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who’d decided to buck instead of canter in the client’s under-saddle class. Kate had schooled him afterward, and the nervous ammy had begged her to show him for her. They’d gone in the Large Junior Hunters and wound up as division champions. The client had been thrilled, which was nice, but it still made Kate smile to remember how grateful Jamie had been. This particular adult client was easily rattled, and after seeing how well her horse had gone with Kate, she’d had the guts to get back on and jump him around a low schooling class successfully. Disaster averted.
    Kate’s smile faded as she noticed that every window in her house was blazing with light. She checked her watch. It was well after eleven, and her father always worked Sunday nights. This couldn’t be good.
    “Mom?” she called as she let herself in.
    “In here, Katie!” her mother’s thin, tremulous voice drifted back from the direction of the kitchen.
    Kate’s heart clenched as she hurried that way. She found her mother standing in front of the small, worn butcher-block kitchen island with half the pantry’s contents set out on its scarred surface. As she entered, her mother was touching each can of soup and box of noodles with the tip of one thin finger—twice, then again, then on to four, the magic number—her lips moving as she counted silently along.
    “Mom?”
    There was no answer. Kate gritted her teeth, knowing she might as well be patient. Otherwise her mother would only have to start the counting ritual over again.
    Finally Kate’s mom gave four light taps to the last of the cans in the row before her. Only then did she look up and smile uncertainly at her daughter.
    “What time is it, sweetie?” she asked. “Is your horse show over?”
    “Yeah, Mom. It’s like quarter after eleven. Where’s Andy?”
    Her mother blinked and looked around, her thin, pale face uncertain. “I—I think he’s in his room. Surely he’s resting up. He has summer school tomorrow, after all.”
    Kate closed her eyes for a second, gathering strength. She had the sinking feeling that her younger brother wasn’t in his room in the basement. He was probably still out with his rotten friends, the ones who’d distracted him enough all year to make him flunk two classes and have to attend summer school. If their dad found out he was screwing up again …
    But that wasn’t her problem to solve, and she didn’t have the energy right now, anyway. Her mother was already back at it, stacking four cans neatly atop one another, then carrying the stack to the pantry, which was standing open. She set the cans down carefully, lining them up with the matching stack of four anchovy tins beside them, then touched each can four more times.
    “How did your weekend go, sweetie?” she asked Kate after that. “Did you have fun?”
    “Sure.” Kate suspected her mother thought her shows weren’t much more complicated than the pony rides she’d begged for as a child every time they went to the fair. “It was big fun. But I’m tired—I’d better hit the sack. Good night.”
    She scurried out of the room without waiting for a response. Watching her mother in full-blown OCD mode always made her feel uncomfortable and slightly sick to her stomach.
    Her bedroom was in the gabled half-story at the top of a narrow flight of stairs, across from the spare room. In here, too, every light was on, and Kate saw right away that her mother had been there while she was gone. Four of her old stuffed animals were arranged atop the neatly made bed, which Kate had left unneatly unmade when she’d stumbled out of the room early Wednesday morning. The photos and other knickknacks she kept on her dresser were grouped into fours, and Kate knew that if she opened her underwear drawer, her bras and panties would be tidily arranged in little groups of four, too.
    She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone, speed-dialing her father’s number. He liked her to check in so he