Finally Jessica spotted the familiar car, Beth’s head visible in the front seat next to her father’s, and suddenly she remembered why he was late. Beth had demanded to be picked up at the junior high school on the other side of town so she wouldn’t have to walk home in her humiliating new marching band uniform.

“Oh, right,” Jess said, smiling. Her little sister was a majorette again.

She ran through the horde of cars, opened the door, and slid herself into the backseat.

Beth whirled around. “Not one word.”

Jessica smiled at her. “I was just going to say that you look ravishing in purple and gold.”

“Dad! She’s making fun of me!” She turned to him. “You said she wasn’t supposed to make fun of me!”

“Jess…”

“I just said ravishing. Ravishing is not a bad thing. Dad, explain to Beth how poor kids in Bangladesh would love to wear such a ravishing costume.”

“Stop talking about it, Jess!” Beth cried.

“Girls…” Don Day’s tone was still only vaguely threatening as he concentrated on guiding the car out of the traffic jam.

“Could you just ground her again and get it over with!” Beth shouted.

“Beth! That is so not cool!”

“Will both of you please be quiet!” their father pleaded. In an attempt to be scary he fixed Jessica with a stern look as he backed the car up into the clear, then put it into forward gear, and stared at Beth for a meaningful second before accelerating out onto the road.

Jessica settled back into her seat, unbeaten. “Anyway, I’m not even really grounded right now.”

“Yes, you are,” Beth said.

“Okay, I am.” Jessica waited for a moment, then played her final trump card. “So, Dad, you know my one night a week off from my grounding? Could I have it, say…tonight?” She sat back and smiled. Her parents had granted her this limited reprieve a few days after she’d been brought home by the police. One day a week—a solemn promise. It had been a little suspicious, Mom agreeing to change a punishment once it had been meted out, especially now that Jessica knew what Rex and Melissa could get up to with people’s minds.

But at the moment Jessica was willing to use the exception for all it was worth.

“That is so lame,” Beth said. “Dad, tell her that’s lame.”

“That is pretty lame, Jess.”

“But you said one day a week.”

“And you’ve taken four free days. And you were grounded a month, which is four weeks.”

Jessica’s jaw dropped open at this unjust change of definition. “But you said, and I quote, ‘Thirty days hath—’”

“That’s enough, Jessica.” His voice had suddenly moved to fully threatening mode. “Or September will have sixty days this year.”

Jessica swallowed. For once, he sounded like he really meant it.

Beth turned from the front seat and gave Jessica a worried look, hostilities briefly suspended by their father’s outburst. Since coming to Bixby, Don Day had been jobless, a condition that had gradually turned into shiftless, then shirtless, and finally spineless. It had been a while since he’d gotten up the energy to raise his voice.