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that so important? I fell asleep in a mild state of curiosity. I dreamed I was running and running on a wire wheel in a big cage and getting nowhere.
    I awoke fours hours later in a dark, chilly room with no furry little companion to keep my feet either wet or warm. I lay there puzzling for a moment, trying to get my bearings. Then I heard Aggie’s welcome home bark. Cassie was back.
    I stood and stretched, surprised to feel remarkably rested. And I was famished.
    I headed toward the kitchen to let Cassie in and feed my face.
    The back of the house was warm and bright with good smells coming from every corner of the kitchen. My mother’s answer to everything is “when in doubt, cook!” I opened the oven a tad to peek and got smacked on the behind with a wooden spoon.
    â€œPaisley Sterling, you’ll fall my cake!”
    I rubbed my smarting nether parts and opened the back door for Cassie. I knew better than to try and correct my mother’s grammar.
    Cassie slumped into the kitchen with a long and mournful mien and a worse disposition.
    â€œGet out of the way you stupid dog!” Immediately contrite, she bent and lifted the fat, squirming puppy into her lap.
    I sat down at the table across from Cassie and waited for her to open up.
    â€œHe’s such an idiot!”
    I knew better than to reply to that.
    â€œHe doesn’t even try to defend himself. He just keeps saying, ‘I didn’t do it’ over and over, but he won’t explain anything. I just don’t understand, Mom. He needs help, but he refuses to let me call Dr. Haywood, or anybody in Atlanta. What are we going to do?”
    She turned her lovely tear-stained face to me. She must have cried all the way home.
    â€œWhat about Bruce Hawkins? Mother, has he returned your call yet?”
    Mother carried the unfrosted cake and a big bowl of icing over to the table and sat down.
    â€œI talked to him about an hour ago. That’s why I’m baking.”
    Cassie and I exclaimed in unison, “Uh-oh.”
    â€œYes, I’m afraid the news is not so good. Bruce is representing the family of the victim, or victims, I should say. He cannot even recommend anyone else because it might be considered a conflict of interest. He said he was sorry because he’d met Ethan when he first came to town and liked him a lot.”
    Cassie’s face got even longer and more morose looking. She was absently stroking Aggie’s soft furry ears. I was a nervous wreck waiting for the first nip of those nasty little teeth. She never let any of us, including Cassie, pet her.
    â€œCassie, tell us exactly what the situation is—not what Ethan says, but what Joiner told you.”
    â€œThat’s just it,” she cried. “I couldn’t talk to Chief Joiner. They made me go in through the back of the jail. I never got to the front office, so I didn’t get to see anyone else. The deputy said it was for my own safety. Something about the town being ‘riled up’—whatever that means.”
    â€œSo, we still don’t know exactly what happened.”
    Mother cleared her throat and licked the icing-covered spatula. I was astounded. That was a first. She must really be upset.
    â€œI spoke to Mavis,” she said quietly.
    â€œAh, ha! Now we’re getting somewhere.”
    Mavis was an erstwhile friend of Mother’s. She had a police scanner and the biggest personal address book in town. Mavis knew everybody’s business before they did. I should have suggested that Mother call her in the first place.
    â€œMavis heard the call over the police scanner when the young woman telephoned for help. I think her name is Hayes, Brittany or Brandy, one of those 1980s names. Anyway, she called 911 and said her father had been shot. Mavis heard the dispatcher order a police car to the Hayes’ farm and then call Doc Baxter. When the police got there, the girl’s father was lying out on the side of