Alan was single. Judith was single. So why were they keeping their affair a secret, having a midnight rendezvous in a barn? I tucked that question away, determined to find the answer later.

“Last night, Marion, you were about to tell me something important about Feed the Need. About the company? You said Wendell had concerns?”

Marion glanced around then lowered her voice.

“I don’t know much,” she said. “But I do know Wendell was very upset about certain financial matters there. If you’re looking for his killer, you might turn your attention in that direction.”

I sat back in my chair and looked at her, wondering if she was insinuating something about her own son. He was, after all, the head of Feed the Need.

“You started to say something about the money I came here to deliver,” I said softly. “The loan from the J.O.S.H.U.A. fund?”

Marion nodded.

“I know that loan was extremely important to Wendell, that the J.O.S.H.U.A. money was his last desperate hope to put things right.”

I was about to question her further when we heard the sound of childish laughter coming down the hall. Marion’s face suddenly lit up, and she turned in her seat just as a young boy bounded into the room, followed by Sidra. As he came in, I was struck not just by his enthusiasm, but also by his sheer physical beauty. About 11 or 12 years old, he was a gorgeous child, with what was obviously his mother’s dark eyes and hair and perfect olive skin.

“Carlos!” Marion cried happily as the child came to her and gave her a hug.

“Gosh, where is everybody?” he said, dropping a big backpack and sleeping roll on the floor. “I gotta show you what I got.”

He bent down to dig in the backpack, and Marion glanced at me with a wink.

“Carlos, you haven’t met our guest. This is Callie Webber, she’s—”

“Hi,” he said, flashing me a friendly grin, cutting her off. “Here it is!”

From the bag, he pulled a small trophy, a wood-based golden statue of a young man holding up a soccer ball.

“Second place,” he said. “Isn’t it cool?”

“Your mom must be so proud,” Marion said, glancing at Sidra and taking the trophy from Carlos. She studied it carefully.

“You get to keep the team’s trophy?” I asked.

“Nah,” he answered enthusiastically. “The team got a giant one, to go in the case in the front hall at school. The players each got these little ones.”

He chattered on, and I realized suddenly that he hadn’t yet heard the news that his grandfather was dead. I could see a somber look come back into Marion’s eyes, and I knew she, too, was hesitant to destroy the happiness of this ebullient child.

“Is that a soccer star I hear in there?” Derek called excitedly from the hallway, and then he was in the room with Carlos in his arms. I took a final bite of my muffin, then pushed away from the table.