"I wish I could," he said with a frown, "but I've already made other plans. How about a rain check? I'm free tomorrow night."

Whatever I'd seen in Marshall's face earlier was probably reflected on mine just then. Logic told me that Jawarski wasn't brushing me off, but all those old insecurities made my stomach ache. "Yeah. Sure. Tomorrow's great." Tell him, the voice inside my head whispered, but I convinced myself this wasn't the right time or the right place. "I have practice until six, so do you want to just meet there at about eight?"

"Eight's fine." Jawarski took a look at my face and put a hand on my arm. "What I've got going tonight isn't really important. If you want me to cancel, I will."

I shook my head quickly, wishing I could appreciate the offer but just feeling a whole lot more guilty. "No, don't be ridiculous. We can go tomorrow."

"You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," I snapped. Immediately, I wanted to take the words back, but that's the thing about words: They last forever. I forced a smile and wished I could crawl into a hole and disappear. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get hostile or anything. I'm just a little confused right now, and I'm trying really hard to figure out what I'm feeling."

"Because of Stephanie?"

It would have been easy to say yes and let it go, but I knew that Jawarski and I wouldn't stand a chance if I did that. I shook my head and turned to look at him. "Partly, I guess. I've spent the past year convincing myself that you and I are friends-good friends, but still just friends. But friends don't get jealous the way I did when I walked down that hall."

Jawarski gave that smile that always makes my heart flutter a little. "I'd like to think we're more than friends, but I know you're nervous about moving ahead, and I'm not going to pressure you. You know that, don't you?"

I nodded and felt my courage fail me again. What was wrong with me? Why was I such a coward? "It's not just that," I said, pushing through my hesitation. "Marshall Ames came to see me yesterday. He said he was just checking to make sure that I was okay-you know, since we found the body together and everything."

Jawarski didn't say a word, he just waited patiently for me to spill my guts.

"Anyway, we talked for a while, and he did what you always do. He told me to stay out of the investigation, warned me about staying safe . . . you know, all that stuff."

"It's a lost cause. Should I warn him?"

The joke made me feel even worse. "The bottom line is, he kissed me," I blurted. "I didn't expect it to happen, and I didn't ask for it to happen, but he did, and I thought you should know."

Jawarski studied my face for an uncomfortably long moment. "Did you kiss him back?"

I shook my head. "I don't think so."

"Did you like it?"

"I don't think so."

"But you're not sure."

"No, of course I'm sure. I was shocked, that's all. I had no idea he felt that way about me."

"You didn't? It seemed pretty obvious to me when I saw the two of you together the other night."

I gaped at him. "The night of the murder?"

Jawarski nodded and perched on the corner of his desk. "The man likes you, Abby. The question is, how do you feel about him? Because I'm perfectly content to be patient and let you figure out how you feel about us, but I'm not going to wait around if there's another guy in the mix."

My stomach dropped. Or maybe it was my heart. Something slid to the ground by my feet and left an empty hole inside me. "There's not another guy in the mix," I said firmly. "I just told you, I had no idea what he was going to do."

He dipped his head once. "Fair enough."

I could feel myself doing what I always do when my back's to the wall. I got angry. "And don't sit there looking all morally superior, either. Stephanie would be all over you if you gave her half a chance, and don't pretend you don't know it."

"But the point is," he said with aggravating calm, "I don't give her half a chance."

"Meaning, by implication, that I did give Marshall a chance."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

"Don't put words in my mouth, Abby."

"Don't imply something and then pretend you didn't. I'm not the only one who's confused around here, Jawarski. And I'm not the only one dragging a bunch of baggage around with me. You're no more sure of what you want us to be than I am, so don't pretend you are."

"I know what I want," he said, his voice low. "But sometimes I wonder about you. Do you really have feelings for me, or are you just interested in what I can tell you about whatever case I'm working on?"

We were standing there, staring at each other and waiting for the other one to look away or say something, when an officer put his head into the room. "Hey, Jawarski, we've gotta roll. Got a call about a domestic disturbance down in Swede Alley."

Jawarski broke, nodded at him, and glanced back at me. "Sorry. We'll have to finish this later."

I didn't know whether to feel relieved or irritated. "Sure," I said, plunging my hands into my pockets and heading for the door.

"We still on for tomorrow at eight?"

I stopped in the doorway and looked back at him. "Only if you want to be."

"I'll be there."

And I knew I would be, too. I just wished I could get some idea of how the rest of the conversation was going to play out before I got there.

Chapter 27.

At seven o'clock on the dot, I led Max onto the porch of Wyatt and Elizabeth's house, handed a cellophane-wrapped teacup filled with pastel candies to my sister-in-law and a bottle of wine to my brother. Wyatt grunted, but I couldn't tell if he appreciated the wine or wished I'd brought beer.

Since Jawarski and I weren't having dinner tonight, I'd called to see if Wyatt and Elizabeth were free. I didn't know how seriously to take Marshall's warning about Kerry Hendrix and his temper, but he wasn't the only person who'd expressed doubts about Kerry. With all these warnings ringing in my ears, it didn't seem right to keep my mouth shut while ten innocent boys spent time around someone who might be dangerous.

Elizabeth kissed my cheek and whispered a thank-you for the teacup, and set it on the counter. She bent to take something from the oven. "I'm so glad you agreed to come for dinner. We don't do this often enough."

Wyatt put the wine on ice and pulled a beer from the fridge. "You said you had something important to talk about?"

"I do, but I think it would be best to wait to talk about it until after dinner. I'm not sure I want the kids to know until you've decided what you want to do. Now, what can I do to help you, Elizabeth?"

She waved away the offer. "Dana and Danielle are going to set the table, and that's about all that's left. Just sit down and relax. You want some wine?"

The lack of sleep and the stress of the past week were all starting to catch up with me. "Maybe a c.o.ke," I said. "I still have to drive home."

Wyatt found a c.o.ke in the fridge and handed it to me. "If you want to talk about the kids, now's probably a better time than later. Once they come down for supper, it'll be a mad-house around here until almost eleven."

Unexpected longing for a family of my own almost knocked me over. Most of the time I keep that old dream under control, but once in a while it breaks through and knocks me flat. Doing my best to ignore it, I glanced at the vent over Elizabeth's head and pictured the boys hovering over it on the second floor. "That might be a good idea. Do you mind if we go into the living room for a minute?"

"The living room?" Elizabeth looked aghast. "But dinner's almost finished."

Wyatt followed the direction of my gaze, and realization dawned. "Just turn everything down for a few minutes," he told Elizabeth. Then to me, "We won't be long, will we?"

"Not long at all," I promised.

Elizabeth scowled, but she did as we asked, and we migrated into the other room. Keeping my voice low just in case, I filled them in on everything I'd learned about Kerry and my concerns that he was either connected to Hobbs in some way or in danger himself. "I don't know what you want to do," I said when I finished. "I don't have any proof that Hendrix is involved in the murder, and I can't prove that he sent the driver of the SUV after the boys and me, but I didn't want to leave you in the dark."

Wyatt rubbed a hand across his face and shared a look with Elizabeth. "I don't want to say a man's gone bad just because he rubs a few people the wrong way. h.e.l.l, if people started thinking that way, I'd be on dozens of lists, myself."

"It's not just that he rubs people the wrong way," Elizabeth said, her face creased with concern. "If you ask me, there's too much going on here to ignore. It seems pretty obvious that Coach Hendrix knew Hobbs, but he's lying about it for some reason. I don't like it."

"That doesn't necessarily mean that he's guilty of murder," I pointed out.

Elizabeth sighed heavily. "I know that, but we don't know for sure, do we? What if he's involved somehow? What if he's in danger, himself? Can we afford to take that chance?"

Wyatt shook his head slowly. "h.e.l.l if I know."

"Well, I do," she said firmly. "I don't want the boys on the team anymore. Not if Kerry Hendrix is going to be coaching."

"What are you going to do?" Wyatt asked. "Tell Hendrix he has to quit?"

"If we have to. The boys shouldn't suffer because of his decisions."

Wyatt chuckled. "When you're in charge of the world, sweetheart, you can make sure everything works out fair. This isn't an easy problem to fix. Hendrix isn't the type to quit, even if we threaten him."

"Then let's go to the other parents and warn them," Elizabeth suggested. "If we all band together and demand that he step down, what choice would he have?"

"If he's innocent," I said, "he might sue you for slander. I'd be careful about going that route. Even if he couldn't prove his case, he could make your lives miserable for a long time, and he's just the type to enjoy doing that."

Elizabeth deflated a bit. "But what other choice do we have?"

"I don't think we have one," Wyatt said. "If we want to make sure the boys are safe, we're going to have to pull them from the team."

"I guess you're right," Elizabeth said with a frown. "They're going to be upset, but we can't just let them keep going to practice and games, with so many bad things happening and so much that's unexplained."

Out of nowhere, Caleb spun into the room like a Tasmanian devil, his little face red with fury. "You can't make us quit. That's not fair!"

Elizabeth looked stricken. Wyatt tried to catch his son and stop him from shaking. "It's just for a little while," Wyatt told him, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Just until we can figure out what's going on in town."

"I don't care what's going on in town. If you take me off the team, all the boys will say I'm a sissy!"

"Oh, honey, no they won't," Elizabeth said, trying to rea.s.sure him.

"Yes they will. They already think I'm a baby, and you're going to make it worse."

"It won't just be you, sport," Wyatt said gently. "Brody will have to sit out for a while, too."

"So?" Caleb shouted. "He doesn't have everybody calling him names."

The poor kid looked so miserable, I thought my heart would break. "Caleb, please try to understand-"

He turned on me the instant he heard my voice, and the anger on his young face made me catch my breath. "All the other boys are gonna hate me," he shouted, "and it's all your fault."

"Caleb!" Elizabeth shot to her feet. "You don't talk to your aunt that way. Apologize to her right this minute."

"No. I won't. It is her fault. It's all her fault." As quickly as he'd appeared, he was gone. I heard his little footsteps thundering up the stairs, and I was dimly aware of the blur that was Wyatt racing out of the room after him.

Chapter 28.

"He's only a little boy. He didn't know what he was saying," Karen said when I told her about it the next morning. She stood in a patch of sunlight that streamed inside through the kitchen windows, which made the day look far warmer than it actually was. She shivered and nudged up the thermostat a couple of degrees. Like other old buildings, Divinity is notoriously drafty.

"He knows he hates me," I said as I measured three cups of raisins into a bowl. Caleb still hadn't forgiven me, and I was feeling horribly sorry for myself. Making rum raisin b.a.l.l.s seemed like a reasonable way to lift my mood. If the scents of melting chocolate and the steps involved in making the candy didn't work, the rum might. "I wish I could figure out what connection Kerry Hendrix had with the dead guy. He's the one who should be leaving the team."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like him."

"That doesn't make him a murderer," Karen pointed out. "And even if it does, let the police prove it."

Deep down, I knew she was right. I had to have faith in the system. I had to believe that right would prevail. And I did . . . deep down. Closer to the surface, I felt like I'd failed my nephews, and I hated knowing that they agreed with me.

I covered the raisins with rum, set them aside to soak for the next three hours, and tried to shake off the foul mood that had been plaguing me all morning. "Is everything ready for the book club meeting?"

"Almost," Karen said. "Liberty's setting up the new meeting room even as we speak, and I've almost finished putting together the sample trays." The Paradise Pageturners had been holding their monthly meetings at Divinity for the past several years. In all the excitement of the impending holiday, the murder, and our new clerk I'd nearly forgotten that the Pageturners had rescheduled their meeting for today. Once again, Karen had covered my backside.

The ladies of the club left the selection of candies up to us every month, and we tried to give them a few old favorites along with a couple of new varieties each time.

Usually, I created the sample trays for the group, but Karen had been chomping at the bit for more responsibility for months. She'd worked part-time at Divinity for Aunt Grace while I was off living my other life, yet Aunt Grace had left the store to me. Feelings of guilt over my inheritance and grat.i.tude toward Karen for helping me learn the ropes convinced me that it was only fair to let her exercise her creative side once in a while, so I'd turned the task over to her this time. This morning, with my nerves on fire and my mood in the toilet, I almost regretted the decision.

"Don't worry," Karen said. "Liberty and I can handle the book club meeting."

"I know you can," I said with a thin smile. "I'm just in a strange mood this morning. Ignore me."