Afternoon sunlight highlighted the petals of the white daisies that grew in front of a small, neat cottage in a quiet Sleepyside street. From the house next door came the sound of a basketball being bounced and the occasional calls of some teenage boys as they played. Dan glanced at the piece of paper in his hand before opening the gate and ushering his companion inside and up the straight path to the door. He pressed the bell and heard the buzz. A few moments passed before the door opened to reveal a woman that he judged to be in her mid- to late-forties – about ten years older than himself. He noted short, dark hair, dark grey eyes and a medium complexion, a trim figure in an unadorned tan dress and matching shoes with two-inch heels. The woman’s apparel was rather more dressy than his grey T-shirt and faded jeans.

“Ann Robbins?” he asked, smiling in spite of the flicker of distaste he had detected in her expression. In that fleeting moment, he wondered whether the look was directed at him, or at the girl beside him. “I’m Dan Mangan and this is my step-daughter, Kaydee Willis. My wife called earlier about piano lessons?”

“I am Miss Robbins,” the woman replied. “Please come in.”

Dan nodded and stepped inside, brushing aside glossy black hair to put a protective hand on the twelve-year-old girl’s shoulder. The glint of his wedding ring caught his eye as he did so; it was still new enough to draw his attention when it came into view. They stepped into a living area, sparsely furnished in tones of soft grey and tan, and their hostess waved them to some rather firm upholstered chairs.

“You are not quite what I was expecting,” the woman mused, as she sat opposite them. “I am not sure that we will be a good match, but I will give your step-daughter a trial, as I would any other potential pupil. I understand she has had lessons before?”

Kaydee nodded. “For two years.”

“Only two?” Miss Robbins raised an eyebrow. “No matter. We will see how well you play. Mr. Mangan, you are welcome to sit in, but please do not interrupt. Miss Willis, please come over to the piano.”

For the following half-hour, Dan watched the interactions between the two and during that time he felt more and more at ease. In spite of the shaky start, a rapport was quickly being built and he knew without having to ask that the teacher would take on the pupil. The irritation he had felt earlier faded away as he found his fears – that Ann Robbins would reject them on appearance only – were unfounded. As the lesson ended, however, he was jolted by the turn of the conversation and wondered whether Kaydee would be the one who rejected the arrangement.

“You’re new in town, I understand?” the woman asked.

“Yes, we just moved in a couple of days ago.” Already, Kaydee was looking defensive. “My step-father used to live here a long time ago, though.”

Miss Robbins nodded. “It’s a wonder you don’t drop the ‘step-’ and just call him your father. With your similar colouring, it would not be at all obvious, if you had the same last name.”

Dan cringed as mischief sparked in Kaydee’s dark eyes. “Give up my poor, dead father’s name? I’m the last thing of his left in the world!”

“I’m terribly sorry. I did not mean to offend,” the teacher answered, clearly mortified. Turning to Dan, she made arrangements for the next lesson and showed them out.

As the car pulled away from the curb, Dan glanced at the girl beside him to try to gauge her mood. “You know full well that your father isn’t dead,” he noted in mild tones. “Not to mention the fact that his name wasn’t Willis. And he has at least half a dozen other kids scattered across the country, not counting your brother.”

“It’s not any of her business,” Kaydee replied, eyes averted.

“No, it isn’t.” He deliberately kept his eyes on the road. “You wanted that story spread all over town, though?”

She shrugged. “I’d rather that one than the truth.”

One side of his mouth quirked up. “The truth isn’t so bad.” He chanced another glance at her and found that she had relaxed. “You’re going to be okay with having lessons there?”

Kaydee nodded. “I didn’t think she’d be so old and stuffy, but I like her anyway. I’m not letting her know that I call you Dan, though. I don’t want her telling me I should call you Daddy.”

“That sounds like a good policy. I don’t think she approves of first names.” He let the ‘old’ comment slide, even though it bothered him. “I’m glad you like her. I think she’ll be a good teacher.”

The girl gave him a sceptical look. “You know a lot about playing the piano?”

“I have a lot of hidden talents,” Dan answered, straight-faced. “You don’t know that I can’t.”

“You’d better prove that you can before I take advice from you,” she challenged.

Dan laughed. “Okay, you got me. I can’t play the piano. But I do have other talents that you don’t know about.”

She gave him a long, hard look. “Like what?”

He shook his head. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

At that moment, they pulled into the drive of their new home and Kaydee hopped out. The front door was standing open, while a bare-chested teenage boy lounged on the front porch. The girl ignored her brother and went straight inside. Dan locked up the car before following at a slower pace.

“Your mother home yet?” he asked, as he neared the boy.

The only response was a scowl and a grunt. Dark eyes, so like Kaydee’s, peered out from under scruffy black hair. The boy’s frame was thin, but well-enough muscled that he looked well-proportioned.

Dan shrugged and went inside. He passed through several rooms in various stages of being set up, then ascended the stairs. He stepped into the bedroom he shared with his new wife. By this time, he was certain that she had not yet arrived home. He was still standing there, lost in thought, when he heard footsteps on the bare floor of the hallway outside.

“Dan? That nosy woman is back. I saw her through the window and I think she’s talking to Ripley.” Kaydee’s face bore a frown as she mentioned her brother. “Do you think you could…”

“I’ll try and get rid of her.” He gave the girl a reassuring smile. “If I’m not back in an hour, make sure you call someone to come rescue me.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but he could see that she was grateful. As he neared the front door, he could hear the strident tones of Ethel Easton, great-aunt to one of his old school-fellows and the worst gossip in the area. In Dan’s opinion, the elderly widow did not have enough to do and it would have helped everyone if her daughter-in-law stopped looking after the woman hand and foot.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Easton,” he greeted, in a tone much more cheery than he felt. “Isn’t it a lovely day?”

“It is quite pleasant,” she conceded, giving him a disapproving look. Dan had to wonder just what was wrong with his appearance today. “Your son is not very forthcoming with information, I must say. I only wanted to know what time his mother was expected.”

“Step-son,” Ripley ground out. “He’s not my father.”

“Yes, of course,” the woman answered, dismissively.

Dan pushed down his annoyance and tried to remain calm. “I expect her any time now. Today’s her first day at work.”

“How lovely. And where is she working?” Mrs. Easton asked.

There was no point in avoiding this line of questioning; the information would be all over town in no time. “In the bank.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose that makes a lot of sense.” The old woman nodded at her own logic, but Dan frowned, wondering just what she meant. “If you don’t mind, I would like to wait and see her. I have been anxious to welcome her to Sleepyside, but the opportunity has not yet presented itself.”

Dan did mind, very much, but did not say so. He was still racking his brains for a safe topic of conversation when a car turned into the street and the old lady made comment on it.

“Oh, that will be Peter Belden. Yes, that does make perfect sense. I see that he’s stopping here and he must be dropping your wife home. I’ll just step down to the car and say hello.”

She was already toddling down the drive when the car pulled up outside the house. Dan trailed along behind, a feeling of apprehension at what would happen next building within him. The front passenger door opened and a tall, slim woman with shoulder-length light brown hair got out. Her face was turned away, as she spoke to the car’s driver, Peter Belden.

In front of him, Mrs. Easton muttered something like, “Now, what has she done with her hair?” and Dan suddenly knew what the rumour was and that it was utterly false. He hastened his steps to reach his wife at the same time as the nosy neighbour.

Mrs. Easton held out both hands in greeting as the younger woman turned, saying, “It’s so lovely to see you… Oh! But you’re not Harold’s girl!”

Kelly Mangan looked from this unknown elderly woman to her husband of three weeks and back again in confusion. “No, I’m not.”

“My wife, Kelly,” Dan explained. “Kelly, this is Mrs. Easton. She lives a block over and I went to school with her great-nephew.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Kelly greeted, while the old lady continued to stare in astonishment.

Dan raised a hand to wave to Peter Belden, who was distancing himself from the scene simply by driving away. He wished that he could leave as easily, provided he could take Kelly with him.

“I’m sorry that we can’t really offer you any hospitality,” Kelly continued. Her expression was regretful, but Dan knew that it was feigned. “We’re still so newly arrived that nothing is unpacked as yet. And, speaking of which, I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me. There’s still a lot that I need to achieve this evening.”

“Of course, dear,” Mrs. Easton answered, still looking unsettled. “I’ll call again sometime when you’re better established.”

A few moments later, she was on her way, leaving Dan and Kelly to return to their own home.

“Who is Harold’s girl, or don’t I want to know?” Kelly asked, as they went inside.

“Trixie’s cousin from Idaho,” Dan answered. He shook his head. “That was a really long time ago, and nothing ever really happened; I never even kissed her. And she lived so far away. I don’t know why people always assume there was something big between us.”

His wife smiled. “From what I’ve seen and heard so far, you seem to have had quite a reputation around here.”

Dan’s face remained serious. “I wonder, sometimes, how I’ll ever live it down.” He shook himself of his reverie and asked, “How was your day?”

“Good.” She gave a shrug. “I’ll be glad when we have a second car, though. It’s more than embarrassing to have your new boss drop you home on the first day.”

“It’s on his way,” Dan objected, “and he doesn’t mind at all, and he’s practically family to me. But if I’d known you felt that way, I could have made other arrangements. Why didn’t you say?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.” She paused to sniff the air. “Am I ever thankful for whoever invented crockpots. That smells great.”

“I’ll serve out, if you convince your offspring to come to the table,” he offered.

Kelly sighed. “They’re still being difficult? I told them both to behave themselves.”

Dan shrugged. “Kaydee was fine, except for one little thing.” He smirked. “She told the piano teacher that her surname was the last link to her poor, dead father. I didn’t correct her.”

Kelly’s eyes squeezed shut. “I guess that will be all over town in no time.” Once more, she sighed. “What about Ripley?”

“He’s fifteen years old and thinks he knows better than you.” Dan paused in the kitchen doorway and dropped a kiss on her lips. “Compared to me at age fifteen, he’s an angel in white. We’ll get through.”

She nodded and turned to go upstairs. A few moments later, while Dan had his back to the door, he heard Ripley enter the room. Remaining casual, he kept at his task, but let the boy know that his presence had been observed.

“I heard what you said.” Ripley’s voice was quiet, but hostile. “You don’t know anything.”

Dan shrugged. “I know you’ve never done some of the things I did at your age.” Turning, he set down two steaming plates of food. “You should be glad of that; some of the things I did were pretty hard to get past.”

“And you think that gives you a right to tell me what to do?”

With a glance at the angry boy, Dan set aside the serving spoon he had just picked up and asked in a calm voice, “When did I ever tell you what to do?”

Ripley shook his head. “That’s not the point. You’re trying to run my life and I’m not going to let you.”

Dan resumed his task and had set the remaining two plates on the table before he answered. “I know you blame me for everything bad that’s happened to you lately – and, yeah, I can see where you got some of that – but maybe not everything that’s happened has been bad. Have you thought of that?”

“I lost everything in this move!” Ripley yelled. “Everything! There’s nothing good about it.”

“You don’t know that, yet.” Dan kept his voice low and calm in the face of the boy’s anger.

Ripley turned away, sneering up at the ceiling. “And you know all about that, do you? You know all about me and what I want and how this stupid town is going to fix everything.”

“No.” Through the doorway, Dan could see Kelly watching, uncertain whether to come closer. “I barely know you; how could I know what you want or need?”

“That’s right, you don’t.” The boy started for the door, but stopped dead as he saw his mother.

“Sit down, please, Ripley,” she requested, reaching out a tentative hand. “It’s time to eat.”

“Not hungry,” the boy muttered, though he gave the food on the table a longing glance.

Dan met Kelly’s eyes, trying to let her know what he thought on the matter. To his relief, she came to the same conclusion and handed her son a plate. Ripley shot Dan another dark look and slipped away without another word.

“What crawled up his nose and died?” Kaydee asked, entering a moment later. “Ever since that time you yelled at him, Mom, he’s been grouchy.”

Kelly looked as if she might burst into tears. Dan took pity on her and brushed the matter off. “Boys can be like that. Are you hungry? It’s time to eat.”

Kaydee nodded and took a seat at the table. For the next half-hour, she kept up a stream of happy chatter about her day, the new places she’d been and the people she had met. As they were clearing the table, she made a comment that brought a smile to her mother’s face.

“I think I’m going to like living here. This house is better than our old apartment and the school’s better than my old one, too.”

“I hope you do like it here, sweetheart. I hope we’ll all be happy here.” Kelly’s hopes were clear in her face as she spoke.

Her daughter shrugged. “Ripley won’t be, but I don’t really care if he isn’t. It serves him right for making so much trouble.”

Dan watched the light drain out of his wife’s face as she was reminded of her son. “It’s a good thing we don’t always get what we deserve,” he told her. “Now, would you rather go up to your room to do some unpacking, or stay here and clean up?”

The girl screwed up her nose at the dirty dishes and indicated that she would go. As soon as he heard her footsteps on the stairs, he gathered Kelly into his arms and kissed her forehead.

“It will be okay,” he told her. “You have to give everyone time to adjust.”

“I don’t know if I did the right thing,” she whispered against his neck. “I keep going over and over the things that happened and I can’t see where I went wrong.”

Dan nodded and held her tighter. Two years ago, when he had first met Kelly, she was a struggling single mother with too much on her plate. He had chosen the apartment block where they both lived for its location and the fact that the apartment was the right size for just himself, if he lived simply. He had been surprised when he found out that hers was the same size, but housed three people.

It had taken time to get to know her and for her to open up about her life and her problems, but Dan had been patient. At first, he only knew the barest outline of her life: that she had been born somewhere overseas to American expatriate parents, that they had moved often through her childhood and teens, that both her parents were now deceased and that her children’s father had left her when Kaydee was just a baby.

As they warmed to each other, she began to share about a happy childhood with adventure-loving parents. Her family had never really settled anywhere, but instead travelled through nearly every state in the union, besides Central America and the Caribbean. She was an only child, the pregnancy more of a shock than a surprise to her parents. Her mother, apparently, had thought that she was going through menopause.

Kelly had been nineteen years old when her parents were killed in a plane crash, leaving her with no relatives. At the time, Kelly had been living and working in Texas. She flew out to Trinidad for the funeral and it was there that she met Diego King. In her grief and loneliness, she was less cautious than she should have been. Within three months, she was pregnant with Ripley and married to a near-stranger. The marriage had lasted only three years, but that was enough time to add a second child. Diego had named his daughter after Kelly’s and his first initials, then promptly left. Kelly heard from him from time to time, but he had no contact with the children and gave no support, in spite of a court order.

In the twelve years since their split, Kelly had moved several times to get work and support her children. Her son always took this hard, but her daughter adapted almost at once. The move to Baltimore, where she and Dan had met, had been particularly trying. Ripley was twelve years old at the time and had desperately wanted to stay near his friends. For months, he was hostile and angry, pushing away anyone who tried to talk to him. Eventually, he began to fall in with the kids who behaved in the same way – with predictable results. Despite Kelly’s best efforts, Ripley had gone further and further down that path.

The low point had come only a few weeks after Dan had asked Kelly to marry him. Walking past Ripley in the hallway one day, he had caught a whiff of sweet-smelling smoke in the boy’s clothes. He had tipped Kelly off that her son had been in the vicinity of someone smoking illegal substances and she responded by confronting Ripley. She had been so angry that she actually yelled at him – such a rare occurrence that it was used by Kaydee as a point of reference.

From that point, Kelly had been determined to give her son the best chance and that the way to do this would be to separate him from his current environment. Dan had told her about his years in Sleepyside and the second chance that had given him. She had suggested that they begin their married life by moving there. After a certain amount of discussion, Dan and Kaydee had agreed to the plan. Ripley was every bit as hostile to moving as he had ever been. Further, he had become hostile to Dan.

“I want him to be happy,” Kelly murmured. “I want both of them to be happy.”

Dan gave her another squeeze. “He has to choose that for himself. We’ll talk it through with Jim again, though. He’s bound to have some ideas that will help, especially once he gets to know Ripley a little.”

Kelly nodded. “Will you set something up?”

“I was planning to.” Dan pulled back and looked her in the face, not surprised to see tear-tracks. “I’m here for you, you know. We’ll get through it together.”

The following Saturday dawned bright and clear and for that Dan was glad. He had arranged to meet several of his old friends and their families down at the Wheeler lake for a barbecue. The September day should be warm enough for swimming, for those so inclined. Before that, Kaydee had been invited to the Frayne place for an early morning horse-riding lesson. He knew that she was excited about this and he was glad for her that the weather was cooperating.

He suppressed a sigh, however, as he came down the stairs for breakfast and heard an argument in progress.

“I’m not going!” Ripley was yelling. There was a pause, in which Dan assumed Kelly answered in a regular voice, then the teenager continued his rant. “Well, you can’t. I’m not going, no matter what you say or do.”

As Dan entered the kitchen, Kelly’s response became audible. She was trying to reason with Ripley, but his body language told clearly that it was not working.

“We can just lock up the house and go,” Dan suggested. “I don’t think he can get up to too much trouble outside the house. We’ll only be gone for five or six hours, Kelly. He’ll be okay on the porch.”

“Are you going to leave me a bowl of water, like I’m a dog?” Ripley asked, sneering at Dan.

“Good idea,” Dan answered. “I’ll make a note.”

“Or, you could come with us like we planned,” Kelly suggested, sounding exasperated. “Please, Ripley. We’re not moving back, so you might as well make the most of your time here.”

“I. Don’t. Want. To. Go.” The teenager scowled at his mother, arms crossed tight over his chest.

Kelly looked away. “Fine. But we’re not leaving you here alone. You have a choice: either you come with us to the barbecue, or you go to the library to study – and I mean that you’ll actually study while you’re there.”

“Library.” Ripley did not hesitate.

“Okay. We’ll drop you there on our way and we’ll pick you up afterwards.” She went on to set a time and a few other conditions, including one that he not leave the building. “Deal?”

“Deal,” the boy replied.

Hours later, Dan and Kelly relaxed in the shade with the other adults, while kids and teenagers splashed in the lake or played games. In spite of a wide range of ages, all of the younger generation seemed to be getting on well together. Kaydee fitted into the group as if she had always been there.

“She looks like she’s having a good time,” Jim commented, following Dan’s gaze. They were sitting a little way from the others and could talk without being overheard by anyone but Kelly. If Dan had thought about it, he might have wondered if Kelly had orchestrated this.

Dan nodded in reply. “She’s like her mother – happy wherever she is and easy to get along with.”

“But things are different for Ripley.” Jim’s statement of fact drew a sigh from Dan.

“He’s using the same coping strategies that he did before and it’s going to have the same result, if we can’t get him to change.” Dan shrugged. “I have no influence on him, except in a negative way, and he’s not listening to Kelly. He’s angry with everyone and everything.”

“Sound at all familiar?” Jim asked with a wry smile.

Dan nodded. “Oh, yeah. But it doesn’t help me find a way out of this.”

“Did anyone find your way out of your situation for you?” Jim asked.

Dan frowned at his friend. “Okay, I see you point. It has to come from him. I feel bad about my part in making things worse, though. I want to…”

“Assuage your own guilt?” Jim suggested. Seeing Dan’s angry look, he hurried to elaborate. “I’m sure you have other motivations, but realistically, what can you do? He doesn’t trust you, so you can’t directly help him. You’re already doing everything you can do.”

“I was afraid you’d say something like that,” Dan grumbled. “You were supposed to know what to do to help.”

Jim’s gaze took in his own family, scattered around the area. Trixie was talking and laughing with the other women; their twelve-year-old daughter Melissa was the only biological child they would ever have, but since her birth they had adopted three boys. Ten years after the first adoption, that of two brothers, their eldest were now aged seventeen and eighteen. The newest addition to the family was a five-year-old, who had been with them for just over six months.

“I’m not sure that my experience is all that relevant to your situation,” Jim answered, at length. “All of our boys were younger than that when they came to us.”

Dan looked out to the lake, where the teenage boys were having a water fight. Jim’s two were teamed up against Brian’s two step-sons. That situation did not offer a source of advice, either, as Brian had always gotten on well with the pair, who were both well-behaved and academically gifted.

Thinking it over, Dan realised that his situation was unique among the Bob-Whites. Jim and Trixie seemed to have always known that they belonged together and had married young. For the others, relationships had come and gone before they each found the one for them. Honey had met and married an Irishman and divided her time between Ireland and New York. She, her husband and their pre-teen children were in Ireland and thus missing from the gathering. Brian had a failed marriage behind him, as had his current wife, a fellow doctor. They lived in a constant state of change, where their respective children moved back and forth between parents. In the case of Mart and Diana, they had spent a number of years apart before resuming their high school sweetheart status. They had been married five years and had two small children.

Dan was the last of the group to marry, the only one to have no children of his own and the only one to deal with hostility at home. As soon as he had the last thought, however, he remembered Brian’s first wife and qualified the statement to exclude that situation. Still, he was in uncharted territory and it worried him.

“What are you doing, looking so gloomy?” Trixie asked, dropping down next to them and giving Dan a jolt.

He shrugged. “Maybe it’s because nobody’s given me any cake.”

“And you’re looking to me to provide for you?” she asked, laughing. “Not likely.”

Dan smiled and let his troubles leave his mind.

As they pulled up outside the library, Ripley walked out of the front door and down the steps. He wore his customary sullen expression, but did not cause any trouble. At home, he went up to his room at once, not speaking to anyone.

Kelly noticed that there was a message on the answering machine and pressed the button to play it. At the first words of the message, Dan stopped short and listened.

“Mr. and Mrs. Mangan, this is Ann Robbins.” The voice that spoke sounded little like the woman Dan had met only days before, so extreme was her distress. “I am terribly sorry, but I will have to cancel your daughter’s next piano lesson. My house has been broken into and vandalised and I have a lot of cleaning up to do and repairs to oversee. I’m terribly sorry.”

Dan and Kelly met glances, but it was Kelly who spoke. “And I thought this was a nice neighbourhood.”

“As far as I know, it usually is,” Dan replied.

Their discussion was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. Kelly waved to Dan to answer, saying, “It’s probably for you anyway.”

Dan picked up the phone and greeted the caller.

“I was hoping to catch you,” a female voice told him. “It’s Ruthie Sinclair here – I used to be Ruthie Kettner. I’m not sure if you’d remember me…”

“Yes, of course I do, Ruthie. How are you?”

For a few moments, they exchanged pleasantries, before Ruthie came to the point. “I hope you won’t think I’m butting in where I don’t belong, but there was something I thought you should know. You see, I work at the Sleepyside Public Library and something strange happened there today.”

Dan suppressed a groan. “What did he do?”

“Nothing,” Ruthie was quick to assure him. “It wasn’t anything bad, just strange. I saw a boy come in and he just stood, out of sight of the door, for about five minutes, not even looking at the books. Then, he kind of peeked out for a minute or two, then he left. I didn’t recognise him, so I asked one of my regular customers if she knew and she told me he was your step-son. A few hours later, he came back and did the same thing. I thought, maybe, you might like to know.”

“Thank you, Ruthie. That’s really helpful.”

There was a short pause. “I won’t say anything to anyone, Dan. I know what it’s like, trying to deal with teenagers.”

“Thanks,” he repeated.

They said their good-byes and he set down the receiver.

“What has he done?” Kelly demanded. “And, who was that?”

“Girl I went to school with, who’s now the librarian,” Dan explained, then repeated what Ruthie had told him. “She’s never met him before, so there’s no guarantee that it was actually him, but it sounds rather like it was.”

Kelly stared at him in dismay for several moments, then her expression changed. “Do you know people everywhere around here? Is this what it’s going to be like?”

Dan shrugged. “I know quite a lot of people. I wouldn’t say they’re everywhere.”

She sighed. “At least we’ll know where the kids are, if the Sleepyside rumour mill is going to follow them everywhere.”

“It’s better than the alternative,” he answered.

Less than an hour later, their peace was once again disturbed by a knock at the door. Dan felt a wave of foreboding as he answered it to find a pair of police officers that he did not know.

“Evening, officers,” he greeted.

“Is this the residence of Ripley Willis?” one of them enquired.

“It is.” Dan thought it wise to give no more away.

“Is he here?”

Dan glanced over his shoulder, to where Kelly was watching. “I believe so.”

“We’d like to speak with him, please.” The second officer was younger and, Dan thought, probably new. “Could you bring him here?”

Once more, Dan glanced at Kelly and nodded for her to fetch Ripley. Neither he, nor the officers spoke while they waited. A few moments passed before they heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Dan took a quick look and saw defiance on Ripley’s face and a mixture of emotions on Kelly’s. He could see that she was frightened, upset and a little angry.

“Ripley Willis? We would like to take you in for questioning in connection with–”

“What?” the boy interrupted. “But I didn’t do anything! What’s this about?”

“We are making enquiries pertinent to a current investigation. Now, would you please come with us?” the officer concluded, untroubled by the interruption.

Dan knew intimidation tactics when he saw them and objected at once. “I don’t think that will be necessary. You can use this room, here. And, of course, he can have an adult with him, can’t he?”

The older officer spent a moment sizing up the situation, then nodded. “Yes, I think that will be suitable.”

With a grim sense of satisfaction at that small victory, Dan ushered the two into one of the front rooms, which would one day be an office. At this point, it held a small table, a few chairs and a number of boxes waiting to be unpacked. Dan dragged the table into the middle of the room and set two chairs out for the police, indicating for them to sit down. He went to the dining room brought back two more chairs. Ripley hovered near one of them, but did not sit down.

“Who are you going to have with you?” the younger officer asked in a kind voice.

Ripley glanced from his mother to Dan and back again. Dan could see the resignation on Kelly’s face, as well as the fear of what was about to happen. A moment later, Ripley pointed at Dan.

“You,” he decided.

Dan and Kelly shared a look, then Kelly left, closing the door behind herself. Ripley and Dan sat down across from the two officers and after Ripley was read his rights – at Dan’s insistence – the questioning began.

“Where were you at two pm this afternoon?”

Ripley gulped and glanced at Dan. “Uh… at two? I don’t really know. I didn’t look at the time.”

“Try a little harder to remember,” the older officer suggested gruffly. “Start earlier. Where were you?”

Once more, Ripley glanced at Dan, whose expression had not changed. “Uh, well, Mom dropped me at the library at… uh, a quarter to ten, I think. I…”

“Left,” Dan prompted. “Your mother and I knew that already.”

From that point, the words seemed to come more easily for Ripley. “Yeah, I left. I walked around for a while, then I kind of got a bit lost. I tried to find my way back for a while, but it was kind of hot, so I found somewhere to sit in the shade.”

“And where was this?”

“I don’t know! I was lost, okay?”

Dan risked placing a hand on the boy’s arm, not knowing whether it would calm or rile him. To his relief, Ripley seemed to gain a little more control of himself.

“So, you were sitting somewhere completely unknown, with no idea where you were. What happened next?”

The boy shrugged. “I sat there for a while, then when I got up, I saw a street sign and the name looked kind of familiar – Herbert or Howard or something like that – and I started walking again and I found my way back to the library.”

“And what time was this?”

Ripley frowned. “Uh, about three-fifteen, I think. Mom was going to pick me up at three-thirty and I know I was already there when she arrived.”

“Did you see anyone while you were walking around in completely unknown locations?” the older officer asked.

“It wasn’t completely unknown,” the boy objected. “It was somewhere in Sleepyside. I think I’d know if I’d walked all the way out of town.”

“Did you see anyone?” the man repeated, more sternly.

Ripley thought for a moment. “Maybe a few people. Most of them I’d never seen before. There were a couple of boys from school playing basketball, but I don’t think they saw me.”

“Where was that?”

“Just before I sat down under the tree. They were out the back of one of the houses.”

“Their names?”

Dan could see the predatory glint in the older officer’s eyes and knew that whatever came next was going to be bad.

“One of them’s called Josh, I think. He’s in my algebra class. The other’s called Rich Hausmann.”

With a sinking feeling, Dan glanced at the older man’s nametag and saw that his surname was Hausmann.

“You saw them playing basketball?” There was a hint in the man’s expression that the trap was set. “You’re sure about that?”

Ripley must have seen the danger, as he hesitated. “I think so. I’m not sure.”

“Did you, or didn’t you?” Hausmann goaded.

“I’m not sure,” the boy hedged. “They had a basketball. I heard it hitting against something. I don’t remember if they were playing when I saw them, though.”

Relief surged through Dan, but Hausmann grunted in dissatisfaction. Before they had time to relax, however, he asked, “Where was the tree?”

“What tree?” Ripley looked confused and Dan knew at once that the officer’s next attempt at tripping him up had probably failed as well.

“The tree you sat under just after this.”

“Oh. I don’t know. Not far from there. Maybe two or three minutes’ walk.”

Hausmann sat and glared at the boy for more than a minute.

“Is that all?” asked Dan, seeing that no more questions were forthcoming.

“For now,” Hausmann replied.

Leaving Ripley sitting where he was, Dan ushered the officers out of the house and closed the door. Turning back, he saw his step-son slumped over with his head in his hands. He was a picture of hopelessness and it went to Dan’s heart.

“Are they gone?” Kelly asked, appearing around a corner.

Dan nodded, but did not speak. He was busy thinking through their options.

“I don’t even know what they think I’ve done,” Ripley moaned, his voice muffled by his posture. “They’re sure it’s me and I don’t know anything about it.”

“Sweetheart, I’m sure it will be okay,” Kelly soothed, rushing over to him and rubbing his back like he was a small child. “We’ll help you, I promise.”

“How can you? That man’s sure it was me.”

Kelly gave Dan an imploring look, which he could not ignore.

“Seems to me,” he explained slowly, “that he didn’t have any direct evidence. He was looking to trip you up over the details of your story. No matter what his suspicions, he still needs to have proof before he can go anywhere with them.”

“That won’t stop him from bothering me, over and over again.”

Dan nodded. “True. That’s why I think we need to call in some outside help.”

Ripley looked hostile to this idea. “You mean, a lawyer.”

Smiling, Dan shook his head. “I mean a private detective, and I know just the one for the job. How about if I make a call?”

There was scepticism on Ripley’s face, but he looked from his mother to Dan, gauging their expressions, and nodded once.

Dan went to the phone and dialled a familiar number. “Trix? I think we need your help.”

Twenty minutes later, soft tapping on the back door alerted them to a visitor. Dan opened the door and allowed Trixie inside. She looked more than pleased with herself.

“May I ask why you chose to come this way?” Dan enquired in amusement, as he led her into the kitchen, which was empty.

Trixie’s mouth twisted into a smirk. “Sleepyside’s finest – and I use that term in its loosest possible meaning – are staking out the front. It’s Hausmann, isn’t it? And that little boy playing dress-up.”

“That’s not a very respectful way to speak about officers of the law.” Dan’s stern expression as he said this made Trixie dissolve into laughter.

“Not every officer of the law is as upstanding as you were in your law enforcement days,” she explained. “Not that you’re not upstanding now, you understand.”

“I’m not feeling very upstanding,” Dan answered. “In fact, I’d like to sit down. You want some coffee? Something stronger?”

She shook her head. “Let me hear the details before I turn to the hard liquor.”

“Have some coffee, then,” he answered, pouring a cup for each of them and preparing hers just as she liked it. “I think this is going to take a while.”

“So, where’s Ripley? I’d like to speak to him first, if he’ll agree to it.”

“In the living room, with his mother. It’s hit him pretty hard.”

Trixie paused, looking serious. “Before we go in there, I think it’s better if I tell you the truth. You remember my troubles with Sergeant Molinson? Well my troubles with Hausmann are a hundred times worse. Molinson’s a decent person and he was a good cop. Hausmann’s neither, but he keeps up the image. I know he’s crooked, but I can’t prove it.”

“He’s no good at setting traps, either,” Dan added. “Even Ripley saw them and kept out.”

Trixie shook her head in disgust and picked up her mug. “So, let’s get started. Lead the way.”

Dan took her into the living room, which was beginning to look put-together, and waved Trixie to a seat.

“Ripley, you remember Trixie Frayne, don’t you? She’s come to help you.” He turned to his step-daughter, who was also sitting nearby. “Kaydee, why don’t you go and find something else to do. I think this will be pretty dull.”

At once, she turned to her mother. “But Mom! I wanted to stay and listen. You’ll let me stay, won’t you?”

Kelly shook her head. “No, I think it’s better if you go, sweetheart. How about if you go up to your room? I’ll let you know when you can come back down.” When Kaydee had stomped out of the room, up the stairs and slammed her door, Kelly turned to her son. “Would this be easier if Dan or I, or both of us, left too?”

At this, Ripley looked alarmed. “No. You both stay, okay?”

A small smile quivered on Kelly’s lips and she nodded. Taking a seat opposite Ripley, she turned her attention to Trixie.

“Can we start by going over your movements for the day, please?” Trixie asked, looking at Ripley. “With as much detail as you can manage, okay?”

Ripley frowned. “I don’t see how this helps.”

“Humour me,” Trixie answered. “You were dropped off at the library…”

The boy sighed. “I didn’t want to be in the library, so I waited until Mom was gone and I walked out. I didn’t know where to go, so I kind of wandered around, only then I got lost, so I sat under a tree for a while, then I walked some more and found my way back. Then I went back in the library in time to come out and get picked up again by Mom. And that’s it.”

Trixie looked at him for a while, then spoke. “I need details. Do you have any idea where you went?”

He shook his head. “Not really. I don’t know my way around. Everywhere looks kind of the same, you know?”

“The same as where? Here?” Trixie started rummaging in her backpack and pulled out a map. “Let’s see if we can find out where you were. You started here, at the library. Which way did you turn?”

“Uh… I went across the street and turned right. That’s where that diner is, right? I passed it on the other side of the street and I turned left at the next corner. I’m not sure, after that.”

“So, over here, somewhere,” Trixie mused, pointing to an area on the map. “Streets with houses in them, right? Can you describe the place where you sat down?”

“Maybe you should hear what Hausmann questioned him about first,” Dan suggested. “It has a bearing on this.”

At Trixie’s nod, Dan and Ripley together related as much as they could of the interview. Trixie listened intently, making an occasional note.

“So, you came across a place where you could hear someone playing with a basketball,” she recapped. “You may, or may not have seen them…”

“I saw them,” he admitted. “I saw them when I walked through the yard of the next house. I didn’t see them until I was half-way across.”

“Okay, so you saw them as you walked across a yard. What did the house look like? What did the one look like where the other boys were?”

For a moment, Ripley thought. “I don’t know. They were ordinary houses.” As Trixie waited, an expectant expression on her face, he elaborated. “The one where they were was kind of messy-looking. The garden was overgrown and the grass was kind of long. The one where I was… it was really, really neat. There were white flowers growing. The house was white, too.”

Dan felt a jolt as he began to put things together. “Daisies?” he asked. “The flowers, were they daisies?”

Ripley looked at him as if he had gone mad. “How am I supposed to know?”

“White petals around the outside and yellow fuzzy stuff in the middle. Is that right?” Dan waited while Ripley thought.

“Yeah. I guess.”

Trixie turned to Dan. “Do you think you know this place? I’ve got an idea, but I’d like some confirmation.”

He nodded. “It sounds like Kaydee’s piano teacher’s house… and she left a message on the machine earlier, saying she’d been broken into and the place vandalised. It’s right about here.” He pointed to a spot on the map and gave the exact address from memory.

After looking at the map, Trixie pulled out her phone and brought up the photo gallery. “I have some pictures of houses that I took earlier. Is this the one? Or this one? Or this?” The boy shook his head each time. “Or this?”

“That’s it. That’s the house. The other boys were over on this side.” He pointed to the left of the screen. “I walked down the other side. I didn’t see them until I was nearly at the back fence. I went faster and kind of hoped they didn’t see me. The tree was in the back yard of the house behind and I sat there until they went away.”

For a long moment, Trixie said nothing, but sat deep in thought. “So, those two boys see you in the yard of the piano teacher’s house….” She paused. “Ripley, why did you know Rich Hausmann’s full name, but the boy who was actually in one of your classes you could only identify as maybe being called Josh?”

The teenager scowled and looked away. “No reason.”

“What happened?” she asked, gently.

“He thinks he’s so important,” Ripley ranted, all of a sudden. “He thinks he can get away with anything, that he can do what he likes. He thinks everyone else should listen to him, and if he doesn’t like someone then no one should.”

“What does he do, if other people don’t agree with him?” Trixie’s voice was still gentle. “Do you know?”

Ripley shrugged. “He’s a bully. He threatens people. He snitches their things, when there’s no chance of getting caught, and hides them. He hurts people, but not enough to leave a mark. Stuff like that.”

“Did he do any of those things to you?”

Once more, he shrugged. “He threatened me, but I wasn’t scared. I hate it here anyway; he can’t make it any worse. That’s what I thought, back then. Now I’m not so sure.”

The corners of Trixie’s mouth curved upward. “He’s got me to deal with, now. He won’t find it so easy as he thought.”

Ripley looked sceptical. “What are you going to do about it?”

She became thoughtful. “It’s going to be tricky, but I can see a few ways forward. There’s just a couple more things I need to find out before we can proceed, but I won’t find them here.”

“You mean, you’re going?” the boy asked, incredulous. “You’re just going to leave me here?”

Trixie stood up, taking her empty coffee cup with her. “You’ll be fine. Just stay in the house for the moment. I’m going to see what else I can get and I’ll be back sometime, maybe later tonight or maybe tomorrow. I’ll let myself out. See you all later.”

“Stay in the house,” Ripley muttered. “You’ll be fine. What sort of help is that?”

“If anyone can get you out of this before it really starts, it will be Trixie,” Dan assured him. “She’s really good at what she does.”

“You let her leave,” the teenager accused. “How does that help?”

Dan looked at Ripley carefully and noted the fear beneath his outburst. “You saw her. She’s far too little to defend you against even one of those cops if they decided to haul your ass away. She can, on the other hand, dig around and get some evidence that will save you from being framed.”

“I’m being framed,” Ripley repeated in a low voice. “You think that’s what’s happening?”

“That’s what it looks like to me. I can see three possible scenarios. One: Rich Hausmann and his friend see you by yourself, wait until you’re gone and go and do the vandalism themselves with a view to framing you for it. Two: They see you, they also see the vandal and decide to put the blame on you instead. Three: They see you, they don’t see the vandal, they decide to put the blame on you.”

Kelly spoke up for the first time in quite a while. “Which do you think most likely, Dan?”

He gave a grim smile. “Oh, my money would be on option number one.”

Ripley stared at him. “You think they did it?”

Dan nodded. “I think that’s the way Trix was thinking, too. It’s going to be hard to prove, though, because any evidence that might have been there has probably been destroyed by Daddy dearest.”

At this pronouncement, the teenager’s shoulders slumped. “There’s no way out of this.”

“Don’t lose hope now,” Dan told him. “Give Trixie some time and see what she comes up with. You might be surprised.”

“I think I’ll go up to my room,” the boy muttered, slouching off without looking at either Kelly or Dan.

“At least he’s forgotten to be hostile to you,” Kelly murmured, as she moved closer to Dan.

Dan pulled her closer still and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Yeah, that’s a good thing. Not sure it will last once the crisis is over, but for now I’ll take what I can get.”

Trixie did not return until the next morning. This time, she came to the front door.

“What, no clandestine entrance this time?” Dan asked, by way of greeting.

She grinned. “No point. They got bored and went home not long after I left last night. Hausmann was still in bed when I went past his place five minutes ago.”

“Do I want to know how you know that?” Dan asked, as they walked through the house.

Trixie pursed her lips for a moment, then laughed. “Maybe not. Anyway, he’s out of the way for another couple of hours, at least. I thought you might like to know what I’ve found out.”

He nodded. “Do you want Kelly and Ripley in on this, or is it just between you and me?”

She considered for a moment. “Let’s start with just us.”

They sat down in the living room, which was unoccupied.

“I’ll start with the bad news.” Trixie kept her voice lowered, in case someone else was nearby. “My contact inside the station confirms that this is to do with the break and enter at Ann Robbins’ house and that there’s no evidence to connect that little toad – Hausmann junior, I mean – to the vandalism. Opinion at the station is that Hausmann senior has covered it up.”

“I expected as much,” Dan answered. “And I warned Ripley and Kelly to expect it. Of course, I also let them think there’s a possibility that the Hausmann boy wasn’t responsible, but thought it was a good idea to put the blame on Ripley. I don’t think that’s likely, though. Do you?”

“Oh, I have enough that I’m certain the Hausmann boy did do the vandalism. Only trouble is, it’s not admissible in court.”

Dan shook his head. “Not going to ask.”

“Not going to tell you, even if you do.” She smiled. “Now, the good news is that everything else about Ripley’s story checks out – and I have a witness who can place Ripley away from the house at the time the vandalism was occurring.”

“Conclusively?”

“I think so. She lives over the back fence from Ann Robbins, in Hewett Street. She’s the one who called the police to report the break-in. While she was still hearing the sounds of things breaking through her back window, she saw Ripley through the front window. She said that he was standing on the side of the street, looking around, like he was lost.” She frowned. “She also told me that when the police came and questioned her, she told them about seeing Ripley in the opposite direction. My police contact has checked, though, and it doesn’t appear in the case notes.”

“She didn’t see anything of the perpetrators?”

Trixie shook her head. “It was her tree that he sat under and it blocks most of the view. The branches hang down so low that they meet the bushes growing up underneath it, and she can’t see anything of Ann Robbins’ house from inside her house.”

“You got anything else?”

She shrugged. “I’ve got some pretty good witnesses who’ll swear that Rich Hausmann is a liar and a bully. I’m pretty sure that if this goes to court we could discredit all of the evidence. I want to stop it before it goes that far, though.”

“So do I. You have a plan?”

“You mean, like get Hausmann senior discredited, charged with something and hauled off to jail?” She took a moment to contemplate that scenario. “I wish I could.”

He smiled. “I think I’m getting to dislike him almost as much as you do, but I was actually thinking of getting Ripley out of trouble, not Hausmann into it.”

“It would kill multiple birds with one stone,” she argued. “If I could bring him down, my life would be so much easier.”

“No evidence, Trix. We don’t have anything to build on here.”

“Nothing admissible, no. That’s always been the problem. He’s too careful.”

He frowned. “So, how about if we attack the weakest point, instead of the strongest one? We need to go after Hausmann junior. Is there likely to be any evidence that he might have hidden somewhere?”

“There’s one thing.” She glanced around to see that no one was listening, then dropped her voice even lower. “They haven’t made this public, and Ann Robbins was told not to tell anyone, but there was blue spray paint used inside the house. The can wasn’t at the scene. I’m kind of wondering if the reason she was told not to tell was that maybe Hausmann thought there might be evidence inside his place and he wanted time to dispose of it while no one knew to look for it.”

Dan frowned more deeply. “He’s had that time, now.”

Her expression altered to include an element of glee. “I maybe just might have done something about that.”

“You going to tell me?”

She appeared to consider for a moment, but Dan knew that she was only pretending. “I might just have made an anonymous call–”

“To your contact, who knew exactly who you were,” he interjected.

“–and told the police that I thought I saw someone suspicious go into Hausmann’s garage yesterday.”

“Trixie!”

“Which is absolutely true,” she added, unruffled by his condemnation of her actions. “After I left here, I staked out his place – and he never had any clue that I was there. I saw Hausmann senior come home. He went into the house and stayed there for about ten minutes, then I saw him go out the back door, across the yard and into the garage, peering over his shoulder all the time and acting about as suspicious as you can get. And he was holding a bundle of something.”

“So, what’s happening now?”

“Well,” she began, drawing out the word to its maximum potential, “a couple of officers have gone down there and politely asked Mrs. Hausmann if they could just check the garage, since there was a report of suspicious activity there and she insisted that they look very carefully. She’s a very nervous woman, since her husband is pretty unpopular in some circles – you know, people who’ve met him, or heard of him.”

“You think it’s going to be enough?”

She sobered. “I don’t know. I’m hoping they’ll find something, but I think we need to be prepared for the alternative.” She smiled, then, and patted his arm. “I’m working on that, too. I know we can get him out of this.”

They fell into silence, which was broken by a knock at the front door. Dan rose to answer it and saw Trixie slip away into the kitchen as he did so. He opened the door to find two different police officers from the last time, a man and a woman.

“Mr. Mangan?” the man asked.

“Yes.”

“We’d like to speak to your step-son for a few minutes. We have some additional questions for him.”

“Please, come in. I’ll fetch him.” Dan ushered them into the same room he had used the previous time and headed for the stairs. He was less than half-way up when he saw Ripley. “They want to speak to you. Are you okay?”

The boy nodded and came down the stairs. Dan guided him to a chair and sat down next to him.

“Ripley Willis?” The officer who spoke was a fair-haired man in, perhaps, his forties. “I’m Sergeant Davis and this is Officer Lindberg. We’d like to ask you about some things you saw yesterday.”

Ripley nodded and glanced at Dan.

“From the notes of your interview yesterday, we understand that you saw Richard Hausmann junior and another boy somewhere near this house.” He pushed a photograph of Ann Robbins’ house across the table. “Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where were you standing when you saw them?” As alarm sprang up on Ripley’s face, he added, “There’s no question of trespassing charges. We just need the truth.”

“Uh, I was in the yard of this house.” Ripley pointed to the picture. “I couldn’t see anyone around until I got about half-way across the yard.”

“Can you describe the two boys? What were they wearing?”

Ripley paused for a moment. “Rich was wearing a T-shirt and shorts. Josh had jeans on.”

“I think they want a bit more detail,” Dan prompted, smiling.

“Oh. Josh’s shirt was black and it had a Harley Davidson logo on the front and his jeans were really pale and worn and they had a hole in one knee. Rich had a kind of orange-y brownish shirt on, with words on it, and dark green shorts, like you’d wear to play basketball.”

“Did you read the writing on the shirt?” Sergeant Davis asked. “Do you remember what it said?”

“Uh, yeah. It said, ‘I am the greatest.’” There was the hint of a sneer in Ripley’s voice.

“Well, I think that’s all we need for the moment. Thank you both for your time.” Sergeant Davis stood up and his colleague followed suit. “We will be in touch if we need anything further.”

Within a minute, they had departed, leaving Ripley standing near the front door, deep in thought.

“You okay?” Dan asked.

The boy nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

“You need anything?”

Ripley looked up. “Why were they different from the last two?”

Dan considered his answer for a moment. “You know what a conflict of interest is?” At Ripley’s nod, he continued. “You think Hausmann should have been allowed to keep investigating, when his own son seems to be involved? He should never have been working on it in the first place. It’s for the best that he seems to have been taken off the case. It’s definitely for the best for you.”

There was a pause as Ripley digested this. At length, he responded, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Dan clapped him on the shoulder and began to walk away.

“Wait!”

Turning, he saw embarrassment on Ripley’s face and another emotion that he could not quite place. He did not speak, but waited to see what his step-son was going to say.

“You took care of things, even though I hated you. Why was that?”

Dan took his time in putting his answer into words. “Several reasons. One, I love your mother and want the best for her. Two, I’m committed to making us a family. Three, I can’t help but see similarities between you and me. Four, I would rather see justice done than injustice. Is that enough?”

“Why do you think I’m like you?” A trace of the hostility returned, but nothing like what it had been before. “You’re an ex-cop. You didn’t ever do anything really bad, or they wouldn’t have let you in.”

“My juvenile record is sealed,” he explained. “It takes some doing to look at a sealed record, and I’ve been clean since I came to Sleepyside the first time.”

“What did you do?”

Dan looked away. “A lot of things I’m ashamed of now.” He caught the frown that Ripley was directing his way and elaborated. “You wanted to know what was in the record, or what I did that I got away with?”

“Either. Both. I’m not a little kid; I can handle knowing.”

“I’m sure you can,” Dan answered, “but can you handle not telling? Very few people know the details and I want to keep it that way.”

“Does Mom know?”

Dan nodded. “Of course. I think my story gave her hope that you might be okay.”

“You ever get framed for something?”

Once more, Dan nodded. “I did. Trixie got me out of it… eventually. She’s improved since then.” He sighed. “I lied, I cheated, I stole. I drank and used drugs – which is how I knew that smell, not because I used to be a cop. A few times, I mugged someone. And, one time, I went through a dead man’s pockets and stole his valuables.”

“Is that it?”

“Mostly. Call it a summary.”

Ripley thought about what he had heard for a few moments. “It’s a lot worse than what I did, isn’t it?”

“Your situation is a whole lot better than mine was. You have a mother who loves you and is desperately trying to help you. My mother was dead – both of my parents – and I did what I needed to, just to survive and to fit in with the people I was living with.” Dan weighed his next words. “I think you’re going to make it out of this situation without too many consequences. After that, the choice is yours.”

A silence followed, as Ripley thought. “Thanks, Dan. For everything.”

Dan smiled and left him to his thoughts.

“You’ll never believe it,” Trixie ranted, as Dan let her into the house the next morning. “He’s still hanging around. I’m never going to be rid of him!”

“Good morning, Trixie. How are you today?” Dan asked, pretending to be cheerful.

“Are you not paying attention? I’m furious!” she replied. “In spite of everything, Hausmann is staying.”

“What everything?” Dan caught her by the arm to stop her agitated movements. “How about if you pick up at the point where I last spoke to you?”

She huffed in indignation and shook her arm free, but stayed still. “My police contact tells me that their search yielded a T-shirt, stained with blue spray paint and matching the description of the one worn by the devil’s spawn – otherwise known as Rich Hausmann – that was given to them by Ripley. Then, after they let the information out that blue spray paint was involved, Josh’s mother dragged him and his ruined clothes down to the station and handed them over. When they interviewed him, Josh pretty much spilled his guts. They charged both him and Rich Hausmann. Then, when Mrs. Hausmann heard the whole story, she packed her bags and she’s moving back to wherever she came from and will be taking her son with her – when they let her. But Hausmann is not going. He’s staying here! Can you believe it?”

Dan thought about it for a few moments. “You can’t solve all the world’s problems, Trix.” He held a hand up to stem the flow of the tirade she was about to begin. “You’ve solved quite a few in the last couple of days. How about if you be happy about that?”

Rebellion and satisfaction warred on her face, then she looked away. “Things are better for you, because of this, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly. “They are.”

“Okay, I will overlook the fact that that man is still sticking around. Other than that one, horrible point, I will judge this a success.”

“Good.” He pulled her into a hug. “Thank you so much for your help.”

“You’re welcome,” she answered. “Now, where would you like me to send the bill?”

The End