“Fine,” I said. “But just the library—not Michael’s office, which is where we’ve hidden all the Christmas presents. Except for yours, which are somewhere else entirely and already wrapped,” I added.

“Of course, dear.” Mother was almost purring. “I wouldn’t think of peeking. I’ll be over in half an hour or so to make sure everything’s ready.”

“Surely you weren’t planning to start tonight?” I asked. “Won’t a lot of people want to be at the concert?”

“We’re starting bright and early at eight tomorrow,” Mother said. “For those who aren’t attending early services, of course; they can come later.”

“Why don’t I just make sure all our stuff is out of the library when I get home?” I asked. “I’ll be there soon.”

“That would be perfect, dear,” Mother said. “And I’ll see to the decorations,” she added.

“‘Decorations’? Mother, you already decorated our house weeks ago—remember?”

“Yes, dear,” she said. “But that was weeks ago. Things might need a little sprucing up. And back then I was just decorating for you—not for the Ladies’ Auxiliary and St. Clotilda’s. See you soon.”

With that she hung up.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out what feats of decorating Mother was capable of when she was trying to impress not one but two church women’s groups. At least between my bruised shoulder, my job as location tsarina, and most important, Michael and the boys, I’d have plenty of very valid excuses to avoid getting involved if Mother tried to enlist my help.

I ducked back inside. In my haste to remove my offending phone from choir practice, I’d left my purse, my coat, and the tote containing my laptop in the pew where I’d been sitting. I slipped into the sanctuary and collected my gear. Lightfoot was so busy yelling at the baritones for sloppy enunciation that he didn’t notice my arrival.

As I was about to leave, I realized I hadn’t collected the hard copy of the latest schedule from my printer. I plodded down the dark little hallway to my temporary office. I unlocked my door, went in, and closed it after me, because I suddenly felt a little light-headed and didn’t want anyone to see me wilt into my desk chair.

Definitely time to go home and rest. Past time. And maybe a good time to take that next dose of the tranquilizer after all. I set down my tote and began to rummage through it one-handed for the water bottle I usually kept there.

Then I heard a noise from the office next door. From Riddick’s office. Which had been closed when I walked down the hall, with no line of light under the doorway.