And Michael. He and Mike had gone for milk to Wiggins' Market – was it just yesterday morning? They'd arrived just as that tenant at The Lookout, Mr Parrish was leaving. The man had nodded pleasantly, but when he got into the old Ford wagon of his, Michael's face had wrinkled with distaste. 'I don't like him,' he'd said.

Ray almost smiled at the memory. Mike was a rugged little guy, but he had something of Nancy 's distaste for ugliness, and no matter how you sliced it, Courtney Parrish was a clumsy, slow-moving, unattractive man.

Even the Wiggjnses had commented on him. After he left, Jack Wiggins said drily, 'That fellow's about the slowest-moving human being I ever bumped into. He meanders around shopping like he's got all the time in the world.'

Michael had looked reflective. 'I never have enough time,' he'd said. 'I'm helping my dad refinish a desk for my room, and every time I want to keep working on it, I have to get ready for school.'

'You've got quite an assistant there, Ray,' Jack Wiggins had remarked. 'I'll give him a job any time; he sounds like a worker.'

Mike had picked up the package. 'I'm strong, too,' he'd said. 'I can carry things. I can carry my sister for a long time.'

Ray ground his hands into fists. This was unreal, impossible. The children missing. Nancy sedated. What was she saying?

Her voice still had that eager lilt. 'Daddy used to call Mother and me his girls…' Her voice faltered.

'What is it, Nancy?' Dr Miles asked. 'Your father called you his little girl? Did that upset you?'

'No… no… no… he called us his girls. It was different… it was different… not like that at all…' Her voice rose sharply in protest.

Lendon's voice was soothing. 'All right, Nancy. Don't worry about that. Let's talk about college. Did you want to go away to school?'

'Yes… I really did… except… I was worried about Mother…'

'Why did you worry about her?'

'I was afraid she'd be lonely – because of Daddy… and we'd sold the house; she was moving into an apartment. So much had changed for her. And she'd started a new job. But she liked working… She said she wanted me to go… She liked to say that today… today.. '

'Today is the first day of the rest of your life,' Lendon finished quietly. Yes, Priscilla had said that to him too. The day she came into the office after she'd put Nancy on the plane for school. She told him about still waving goodbye after the plane had taxied away towards the runway. Then her eyes had filled, and she'd smiled apologetically. 'Look how ridiculous I am,' she'd said, trying to laugh; 'the proverbial mother hen.'

'I think you're doing fine,' Lendon had told her.

'It's just that when you think how your life can change… so incredibly. AH of a sudden, a whole part, the most important part… is ended. But on the other hand, I think when you've had something quite wonderful… so very much happiness.., you can't look back and regret. That's what I told Nancy today… I don't want her worrying about me. I want her to have a wonderful time in school. I said that we should both remember that motto: "Today is the first day of the rest of our lives." '

Lendon remembered that a patient had come into the office. At the time, he'd considered it a blessing; he'd been dangerously close to putting his arms around Priscilla.

'… but it was all right,' Nancy was saying, her voice still hesitant and groping. 'Mother's letters were cheerful. She loved her job. She wrote a lot about Dr Miles… I was glad…"

'Did you enjoy school, Nancy?' Lendon asked. 'Did you have many friends?' 'At first. I liked the girls, and I dated a lot.' 'How about your schoolwork? Did you like your subjects?'

'Oh, yes. They all came pretty easily… except bio…'

Her tone changed – subtly became troubled. 'That was harder. I never liked science… but the college required it… so I took it…' 'And you met Carl Harmon.'

'Yes. He… wanted to help me with bio. He had me come to his office and he'd go over the work with me. He said I was dating too much and that I must stop or I'd be sick. He was so concerned… he even started giving me vitamins. He must have been right… because I was so tired… so much… and started to feel so depressed… I missed Mother…'

'But you knew you would be home over Christmas.' 'Yes… and it didn't make sense… All of a sudden… it got so bad… I didn't want to upset her… so I didn't write about it… but I think she knew… She came out for a week-end… because she was worried about me… I know it… And then she was killed… because she came out to see me… It was my fault… my fault…' Her voice rose in a shriek of pain, then broke into a sob.

Ray started out of his chair, but Jonathan pulled him back. The oil lamp flickered on Nancy 's face. It was contorted with pain. 'Mother!' she cried. 'Oh Mother… please don't be dead… live! Oh, Mother, please, please live… I need you… Mother, don't be dead… Mother…'

Dorothy turned her head, trying to bite back tears. No wonder Nancy had resented her remarks about being a surrogate grandmother to Missy and Michael. Why was she here? No one was even conscious or caring of her presence. She'd be more useful if she went out and made coffee. Nancy might want some later too. She should take off her coat. She couldn't. She felt too cold; so alone. She stared down for a moment at the hooked rug and watched as the pattern blurred before her eyes. Lifting her head, she met the inscrutable gaze of Jonathan Knowles and knew that he'd been watching her for some time.

'… Carl helped you when your mother died. He was good to you?' Why was Lendon Miles dragging out this agony? What point was there in making Nancy relive this too? Dorothy started to her feet.

Nancy 's answer was quiet. 'Oh, yes. He was so good to me… He took care of everything.'

'And you married him.'

'Yes. He said he'd take care of me. And I was so tired. He was so good to me…'

' Nancy, you mustn't blame yourself for your mother's accident. That wasn't your fault.'

'Accident?' Nancy 's voice was speculative. 'Accident? But it wasn't an accident. It wasn't an accident…'

'Of course it was.' Lendon's voice stayed calm, but he could feel the tightness of his throat muscles.

'I don't know… I don't know…'

'All right; we'll talk about it later. Tell us about Carl.'

'He was good to me…'

'You keep saying that, Nancy. How was he good to you?'

'He took care of me. I was sick; he had to do so much for me…'

'What did he do for you, Nancy?'

'I don't want to talk about that.'

'Why, Nancy?'

'I don't. I don't

'All right. Tell us about the children. About Peter and Lisa.'

"They were so good…"

'They were well behaved, you mean.'

"They were so good… too good…'

' Nancy, you keep saying "good". Carl was so good to you. And the children were good. You must have been very happy.'

'Happy? I was so tired…'

'Why were you so tired?'

'Carl said I was so sick. He was so good to me.'

' Nancy, you must tell us. How was Carl good to you?'

'He made sure I was getting better. He wanted me to get better. He said I had to be a good little girl.'

'How did you feel sick, Nancy? What hurt you?'

'So tired… always so tired… Carl helped me…'

'Helped you how?'

'I don't want to talk about that.'

'But you must, Nancy. What did Carl do?'

'I'm tired… I'm tired now

'All right, Nancy. I want you to rest for a few minutes; then we'll talk some more. Just rest… just rest…'

Lendon got up. Chief Coffin immediately took his arm and jerked his head towards the kitchen. As soon as they were out of the room, Chief Coffin spoke abruptly. "This isn't leading us anywhere. This could take hours and you're not going to find anything out. The girl blames herself for her mother's accident because the mother had made the trip to see her. It's that simple. Now, if you think you can find out anything else about the Harmon murders, get to it. Or else I question her at Headquarters.'