Why would he share his feelings with her? She had been his teacher all of two months. From what she had observed of Tommy, he was by nature reserved. He was very bright but did nothing to call attention to himself. If anything he seemed to do his best to be invisible.

Anne wondered why. She had met his parents. His father, the dentist, was charming and outgoing. His mother was a little intense but had seemed nice enough at conference time. She was proud of her son’s talents and academic abilities. She sold real estate and served on charity committees. The Cranes were the All-American Yuppie Family.

They lived four blocks from the Morgans in a beautiful two-story Spanish-style stucco house with lush landscaping and a big spreading oak tree in the side yard. As daylight faded, lights glowed invitingly in the front windows and along the sidewalk.

Through one window Anne could see Janet Crane in a fuchsia suit, pacing, speaking into a portable phone.

Tommy got out of the car and lingered by the door. Anne reached out her hand to him, and he took it. He hung on a little too tightly as they went up the sidewalk together.

The door flew open before they made it to the front steps. Janet Crane’s eyes were a little too wide, the white showing all around the pupils.

“Where have you been?” she demanded, her fierce look on Tommy. “I have been out of my mind trying to find you! You knew you had a piano lesson—”

“Mrs. Crane—,” Anne started.

“Don’t you have any consideration for Mr. England’s time? For my time?”

“Mrs. Crane,” Anne said more firmly. “Didn’t you get my message?”

Janet Crane looked at her as if she had only just appeared. “Message? What message? I haven’t listened to the messages. I’ve been trying to find my son.”

“Could we step inside, please?” Anne asked.

Tommy’s mother took a deliberate breath and calmed herself. “Of course. I’m so sorry. Please come in, Miss Navarre.”

Tommy still clung to Anne’s hand as they went into the foyer. His eyes were on the Mexican tile floor. No warm hugs from Mom. No concern for his welfare. Concern for the piano teacher.

Anne leaned down beside him. “Tommy, why don’t you go wash up while I talk to your mom?”

He went across the hall and disappeared into a powder room with wildly colored parrots splashed across the yellow wallpaper.

“I’m sorry,” Janet Crane said. “I’ve been out of my mind with worry. It isn’t like Tommy to miss a piano lesson. He’s always very punctual.”