"Do you think this is a good idea?" Savannah said as I stalked up the front walkway.

"No one else is going to do it for us."

"Hey, I'm all for putting the boots to the guy, but there are other ways, you know. Better ways. I could cast a spell that'll-"

"No spells. I don't want revenge. I want justice."

"A good case of body lice would be justice."

"I want him to know what he did."

"So we'll send him a card. Cooties courtesy of Paige and Savannah."

I tramped up the steps and whammed the cherub knocker against the wooden door. From inside came the scuffling of shoes. A curtain fluttered. Voices murmured. Then Lacey opened the door.

"I'd like to speak to Grantham, please," I said, with as much courtesy as I could muster.

"He isn't here."

"Oh? That's odd. I see his car in the lane. Looks like he scraped up the front bumper."

Lacey's surgically tightened face didn't so much as ripple. "I wouldn't know about that."

"Look, could I please talk to him? This doesn't concern you, Lacey. I know he's in there. This is his problem. Let him handle it."

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"He hit my car. On purpose. Savannah was inside."

Not a flicker of reaction. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."

"Did you hear me? Grantham hit my car. He-"

"You're mistaken. If you're trying to get us to pay for damages-"

"I don't care about the car!" I said, pulling Savannah over and waving at her bloodied nose and shirt. "This is the damage I care about! She's thirteen years old."

"Children get bloody noses all the time. If you're hoping to sue-"

"I don't want to sue! I want him to come out here and see what he's done. That's it. Just bring him out here so I can speak to him."

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Stop covering for him, Lacey. He doesn't deserve it. The guy chases-"

I stopped there. My quarrel was with Grantham, not Lacey and, as good as it would have felt to tell Lacey what else her husband was doing, it wasn't fair. Besides, she probably already knew. I'd only be lowering myself to cheap shots.

"Tell him this isn't finished," I said, then turned and stomped down the steps.

As I approached my car, I "realized Savannah wasn't behind me. I turned to see her in front of the house. Inside the lights flickered on and off. A television soundtrack blared, then faded, then blared again.

"Savannah!" I hissed.

A main floor curtain drew back. Lacey peered out. Savannah looked up and waved her fingers. Then she jogged toward me.

"What do you think you're doing?" I said.

"Just a warning," she said, grinning. "A friendly warning."

When we got home, the teens were filming my neighbor's black cat. I ignored them and pulled into the garage.

While Savannah reheated her dinner, I listened to my messages and returned calls to several Bostonian friends who'd seen my plight on the news. My Satanic altar made the Boston news? They each assured me it had been only a cursory mention on one channel, but that didn't make me feel better.

The teenagers left at nine forty-five, probably to make curfew. The older quartet stayed, taking turns sitting in the minivan and standing vigil on my lawn. I didn't phone the police. That would only call more attention to myself. If I didn't react, the Salvationists would tire soon enough and go home, wherever home was.

I went to bed at eleven. Yes, sad but true, I was young, single, and going to bed at eleven on a Saturday night, as I had almost every night for the past nine months. Since Savannah's arrival, I've had to struggle to maintain even friendships. Dating is out of the question. Savannah is very jealous of my time and attention. Or, perhaps more accurately, she dislikes not having me at her convenience. Like I've said, stability was one of the few things I could offer her, so I didn't push it.

Before retiring for the night, I peeked out the front curtain. Two men still stood on my front lawn, with two women in a nearby car, but the faces and the vehicle had changed. Replacement workers? Great.

I spent way too much time that night brooding about Cary. As if dealing with a Satanic altar wasn't enough, now I had a maturity-challenged lawyer stalking me. How did I get myself into these messes? Maybe publicly humiliating Cary wasn't my brightest idea ever, but how was I to know the guy would retaliate like a sixteen-year-old turned down for a prom date?

Then there was Travis Willard. I liked Willard, which made his cop-out only that much worse. If he wouldn't support me against Cary, who would? I could say East Falls was a typical small town, insular and protective, but I grew up in a small community and it hadn't been like this at all. If the Elders would only let me move… but that led into a whole new area of brooding. I already had enough to last me the entire night.

All was quiet the next morning. Not surprising, given that it was Sunday and this was East Falls. At nine A.M. the phone rang. I checked caller ID. Private caller. Whenever someone doesn't want you to know who they are, it's a good bet they aren't someone you care to speak to.

I let the machine pick up and set the kettle on the stove. The caller hung up.

Ten minutes later, the phone rang again. Another mystery caller. I sipped my tea and waited for the hang-up. Instead, the caller left a cell-phone-static-choked message.

"Paige, it's Grant. I want to speak to you about last night. I'll be at the office at ten."

I grabbed the receiver, but he'd already hung up, and *69 didn't work. I considered my options, then dumped my tea down the sink and walked down the hall to Savannah's bedroom.

"Savannah?" I called, rapping at the door. "Time to get up. We've got an errand to run."

WHEN WE ARRIVED AT GARY'S OFFICE, THE RECEPTION DESK WAS DESERTED. No surprise there. I doubted Cary wanted Lacey to overhear this conversation.

Our footsteps echoed through the emptiness as we crossed the hardwood floor.

"Hello!" Cary's voice drifted from his second-story office. "I'll be right with you!"

I headed up the stairs, Savannah behind me. A rustling of paper erupted from Cary's office, followed by the squeak of his chair.

"Sorry about that," he said, still hidden from view. "No reception on a Sunday, I'm afraid. The wife doesn't-" He stepped from his office and blinked. "Paige? Savannah?"

"Who were you expecting?"

He disappeared back into his office. I followed and waved for Savannah to do the same.

"New client," Cary said. "Not until ten-thirty, though, so I guess I can spare a few minutes. Lacey tells me you stopped by the house last night. Apparently I bumped your car on State Street. I did go downtown to pick up some dry cleaning. I can't say I recall hitting anything, but I did notice a scratch on the front bumper. Of course, I'm extremely sorry-"

"Cut the crap. You know what you did. If you called me here to make excuses, I don't want to hear them."

"Called you here?" He frowned as he settled into his chair. I studied his face for any sign of dissembling but saw none.

"You didn't call me, did you?" I said.

"No, I… well, of course, I was going to call-"

"Where's Lacey?"

A deeper frown. "At church. It's her week to help Reverend Meacham set up."

"It's a trap," I murmured. I whirled to Savannah. "We have to get out of here. Now."

"What's going on?" Cary said, rising from his desk.

I pushed Savannah toward the door, then thought better of it and yanked her behind me before starting forward. She grabbed my arm.