"What?" Paul sounded ticked off.

"Look, I'm sorry. You know d.a.m.n well that my sister was murdered. I have to deal with her kid, Paul. I can't just walk away from this, even if you want to nail down a deal."

Silence beat at him from the other end of the line. "You could bring her back with you," Paul finally said.

"No. Vegas is no place for a kid."

"Are you serious about your career?"

"Paul, don't give me that BS. You know I am. I need a couple of weeks. I promise you I'll be back for the main event. And if I don't get a sponsor before that, I've already got my stake all saved up."

"You're a fool if you turn this deal down, Mike."

Of course Paul wanted him to grab that sponsorship. Paul would make 15 percent of any signing bonus. And in Paul's world, money was everything.

"I'm no fool. I'll be back in a week or two."

Paul grumbled at him for a few more minutes before Mike finally got him off the phone. The idea of a drink sounded better and better.

He had just about decided that a beer would be okay when his doorbell rang.

"What now?" he muttered as he opened his door to find Elsie Campbell with a Tupperware cake container in her hands. "Hey there, handsome, I told you I'd bring you a cake."

"Thanks, Elsie."

He started to reach for the cake container, but Elsie had other ideas. She marched right into his apartment and headed for the kitchen. "You look like you need a pick-me-up," she said. "I'll just get some coffee going."

He opened his mouth, intent on telling her that he didn't want coffee, but then he changed his mind. She was a busybody all right, but that meant she also knew a thing or three about Timmy's life.

His half-brother had been stingy with information when they'd worked out their little arrangement. And Mike didn't really blame him. After all, Timmy didn't remember anything about him. But Mike remembered Timmy. He remembered showing him how to kick a soccer ball. He remembered playing Matchbox cars with him. He remembered the way Timmy climbed into his bed whenever Mom and Daddy started arguing.

He remembered a lot.

So Mike sat himself down at the little kitchen table and let Elsie have the run of his kitchen. Which was sort of difficult for her because Tigger decided she liked Elsie. She came in from the living room where she liked to sleep and proceeded to rub herself up against Elsie's leg, while simultaneously letting forth a bunch of loud meows.

"You are a friendly one, aren't you?" Elsie asked in one of those silly, high baby-talk voices. She bent over and scratched the cat's ears. The cat closed its eyes and looked like it had entered some altered state.

"Nice cat, Mike."

"Yeah, whatever."

Elsie gave him the evil eye. "You don't like cats?"

"I never had a cat before. But that particular cat is possessed."

Elsie laughed. "Why do you say that?"

"Up until this moment, I truly thought she was a one-person cat. She's okay when I feed her, but otherwise she has her claws out whenever I'm around."

Elsie put a huge slice of coconut cake in front of him and then sat herself down. The demon cat hopped right up onto her lap and made herself comfy. Clearly the cat liked women better than men.

He took a bite of cake. Wow! Elsie sure hadn't spared the sugar. "Elsie, this is terrific," he said, hoping that the frosting wouldn't make his teeth hurt.

Her face lit up. He'd obviously made her day. Which kind of lifted his spirits, too.

"Thanks, hon. I reckon a single man like you doesn't get much in the way of scratch-made cake very often."

"No, I don't."

"So you live in Vegas?" she asked.

He proceeded to give her the Cliff Notes version of his life, starting at the moment when Colin Lake walked out with Timmy on his hip.

"Bless your heart, y'all have been separated for all these years?"

"Yes we have. And I don't know much about him. I mean, once I got older I looked him up and learned that he was in seminary so I knew that much. But you probably know more about him than I do."

"Oh, well, I don't know about that. He's pretty new in town."

"Elsie, I'll be honest with you, what I really want to know is whether Timmy has any girlfriends. I mean, I want Rainbow to have the best possible mother."

The cat meowed loudly and poked her head up. She gave Mike a demonic stare out of her half-closed eyes. He really didn't like that cat.

Elsie didn't seem at all perturbed by the cat's behavior. She continued to give it lots of pets and scratches. "I understand completely," she said. "As it happens, Pastor Tim doesn't have any girlfriends. And the Altar Guild is a little concerned about that. We all thought that he might marry Jenny Carpenter, but that didn't work out. And recently he's been so busy with various church issues that he doesn't have much time for a social life."

"I see."

She and Tigger leaned in, conspiratorially. "I think we should work on matching him up with Sabina Grey."

"Sabina? Who's she?"

"She and her sister, Lucy, own the antiques mall in town. Sabina is cute as a b.u.t.ton. And she's a regular member of the Altar Guild."

"I guess I'll have to stop by the mall and check her out."

"You do that. And, honey, the Altar Guild has discussed this situation at length, and we are all in agreement that you are telling the truth. We don't see any reason why you'd be trying to pull the wool over Pastor Tim's eyes. This has got to be a real shock for him, discovering he's got a brother and sister and a niece."

"I guess it is. But he's the lucky one, Elsie. He's the one who got out of a bad situation and into a good family."

Elsie nodded. "I understand entirely." She stopped scratching Tigger long enough to reach out and pat his hand. Maybe it was his imagination, but he got the distinct impression that the cat was not pleased by this.

"And I just want to let you know," Elsie said, "that we're all here to help you in any way we can. We'd like to see Pastor Tim adopt Rainbow. And we all believe this situation might be just what we need to get him into a matrimonial frame of mind, if you know what I mean."

That's the moment when the cat decided she'd had enough of Elsie. She jumped off the woman's lap, but not before she sank her sharp little claws into her thigh.

"Ouch!" Elsie gave the cat a black look.

"I told you. She's possessed."

"Yeah, with really sharp claws."

The cat turned and walked out of the room in a truly regal fashion, her tail held high.

"Sorry about that," Mike said.

"Oh, honey, it's okay. You warned me. And besides, cats can be funny sometimes," she said.

Elsie's cell phone rang. "Hang on a minute, Mike." She pushed the talk b.u.t.ton and listened to the voice on the other end. It didn't take a poker player to read her face. Her complexion paled, and the corners of her mouth turned down. Within thirty seconds, Mike knew that the caller had conveyed bad news.

Elsie said a few words, then ended the call. "Mike, I gotta go. That was Ruthie Clatcher on the phone. I'm afraid her daddy, Ralph, died this morning. It's not entirely unexpected, since he was about ninety years old, but I need to get going on another cake and probably a ca.s.serole."

"Uh, Elsie, I love your cake, but if you need to take some of it over to Ralph's family, that would be fine by me. It's delicious. The best coconut cake I've ever tasted. But it's just me and Rainbow here, and the kid doesn't eat anything but pizza."

"Really? Not even sweets?"

He nodded. "I can't get anything but pizza down her throat. She's very picky."

"Oh, bless her heart."

"There's no way I could eat all this cake."

"You're a good man, Mike. Thanks. I'm sure Ruthie won't mind a bit that there's a slice missing."

Tim wanted to remember his childhood. But his earliest memory of his dad had to be when he was five or six, out on Lake Lanier fishing from the back of a pontoon boat. Try as hard as he might, Tim couldn't go back any further in time.

Unfortunately, he couldn't ask his father for the truth. Dad had died a year ago. So last night, Tim had pulled down the box of stuff he'd kept after Dad's death. He'd gone through everything in that box looking for answers. But he found none-only more questions.

The family photo alb.u.ms contained no photos of him before the age of three. And none of him with Mother until he looked to be about four or five.

Why was that? And why hadn't he ever been curious about the fact that all his baby photos seemed to be missing? Those missing photos suggested that Mike's story was true.

If Mike had told the truth, then Dad had lied. And that rocked Tim's world. Dad had been one of the most honest people Tim had ever known. Colin Lake had been a man of great faith. A deacon in his church. An exemplary neighbor, husband, and father. How could he have kept such a monumental thing from Tim?

Tim wanted the truth. And yet he feared it. Perhaps that explained why he hadn't called Eugene Hanks to ask his advice about a private investigator. He had also procrastinated when it came to calling Mike, even though he needed to have a face-to-face conversation with him about arrangements for the little girl.

His cell phone rang as he brooded over these conflicting desires. He checked the caller ID: Elsie Campbell.

He didn't want to deal with the chair of the Altar Guild right at this moment. He could never predict what Elsie wanted when she called. It could be important or it could be nonsense. But he'd learned the hard way that he ignored her calls at his peril.

He pressed the talk b.u.t.ton. "What's up, Elsie?"

"Ralph Clatcher has died. Ruthie needs you as quickly as possible."

It came as no surprise that Elsie knew about the old man's demise before Tim. Elsie was almost always the first to know anything.

This death, tragic as it was, gave him a reason to put off making any hard decisions. He needed to get over to Ralph's daughter's house and spend a little time with Ruthie, who had been taking care of her aged father for quite a long time. Which meant he'd have to cut short that face-to-face meeting with Mike he'd been dreading.

He finished his conversation with Elsie and then called Ruthie Clatcher to express his condolences and let her know that he would be there soon. Ruthie told him that the ca.s.serole brigade had already started to convene at her house, so that gave him a little wiggle room. Ruthie wasn't alone, and Martha Spalding's apartment at Edisto Pines was on the way to Ruthie's house.

Fifteen minutes later, Tim knocked on the condo's door. Mike answered a moment later, looking frazzled. He hadn't shaved, his eyes were bloodshot, and he conveyed a sense of utter exhaustion. Concern tugged at Tim.

"So how's it going?" he asked.

"Okay, I guess." Mike didn't sound entirely sure of himself. "So, did you check out my story?"

"No, not yet. You've only been here twenty-four hours, and I've been very busy. How's the child?"

"Too busy?" Mike's forehead wrinkled. "A person who claims to be your long-lost brother shows up and you're too busy to check out his story?"

Tim's ears burned. He deserved Mike's frustration. He should have called Eugene first thing this morning.

He took a deep, calming breath and walked past Mike into the living room of Martha Spalding's condo with its lace doilies and cafe curtains. Mike Taggart belonged in this s.p.a.ce like a gigolo at a ladies' sewing circle.

"I'm sorry about the decor of this place. Martha Spalding is about seventy years old."

"I figured."

"So where's Rainbow?"

"In the bedroom. With her cat."

"I guess I probably should keep my distance then." Tim sat down on the old-lady sofa and immediately sneezed. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and sneezed three more times.

"Wait a sec. I forgot," Mike said. "You had asthma as a kid. Really bad asthma. I remember one time when Daddy and I had to take you to the hospital. I think the asthma had something to do with Daddy leaving."

Mike's words touched something dim and distant, like the echo of a memory. Tim remembered being taken to a hospital. He'd been very young and scared to death. Dad had been there with him, steady and calm as always. Was there someone else in the car that night? Maybe.

"You're right about the asthma," Tim said. "And if it turns out that what you've said is true, then we're going to have to find another home for the cat. I can't have a cat in my house."

Mike sank down onto the ottoman, a picture of exhaustion. "Tim, I don't think you understand. Rainbow pitched a full-on tantrum this morning when I told her she couldn't take Tigger shopping with her. Separating her from the cat is going to be traumatic."

"It's got to be done."

"Right now?"

"I'm going to check out your story, but right now I've decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. Which means that Rainbow will eventually come to live with me. She can't bring her cat. And the sooner we begin to wean her from this dependency the better."

"It ain't gonna be easy. Get ready for some very bad behavior."

"Then I think this is an issue we need to take up with Andrea Newsome. She's the child therapist I told you about yesterday. She has an office in Allenberg. Not too far away. I made an appointment for Rainbow for tomorrow at three p.m. I thought I could drive her there."

Mike pressed his lips together as if this news annoyed him.

"Unless you want to drive her," Tim said. "I just thought that driving her to her appointment would be a good way for us to spend time together, without the cat."

Mike nodded his head. "All right, Timmy. I can see the logic in that."

Timmy again? How odd to be called that name. He scrutinized Mike for a long moment. Mike's shoulders slumped, and that emotionless mask he'd worn yesterday seemed a little worse for wear. He didn't look like a trustworthy person right at the moment.