“And your head?” I asked. “Firmly in place?”

“We can go back.”

Nosing my way into the line had taken minutes. I wasn’t about to nose my way back out. “Take this.” The rain wasn’t letting up, so I stripped off my windbreaker, wiggling my way out without removing the seat belt. “This will keep you dry for the trip inside. I’ll get your backpack and drop it off as soon as I can.”

“But my homework and lunch ticket are inside.”

I admired her whining, which was a step up from sullen silence. “I’m sure you’re sorry you forgot them. But hopefully I’ll be back before lunch.” I intended to come back the moment I was sure the line at the curb had disappeared. But why let her off the hook so easily?

“I don’t know why we can’t go back now.”

“Because Noelle would be late for no good reason. And that wouldn’t be fair.”

“She’s only in first grade!”

“And aren’t we proud of her for being right on time today?”

We’d arrived at the drop-off point. I pivoted in my seat and made shooing motions. “I’ll be back. You two have a good day.”

Holly threw the door open. At least she slipped my windbreaker around her shoulders. I watched them both disappear up the walkway.

My plan for the morning included a trip to visit my parents. I wanted to casually mention New Mexico to my father, and I had the perfect excuse to visit. I had promised my mother I’d check a nearby natural foods store to see if it carried vegan-friendly items she hadn’t been able to find. But first I made a detour back to the town house.

When I arrived, a pickup truck was parked on the street several houses away. Someone was probably getting repairs made before the season, which meant with luck, we’d soon have neighbors. Since I had to get out of the car anyway to punch in the garage door code, I parked in the driveway and skidded through puddles to the front door, which was protected by the master bedroom sundeck.

I stopped to get my key and was just taking in the fact that something was different about the door, when I heard a rustling from the podocarpus trees looming beside the porch. I turned as a figure in jeans and a dark hoodie launched itself in my direction. I didn’t have time to scream. I threw up my hands and threw myself forward to keep from being knocked over. As I did I registered two things. One, that even though the person was tall and slim, the build was too heavy and broad-shouldered to be a woman. And two, that the “something different” were pry marks along the seam where the double doors met.

The man swiped my hands away and shoved me hard, grabbing for my keys as I fell backward. Once I landed on my butt, I clamped my fingers around them and lifted my feet, kicking hard in his direction and aiming for the spot where a kick would do the most good. He swiveled to one side and then, enraged, threw a punch toward my shoulder. The air moved as his fist grazed my shirt, but the punch missed because I had already rolled away. Now I dove for the front door. He tried to grab my feet, but I kicked out at him again, and then one more time when he dropped the only one he’d managed to get a grip on.