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spot Tom coming or going. His car might break down in the driveway, immovable, stuck there till Mom and Dad showed up. An earthquake might hit, trapping Tom in the house with her. 'Or caving in our beans,' she said, and chuckled. 'Screw it, call him up.' |
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She rubbed her clammy hands on her sweatpants. She took a deep breath. Then she reached for the phone and its sudden clamor rammed her breath out. |
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It's Tom, she thought. He must be psychic. |
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She lifted the receiver. 'Hello?' |
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Not him. A woman's voice, vaguely familiar. 'Yes, it is.' |
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'This is Lynn Foxworth. You sat for us a few months ago?' |
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'Sure.' Oh, no, she thought. But she forced herself to sound cheery as she said, 'Kara's mother.' |
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'I really hate to bother you with this, it's such short notice. I just feel horrible, even asking. And please, if you already have plans for tonight, that's fine, maybe you can suggest someone else. But we're in an awful bind. We have seven o'clock dinner reservations, and I just this minute got off the phone with Francine Walters. Lisa's mom? Lisa - it was all arranged for her to sit for us, but, I don't know, Francine was awfully upset. It seems she just found out that Lisa was with that murdered boy last night. There was a dance after the game? Anyway, Lisa apparently has some idea about who did it, and Francine's rushing her right over to the police department. Apparently she's afraid that, you know, somebody might try |
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