She gave me a bright smile. "I'm hoping you can convince Maxwell to let me into my storage unit."

I was astounded by her audacity. "I can't do that. It's not yours."

"I just thought you'd have some"a"she winkeda" "powers of persuasion. Your husband is obviously crazy about you."

I was glad that was obvious. "I'm sorry, Steffie. What you're asking is illegal."

I watched anger flash in her eyes, then she forced a smile. "No one has to know. Just leave me the key somewhere. It'll be our secret."

I gave her my own forced smile. "I'm sorry. I can't help you."

Her charm had run its course. The gloves were off, and her body vibrated with anger. "I don't believe this. My belongings are in that storage unit, and I'm going to get them out."

I gave her my most withering stare. "You'll do it without my help."

I turned my back to her and went inside to pick up my dry cleaning. After I gave the clerk my ticket, I glanced out the window and saw Stephanie get into a car driven by a man. I squinted at them. Was he the same guy I'd seen at the ball game? The custodian at the school? His profile looked familiar.

"Ma'am?" the clerk said, interrupting my thoughts.

I turned around and paid for Max's suit. By the time I got outside, Stefanie was gone.

Chapter Thirteen.

I met Lee Ann in front of Bo's Burger Barn. She didn't say much, just walked ahead of me. A heavyset greeter seated us, slapping menus on the yellow table and informing us that a server would be with us shortly.

"My treat," I said to Lee Ann as I slid into the chartreuse booth. "Get whatever you want."

She narrowed her eyes. "You don't need to do that. I can buy myself a cup of coffee."

"Sorry," I said. "I wasn't trying to insult you."

She sighed. "I just need to feel like I can do something myself."

Lee Ann had always been moody. Back when we had been in 4-H together, I'd managed to offend her at least once every couple of months. Still, we had some good times together. She'd been a bit like a little sister, something I'd never had.

Our servera"Gail's granddaughter, Glendaa"bounced up to the booth.

"Hey, Trish." She plunked two glasses of water on the table, then she pulled her ticket book from an apron pocket, along with a pen. "You guys hungry? We got a fried catfish special tonight."

I glanced at Lee Ann, who shook her head.

"No, we're not getting much," I said. "Hope that's okay. I just want some onion rings and a Diet Coke." I hoped the soda would give me relief from my headache.

"That's fine." She winked. "Don't matter. You're a celebrity around here, anyway. My granny says you're in cahoots with the cops. I've been telling everybody."

Oh, that was just great. "Listen, I'm not in cahootsa""

"Can you give me the scoop about who they suspect? Granny says you're in the sheriff's office, like, every day."

"No," I said. "Ia""

"It must be just so thrilling to be in on things like that. I saw a picture of the detective from the sheriff's office on television. He's to die for." She fanned herself with her ticket book and heaved a dramatic sigh. "Good thing you have a hot man at home, huh? Otherwise, it'd be hard to keep your mind on the right things." She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling in an expression of ecstasy. "I just love men in uniforms who carry guns."

Not me. I'd be happier if I never saw another cop uniform in my life. And Detective Scott? To die for? Wouldn't Abbie snort about that?

Glenda finished her flight of rapture and looked at me. "Well, it's good you're closemouthed. They wouldn't trust you otherwise." She turned to Lee Ann. "Whaddaya want?"

Eyeing Glenda with distaste, Lee Ann ordered coffee.

"Okay. I'll be back."

"So what's all that about?" Lee Ann asked.

I shook my head. "My mother has been telling everyone I'm some sort of police informant. I wish she'd stop, because I'm not, although it's true I've been at the sheriff's office a lot. They seem to think I saw something that day, and they're determined to get it out of me." I took a sip of water and met Lee Ann's gaze. "But that's not what I called you to talk about."

Her lips were pursed. "Did Karen say that the girls' skipping school was Julie's fault?"

That explained Lee Ann's attitude. "No, not at all. In fact, she won't talk about it. But Charlie overheard Karen say something about Julie running away. I thought you should know."

Lee Ann's expression relaxed. "I know about that. It's because of her father."

I took a big sip of water. "Well, Karen's got issues, too. Maybe you and I could work together somehow to help them."

Lee Ann nodded. "I think Karen's going through that teenage thing where she's mad because her father remarried. Girls are really emotional like that."

She got it in one.

Glenda brought the drinks. "Yours is on the house," she said to me.

Her remark made me feel bad, especially when Lee Ann glared at Glenda's back as she walked away. After she poured sugar and cream into her coffee, Lee Ann took a deep breath and looked at me. "So what have you heard about me and Norm?"

I shrugged. "Not much, really. Just that Norm left for a while."

"Left? That's not quite what happened." She scowled. "I kicked him out. Did you know he started drinking? He drank at work. During lunch. During his break. Packed straight whiskey in his thermos. Used to sit out there under the trees near the landfill and get drunk. Only problem is, by the time he got home, he was coming down. After all these years, he was turning into my old man."

Ouch. That was bad news. "I'm sorry. I remember how your dad was. Norm always seemed to be the stable one."

"Yeah, he was." Lee Ann said nothing else, just sipped her coffee.

"Well, Karen says you have a boyfriend."

Her head jerked up. "A boyfriend? Are you joking?"

"I guess you don't?" I asked.

"Definitely not. I don't ever want to deal with another man again." She stared at me. "You're so lucky."

She'd said that more than once when we were young. In fact, we'd had some competitive moments, with jealousy on both sides. Compared to her home life, mine had been good. At least I wasn't beaten on a regular basis, but still, life hadn't been easy living with someone like my mother.

I decided to change the subject, perhaps dig up some clues for my list. "Hey, has some reporter guy been following you around, asking questions?"

Lee Ann frowned and shook her head.

"He's not a real reporter," I said.

"That's weird. How do you know?"

"I called the paper and asked. He came by the office, and I confronted him. I think he wears a hairpiece."

She sat back in her seat. "Well, what does he want to know?"

I wondered how much to tell her. "All he'll say is that he's trying to dig up people's secrets. I'd like to know who he really is. The police should probably talk to him."

"Yeah, sounds like it." She took another sip of coffee and then searched through her purse. "Thank you for thinking about Julie. I'll be watching out for her. Everything's going to be okay."

"Do you have to go?" I wanted to ask her more questions.

She nodded and put a couple of bills on the table. "I need to check on her."

I followed her from the restaurant. Although I'd succeeded in my original goal of warning Lee Ann about Julie's threats, I wasn't able to learn anything to further my quest to solve Jim Bob's murder or to find out if Russ was guilty of Lindsey's death.

I walked out to my SUV, got inside, and leaned back. My thoughts were running over one another in my head. I needed someone to help me sort things out. Abbie. I started my vehicle and headed over to her apartment. I wondered how her book was coming and whether Detective Scott was still helping her with law-enforcement questions. I chuckled as I thought about Glenda's comments. Then bright headlights in my rearview mirror interrupted my woolgathering. After several blocks of this, I wondered if the car was following me. When I pulled over in front of the now closed antique store, I didn't turn my SUV off, in case the other vehicle stopped behind me. It didn't. Instead, it just kept going and made a right turn several streets up from where I was. My imagination was as bad as Charlie's.

The front windows of Abbie's apartment were dark. I should have called first, but she so rarely went out at night that I just expected her to be home. Once again, I wished she had a cell phone. Maybe she was in the back, in her bedroom. I hopped from my vehicle and went to the side of the building where I pulled at a metal door. It scraped open, hinges squealing. I ran up one narrow flight of stairs, turned a corner, and ran up another. Carrying groceries this far had to be a royal pain.

At the top, I went through another metal door to the landing where the entrance to Abbie's apartment was. I knocked. No one answered. I dug out my cell phone, which was where it was supposed to be for once. I dialed Abbie's number and heard her phone ringing inside. Then the answering machine kicked on. I leaned against the wall, wanting to growl in frustration. The ceiling lamp above me cast a harsh light on the tan walls. I heard nothing inside her apartment and knocked again. Silence swallowed the sound. I felt a prickle of uneasiness on my neck. A car without a muffler passed by on the street. Then a motorcycle. Then nothing. I suddenly felt very alone and punched my cell phone to dial home.

"Trish?" Max answered. "Are you done talking to Lee Ann?"

Hearing his voice made me feel braver, and I walked down the stairs, through the heavy outside door, and into the night.

"Yeah," I said.

"So are you on your way home?" he asked. "I put the little kids to bed. I want to hear how it went with Lee Ann. And you and I need to talk."

"Okay. Be there in a few." Maybe Max and I could get back on solid ground.

When I got home, he was in his office. Tommy's car was gone. I assumed Karen was hiding in her room, talking on the phone. I peered in at Max.

He looked up, took off his glasses, and put them on the desk. "Hi."

He leaned back. "How did it go?" He sounded hopeful, like my talk with Lee Ann would somehow help us solve the Karen problem.

I shrugged. "She didn't really have anything to say about the situation, only confirming what I suspected. That Karen resents me."

I settled in a brown leather chair, curling my legs underneath me.

He sighed, green eyes dark with worry. "Why, exactly, does she resent you?"

"I'm not her real mother."

We stared at each other. I knew he was thinking what I was thinking. If Russ were to blame in any way for Lindsey's death, then Karen's resentment would deepen. I wasn't sure my relationship with her would ever be the same.

Tension creased his forehead. A black cloud had descended over our house, and I wasn't sure how to counteract it. I was about to suggest we pray and then discuss Russ and the stop sign when I heard Karen's rushed footsteps on the stairs.

The back of my chair faced the door, so when Karen stormed in, she didn't see me. "Dad, you wouldn't believe what your wife dida""

I turned and gazed around the chair. She stopped, put her hands on her hips, and glared at me.

Max sat still, glancing rapidly from me to Karen and back again.

"What were you saying, Karen?" His words were mild, but I wasn't fooled. His jaw tightened in anger.

"Well, she blabbed to Mrs. Snyder that Julie was talking about running away. That wasn't any of her business to tell. Julie got yelled at and everything." Karen scowled through blond bangs. "Then Mrs. Snyder grounded her and left."

And that, of course, was my fault.

Max's eyes flashed with anger. "Karen, I don't like your tone or your accusations. I was the one who asked your mother to talk to Mrs. Snyder."

Karen's body vibrated with anger. "Quit calling her that," she shouted. "She's not my mother. And I don't like the way you always take her side." She whirled around and ran from the room, her footsteps on the stairs echoing down the hall.

Max jumped up from his desk to follow her, but I stood and grabbed his arm. "Let her go. Talking to her when she's this upset won't help at all. Give her a couple minutes."

He didn't meet my eyes, and I could tell he didn't want to listen to me.

"Trust me, Max. Just a couple of minutes. While we wait, let's sit in the family room. It's more comfortable."

His breath was rapid, and his eyes still shone bright green, a sure sign he was upset. He didn't say anything, just followed me.

"Rub your shoulders?" I asked before he sat on the couch, knowing that we would be unable to discuss the Russ situation until he had a chance to talk to Karen.

"Please," he said and settled cross-legged at my feet.

I dug my fingers into his shoulders. He took a deep breath and relaxed. That was a good sign. I needed to talk to him about Carey Snook. Maybe Max would help me figure out what Carey was up to.

I told him first about the fake reporter showing up at the house. Max's muscles tensed. Then I mentioned Carey's hair and mustache, describing them in great detail. Max's body became so rigid that his shoulders felt like granite. He pulled away from me, turned his head, and faced me with green eyes that shot sparks.

"Did you tell Detective Scott about this Carey fellow?" he demanded in a loud voice.

The thought hadn't occurred to me. It should have. The fact that I'd neglected something so obvious hurt my pride and made me want to point the finger elsewhere. "I don't want to talk to Detective Scott. He makes me sick."