“Sure I will. You’re not going to do something crazy, like move to the city?” He eased back to study her face. “Or fall in with bad companions and work in a strip mall gift shop?”

A lead weight landed—ka-boom—in her stomach. Those were the only two reasonable choices she had if she was going to make a living. But because he looked as if he might cry, she waved them away to bolster him. “Perish the thought. I don’t know what I’m going to do, exactly. But I’ve got this thing—” She thought of her odd evening, and the key. “I’ll tell you about it later. I’ve got something to keep me occupied for a while, then . . . I don’t know, Tod. Everything’s out of kilter.”

Maybe she was going to blubber a little after all. “Nothing’s the way it’s supposed to be, so I can’t see how it will be. Getting fired was not in the Malory Price Life Plan.”

“It’s just a blip,” he assured her. “James is in some sort of sexual haze. He could still come to his senses. You could sleep with him,” he added, inspired. “I could sleep with him.”

“I have one thing to say to both of those suggestions. Ick.”

“Profound, and true. How about if I come by tonight, bring you Chinese and a cheap bottle of wine?”

“You’re a pal.”

“We’ll plot Putrid Pamela’s demise and plan your future. Want me to walk you home, sweetie pie?”

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine. Give me time to clear my head. Say good-bye to . . . everybody. I just can’t face it now.”

“Don’t you worry.”

She tried not to worry as she walked home. She tried to ignore the panic that dogged her with every step she took away from routine and closer to that wide, wide canyon.

She was young, educated, hardworking. She had money in the bank. Her whole life was ahead of her, like blank canvas. All she had to do was choose her paints and get on with it.

But right now, she needed to think of something else. Anything else. She had a month to decide. And an intriguing task to perform in the meantime. It wasn’t every day you were asked to find a mysterious key and play a part in saving souls.

She would play along with that until she figured out the rest of her life. She’d given her word, after all, so she’d best get started on keeping it. Somehow. Right after she went home and buried her sorrows in a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.

As she came to the corner, she looked back, mistily, miserably, toward The Gallery. Who was she kidding? That had been home.

On a long sigh, she took a step. And landed hard on her butt.

Whatever had collided with her sent her box of possessions flying, then fell on top of her. She heard a grunt, and what sounded like a yip. With the breath knocked out of her, and what felt like a minor mountain pressing on her chest, she stared up into a hairy black face.