"Richard. And Grace, isn't it? It's been too long," Meghan said from behind me.

I wouldn't have been surprised to hear d.i.c.k's mom respond that it hadn't been long enough, but she just said "Meghan," and then, "Where's Erin?"

"She's in here," Meghan said, leading the way to the kitchen. "We're having dinner. Please join us. It's just chili, but it's good stuff."

How she could be so gracious was beyond me. In the bright light of the kitchen I saw it was nearly beyond her, as well. The strain played across her features as she turned to the cupboard to get more bowls and plates. I moved toward the silverware drawer. Under the table, Brodie growled low in his throat.

d.i.c.k said, "No, thanks. Mom's not much for chili. We're on our way to dinner. We were hoping to take Erin with us, but I guess it's too late."

Meghan stiffened, turned from the cupboard. She hadn't expected this particular kind of end run. I stuck my hand out to d.i.c.k's mom.

"Hi, Mrs. Bly. I'm Sophie Mae Reynolds. It's nice to meet you."

"Not Bly. Not for a long time. Thorson," she said.

I nodded and smiled. She eyed me for a long uncomfortable moment, then shook my hand. Her skin felt sticky with lotion, and her grip was brutal. I met her eyes and resisted the temptation to either shake out my hand or wipe it on the leg of my sweatpants.

Grace Thorson was waging quite a war with the natural aging process. Her hair color, while one found in nature-if you happened to be looking at a blood-orange-would have been more appropriate gelled and spiked on the lead singer in a punk band than puffed into this sculpted hairdo on a woman so obviously in her sixties. Maybe her seventies. I did some quick math and decided it could be either one. Long false eyelashes fanned from eyes pulled a bit too tight at the temples, and her makeup had been applied with a heavy, but expert, hand. She wore a black pantsuit, quite stylish but rather overdone for Cadyville, and high-heeled pumps that could have come from Frederick's of Hollywood. Even with the heels she was shorter than me, and scary thin.

Erin had stopped eating and sat watching all this without a word. It seemed strange behavior for a grandmother to ignore her granddaughter like that, even for the brief time we'd been in the kitchen. My grandma would have been all over me as soon as she walked in the room. Of course, mine wouldn't wait until I was ten years old to get around to meeting me, either.

"Erin, this is your grandma," Meghan said.

"Hi, Grandma," Erin said in a small voice.

And then, I swear to G.o.d, the woman reached down and pinched Erin's cheek. The effect was surreal; a hackneyed gooeygrandma move from this painted death's-head creature, far more creepy than affectionate. Erin pulled back and rubbed her face.

"You can call me Grace. I like it better than 'Grandma"'

Amused, I looked at Meghan, who still stood by the cupboard. Any hint of a smile slid from my face when I saw her expression. My housemate was terrified.

"Well," d.i.c.k said to Erin, "Since you've already eaten, how 'bout you come with us anyway. You can have some big yummy dessert while we eat."

Erin looked between her parents. "Can I have chocolate cake?"

"Sure! Whatever you want."

"And ice cream?"

"Erin," Meghan said.

"Oh, get off her back. She can have whatever dessert she wants. C'mon, kiddo," d.i.c.k said.

"No," Meghan said.

Erin, already on her feet, paused.

"It's too late for her to go out."

d.i.c.k made a show of looking at his watch. "It's only six-thirty, for G.o.d's sake. Lighten up, huh? We're just taking her for dessert. You wouldn't let me take her out of school for lunch tomorrow-it was going to be a surprise treat, Erin-and Mother wants to spend some time with my little angel."

"I'm sorry. She hasn't been feeling well, and she still has some homework to do for tomorrow."

He rolled his eyes. "Homework. Erin, do you want to do homework? Or would you rather come eat chocolate cake with your grandmother?"

Erin's gaze shuttled between her mother and father, uncertain. I wished I could do something, but I couldn't think what.

Mrs. Thorson spoke. "This is ridiculous. We're taking you to a restaurant, Erin. Get your coat."

Erin responded to the authority in her voice and moved toward the coat rack in the hallway, albeit slowly.

Meghan shook her head and said firmly, "I'm sorry, but that's just not going to happen tonight."

"I'm leaving in two days and I'm going to spend some time with my granddaughter, whether you like it or not. It's my right. Richard, for heaven's sake, stop being such a wimp and stand up for yourself. Erin's your daughter. She can't tell you what to do with your own daughter."

Whoo boy.

And from under the table, Brodie let loose, barking and growling and lunging at Grace Thorson, snapping at the air around her bony ankles. She screamed and started swinging her purse at him. I yelled, but Meghan moved. She was calling him off and had hooked her fingers in his collar, when Richard pulled back his booted foot to kick the little dog. Erin screamed from the doorway.

"No, Daddy! No! Don't hurt him!" She ran into the room and flung herself on the floor between her dog and her father.

Irritated, d.i.c.k brought his foot back to the floor. "I wasn't going to hurt him. What's wrong with the little fu ... guy, anyway? He always behaved when I lived here."

Meghan ignored him, calming Brodie in a shaky voice and leading him to the laundry room. He continued to grumble low in his throat.

"That beast is a menace and should be put down. Stupid beast tried to bite me, and biting dogs cannot be allowed to live. Richard, you must see to it." The crotchety old bat stuck her pointy little chin out to emphasize her point.

Erin, still sitting on the floor, looked terrified.

Meghan shut the door. "I think that reaction is a bit strong, Grace. Brodie didn't bite you-he's never bitten anyone."

Grace sniffed. "He's vicious. Any fool can see that. Now, Erin, get up from that floor. We're going for dessert."

Meghan's head whipped around, but Erin said, "No, thank you. I need to get my homework done for tomorrow."

"You can do your homework when you get back. You're in what, fifth grade? It can't be that hard. Come on."

Erin shook her head, still sitting on the floor. Meghan had moved to squat beside her. "I don't want to."

"What? I don't care if you want to or not! Children don't know what they want. Now stop this-"

Meghan stood up and turned on the older woman. "Get... out... of... my... house. Now. If you don't leave immediately, I'll call the police, so help me."

d.i.c.k stared at Meghan. His mother's lip curled, and she shook her head. She began to speak, but the doorbell interrupted her. Erin was on her feet and out of the kitchen in a flash. I followed her out to the hallway.

I was downright overjoyed to see Barr Ambrose standing in the doorway. "Come in, Detective!" I said, louder than warranted. He gave me a funny look and stumbled as I grabbed his arm and pulled him across the threshold.

"What-?"

"Shh"

I led him into the kitchen, where we found Grace and Meghan nose-to-nose, glaring at each other.

"I don't give a d.a.m.n if some stupid judge gave you custody, missy, you don't have the right to keep Richard away."

Meghan's eyes flicked over the woman's bony shoulder to Ambrose and me. She said, "I don't keep your darling son from seeing his daughter. He's the one who brings her home early on their weekends so he can party and gamble. If he's so interested in being a good father, maybe he ought to try paying a little child support once in a while. Now, I told you I want you out of my house, and I'm not kidding." She shifted her attention. "h.e.l.lo, Detective."

Ambrose had recovered from my brisk treatment. He smiled and inclined his head. "Ms. Bly."

Turning his gaze to d.i.c.k and his mother, Ambrose raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question. I had expected his presence to quiet things down a little, but I was unprepared for the look of horror that pa.s.sed over d.i.c.k's face before he managed to squelch it. His mother remained expressionless, but that could have been as much due to botox as to self-control.

"This is d.i.c.k Bly and his mother, Grace Thorson," I said. "d.i.c.k, Grace, this is Detective Ambrose"

d.i.c.k didn't even take the time to shoot me the usual withering glance for abusing his name. His words came out in a rush as he put his arm around his mother's shoulder and guided her toward the door.

"I'm sorry we can't stay to chat, but we've got dinner reservations. Talk to you later, Meghan. Bye, Angel." This last as he patted Erin's head on the way to the front door. Grace didn't say a word, just clicked across the hardwood in her high heels. d.i.c.k grabbed their coats off the back of the chair, but they didn't pause to put them on before they left. Meghan, Ambrose, and I stared after them.

"What happened?" I asked.

TWENTY-FIVE.

AMBROSE PULLED OUT A chair and sat down. "I wouldn't mind knowing that myself. What was that all about?"

Meghan sighed. "My ex-husband. His mother's in town, and they wanted to take Erin out for dessert. I didn't want her to ... where is she? Erin?" I heard panic in her voice.

"It's okay. She's getting Brodie from the laundry room," I said.

Erin came into the kitchen, the little dog padding behind her as if nothing had happened. Then he saw Ambrose and ran over to him, wagging his whole behind since he didn't have a tail to do the job. Ambrose bent down and scritched him behind the ears, laughing.

"I'll go up and do my homework," Erin said. Her eyes were red.

Meghan picked up Brodie. "Then I'll bring your little buddy along for company."

I was left with Ambrose. "Want some chili?" I asked.

"It smells pretty good," he said, craning his neck toward the stove.

I got up and ladled him a bowl, and he started loading it with condiments. I cut him a slab of corn bread, and, on second thought, cut myself another piece, too.

"Things always so crazy around here?" he asked between bites.

I shook my head. "Never. Well, hardly ever."

"Hmmm" He ate some corn bread. Watched me. Waited for me to fill the silence, maybe explain about the message Meghan had left him. I ate, too, keeping my mouth full so I wouldn't have to talk as I tried to decide the best way to tell him about the pickup trying to run me down. Should I tell him about the missing paperwork? He'd hit the roof.

Before I'd decided whether I wanted to weather that storm, Meghan returned, saving me from having to eat a fourth piece of corn bread.

"Erin okay?" I asked.

"No. She's not," Meghan said, sounding defeated.

"She's bound to be upset."

"She doesn't want to talk about it."

"Give her a little time," I said.

When Meghan didn't respond, Ambrose asked, "Why didn't you want her to go have dessert with them?"

I'd been wondering the same thing. As nasty as d.i.c.k's mother had been, Meghan's vehement reaction surprised me. Meghan swallowed, then reached out a trembling hand for her water gla.s.s. She held it in both hands and took a sip.

She said, "I know it sounds stupid, but when they showed up like that and wanted to take her out, I just knew they weren't going to bring her home."

No wonder she'd been so scared. Ambrose swallowed a mouthful of chili, leaning forward. "Why? Have there been incidents in the past?"

Meghan shook her head. "Nothing. He's a flake, and he's irresponsible, but I never thought before that he might take her. I mean, so often he brings her back early when he does have her that it never occurred to me he'd try to keep her until tonight."

"So what was different this time?" Ambrose asked. His tone was conversational, nonjudgmental, inviting. Part of me wanted to tell Meghan to be careful, but another part found his compa.s.sion very appealing. I offered him more corn bread. He smiled his thanks.

"I don't know," Meghan said.

He persisted. "There was something."

She took another drink of water. "This afternoon he called and wanted to take Erin out of school tomorrow. To have lunch with his mother. Erin had never met her. I told him no."

"You didn't want Erin to miss school," Ambrose said.