Sweet memories washed over me at the sound of Jolie’s no-nonsense voice. My life changed for the better when I was thirteen, and Jolie was a major factor in the turnaround. Lillian met Jolie’s dad, Michael “Ham” Hamilton, a recently widowed security guard, in Ventura Beach, California. They’d fallen madly in love, and Lillian had finally settled down. There was never a wedding, as far as I know, but Lillian took Ham’s last name, and it was definitely a good match. Jolie hadn’t accepted Lillian, Greer and me right away, but in time we’d melded into a family.

Lillian had loved Ham so much that, when he’d decided to take a job in Phoenix, she’d willingly followed him. Jolie, Greer and I had all come along, of course, though Lillian had insisted on home schooling Greer and me. I don’t know if she ever told Ham the whole truth, or any part of it. I do know that she was happy with him, and when he died nearly a decade into their relationship, she went on the emotional skids.

“Hell-ooo,” Jolie prompted.

I laughed. “Don’t hang up,” I said. “It’s Mojo.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t slam this phone down in your ear,” Jolie shot back. “I haven’t had so much as an e-mail from you in three weeks.”

“I’m heading down that way, and I’d like to see you.”

“Really?” Jolie sounded pleased. “You wouldn’t jerk a girl around, would you?”

“It’s for real. I’m sorry about the e-mails—I’ve just been…well…distracted.”

“By what?” Jolie demanded suspiciously.

“Things,” I said evasively. “I’ll tell all when I get there, I promise.”

“Freakin’ A,” said Jolie.

“I have some business to attend to tonight, and you’ve got work in the morning. How about tomorrow night?”

“I’ll even change the sheets on the hide-a-bed,” Jolie said, with one of her rich laughs. Jolie’s voice matched her dark-chocolate skin. She was smart as hell and beautiful enough to be a model or a TV star. If she hadn’t worked an average of eighteen hours a day, she’d have had men making pilgrimages to her door on their knees.

“Anybody sharing your bed these days?” I ventured hopefully.

Jolie’s sigh was telling. “No. How about you?”

“Tucker and I are on hiatus.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she agreed skeptically.

I let that one pass. “It’s really okay for me to crash at your place? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Jolie gave a snort. “Just don’t sneak off in the middle of the night, like you did last time. I swear, Mojo, sometimes I think you turn into a she-wolf at the full moon, or something.”