I thought about that. It made some sense. I did have a connection to Olaf, no matter how miniscule. I didn’t have a motive to kill him, but we’d had dinner and everyone apparently knew about it. I couldn’t hide it.

“Maybe we had a common enemy then?” I said, grabbing a spoon from the drawer. “Someone who had something against both of us?”

Jake shrugged. “It’s a possibility.”

The microwave dinged, signaling the vegetables were done, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was another sign, too. A bell literally going off, telling me I was finally looking in the right direction.

THIRTY FOUR

Making a list of one’s enemies is a humbling chore.

I had to think of all the things I’d done over the years that might piss people off, no matter how small.

But the truth was, I couldn’t think of a single person who might be angry enough with me to try and set me up for murder. I always tried to be nice to people I met. I was always the first one to volunteer for something when no one else was willing. I was the one piling kids in my car to run them home when their parents had somewhere else to be. I was usually the one trying to placate everyone when tensions grew.

It didn’t mean I didn’t ever rub people the wrong way or have people irritated with me. I immediately thought of the real estate agent Thornton had hired to sell our McMansion. Bambi Riggs. Thornton had thought her name was cool; little did I know he’d also been dating her. She’d produced black and white brochures riddled with misspellings and refused to correct them; she then tried to get us to sell to the first person who put in an offer—at thirty percent below our asking price. I’d told Thornton that if he didn’t fire her, I would. It had been tense, but I didn’t think Bambi had the intellect to concoct something as complicated as framing me for murder.

I thought harder. There was the Wal-Mart greeter who constantly asked to see my receipt when I bought unbaggable items like toilet paper and giant jugs of orange juice—and who I always refused. The school nurse who flew off the handle when she saw I’d exempted Emily from the chicken pox vaccine. The homeschool moms who constantly invited me to Bible Study and my kids to youth group, and who we’d politely turn down. There were always frowns and shaking heads when we said no, over and over again. Emily’s English teacher this year, with whom I’d exchanged several curt emails as I struggled to understand why, in Honors Lit, they still hadn’t read a novel and it was already well into the second semester.

None of those people were enemies. They were just every day problems and nuances that people dealt with on a daily basis.

I sighed. I wasn’t going to say I was perfect, but I just didn’t make enemies.

I was staring at the blank yellow legal pad without any enemy names when Sophie walked into our room, rubbing her eyes.

She yawned. “Is my dad asleep?”

I smiled and pointed at him. He was flat on his back, his mouth open, snoring quietly.

“Okay,” she said.

“You okay?” I asked.

She stood there, still rubbing her eyes, then shrugged.

“Come here,” I whispered.

She came around to my side of the bed and I held out my arms. She climbed up onto the bed and laid down on me. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her.

I’d worried the most about her when Jake and I got married. She was the one who was being uprooted and being thrust into a family that was completely different from what she’d known before. A new state, new siblings and new friends. Everything was new to her, including me. So I’d worried about  her and how she was going to feel about her new life.

But she was like Jake. She was even-keeled, accepting, easy going. She was a happy kid and she didn’t seem to be fazed by being thrown into the fire that was our new family. Jake told me over and over again how much she wanted to come to Minnesota, to have siblings and a stepmom, but I’d remained dubious..

And now? After she’d gotten here and settled in?

It felt like she’d always been here.

“Bad dream?” I whispered.

“Kind of,” she admitted. She looked at me, her blue eyes wide. “There were these dragons and they were trying to get into our car.”

“And that was just kind of a bad dream?”

She giggled. “Well, I couldn’t tell if they were friendly or not. But then one of them set the garage on fire. That’s when I woke up.”

“I’m glad you woke up,” I said, squeezing her and kissing the top of her head. “You wanna sleep in here with us?”

She wiggled against me. “My dad always says he likes it better when we sleep in our own beds.”

I knew he did. I’d always had an open door policy for my room and the kids were used to rotating through like it was a revolving door. Sometimes there’d be one in the bed with me and sometimes all three would pile in. It never bothered me. Jake was a different story. He preferred our bed to have two people in it: me and him.

“Look at him,” I whispered in her ear. “I don’t think he’ll even know.”

She raised her head up and giggled again. “Okay.”

She slid off of me, in between me and her dad, but she kept her arms around me. I pulled the blankets over us, switched off the light, and snuggled up next to her.

Maybe I did have enemies I couldn’t place or name or remember.

I was just glad that Sophie wasn’t one of them.

THIRTY FIVE

I woke up before the sun, my mind still spinning, trying to figure out who might have it in for me.

I couldn’t come up with a name, so I focused on Helen again.

And before the sun came up, I had a plan.

Sort of.

Jake was up and out of bed early, rolling his eyes when he saw Sophie buried under the sheets. I just shrugged and smiled and extricated myself from her arms. I headed downstairs to get a cup of coffee while Jake showered. Twenty minutes later, he was dressed and herding Emily out the door so he could drop her off before heading to an early morning meeting at the plant.

I waited for Jake’s car to round the corner before I went back upstairs. I peeked in on Sophie; she was splayed out across my bed. I glanced into the room she shared with Grace. She was dead asleep, her mouth hanging open, her bedraggled stuffed teddy tucked under her arm.

I crossed the hall, wincing as the floor squeaked under my feet. I sat down on the edge of Will’s bed and, after a moment’s hesitation, touched his shoulder. He made some unintelligible noise and burrowed deeper under his blankets. I touched his shoulder again, shaking him a little this time. He cracked one eye open and frowned at me.

“Good morning,” I whispered.

“Why are you waking me up?” he grumbled.

“I need your help.”

He stared at me blankly and then closed his eyes.

“Will. Did you hear me?”

“Okay,” he said, pulling the blanket over his head. “Give me a couple minutes.”

I knew a couple minutes meant a couple hours. And I didn’t want to wait.

I peeled the corner of the blanket back. “No. Like, now.”

He sighed under the blankets. “Fifteen minutes.”

“Ten,” I said, relenting. “I’ll be downstairs. And don’t wake up your sisters.”

His response was to grab his pillow and put it over his head.

I was in the kitchen, nursing my second cup of coffee and waiting for a bagel to finish toasting when he stumbled downstairs.

He crashed on the sofa, pulled his knees to his chest and grabbed the cream-colored afghan draped over the armrest. “I should not be awake,” he complained.

“I know,” I said, sitting down on the couch next to him. “I’m sorry. But I really need your help.”

“Right now? You need my help right this second?”

“Yes.” The bagel popped up in the toaster and I stood up and walked back into the kitchen.

I buttered the bagel and brought it over to Will. “Here you go.” I thrust the plate in his direction.