, though he and his new wife Mindy had yet to move out of her mother’s house on the north side of Allport.
    Once Gabe paid his debt to society, we’d started giving him intermittent work at the agency, hoping to encourage him to stay on the straight and narrow path. Despite that, Gabe looked at the floor 95% of the time when I was in the room and communicated through my husband whenever possible.
    At Dale’s invitation, Gabe plopped into the chair across from him. It was Barb’s usual place, but she’s a breakfast skipper. I don’t approve, but so far I’ve only convinced her to come down once a week for the most important meal of the day.
    The bacon was already sputtering and bubbling in the pan. Taking a table setting from the cupboard and laying it out before him I said, “You’re out and about early, Gabe.”
    Wincing as if I’d pointed out some fault in his character he replied, “Got up at six to drive Mindy to work.”
    “Wow.” I tried to sound impressed, though Dale and I are usually up by five. Farmer time, Dale calls it.
    “We’re sharing her car right now ’cause I finally have the money to fix up my truck.” His toothy grin appeared. “I got a job.”
    “That’s great.” Dale had risen to get our visitor a cup of coffee, and as he set the mug down, he punched Gabe gently on the shoulder. I took the perfectly-fried bacon out, laid it on paper towels to drain, and cracked half a dozen eggs into the pan. Scrawny as an alley cat, Gabe will eat anytime someone offers food. My theory is that kids and animals that grow up hungry seize every chance at a meal. It’s instinct.
    Though he practically glowed with pride at our approval, Gabe tried to be modest. “The owner at Baxter’s Moving and Storage don’t mind that I spent time in jail. I start as cleaner and extra staff, but he said if I get training I can maybe get to be their maintenance man when the one they got now retires next year.”
    “Sounds like a great opportunity.”
    Gabe cleared his throat as if preparing to give a speech. “I don’t want you ladies to think I’m leaving you in the lurch. If you need help on a case, just give me a call. I’ll find the time.”
    I tried to appear grateful. Dale rose and busied himself by refilling his coffee mug, but I saw the smile he hid in the process. Though Gabe saw himself as an integral part of our agency, we needed him about as much as the country needed more people running for President in 2016.
    Once we’d eaten, Dale and Gabe went out to Dale’s workshop, talking cars as they went. I cleaned the kitchen until my phone chimed. The text was a request that I come out to the Meadows if it was convenient. I don’t go every time they have a problem with Harriet, but when they contact me, I know they’ve already tried everything they can think of to calm her down. With only a tiny sigh, I got my coat, purse, and car keys, leaving a note for Dale that said simply, Harriet again .
    My mother-in-law insisted someone had broken into her room during the night and robbed her. “I had two peanut butter cups right here in this drawer, and now they’re gone,” she complained as soon as I walked into the room. “I don’t mind sharing, but—” Her voice rose to a bellow.—“I will not tolerate thieves!” She’d already threatened to move out (She couldn’t walk), call the police (We’d taken away her phone months ago), and holler until someone paid attention (That she could do).
    Since I never went to the