“I’m going to find out exactly where she is and what’s going on before I bother him.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper that I had written Holden Crawford’s address and phone number on. “How far is it to Steele?”

“I can show you.” I opened the atlas and pointed to Steele. “It’s on Chandler Mountain.”

“That’s not that close to Gadsden,” he said. “Maybe it’s not the right Holden Crawford.”

“The computer lists it in the Gadsden area, Luke. And Holden Crawford isn’t a common name. I’ll bet it’s him.”

He pushed his chair back. “Well, it’s not but about an hour’s drive. I guess I’d better go check it out.”

Not but about. Two weeks of communicating with gestures and simple words in Warsaw and I’m drowning in extra words.

“Wait, Luke,” I said. “You don’t know where you’re going and you don’t want to be wandering around up there on those dark mountainous roads. Besides, you’re tired. Keep calling, and if you still don’t get an answer, I’ll ride up there with you in the morning.”

He looked at me doubtfully.

“A good supper and a good night’s sleep, and you’ll feel a lot better.”

And so would I. My body was still halfway across the Atlantic.

“Okay. I’ll try to call again in a few minutes.”

What had I let myself in for?

The back door opened and Mary Alice stuck her head in.

“I forgot my gloves.”

“Did you take Debbie her testicle?”

“She wasn’t at home.”

“It’s a miracle I didn’t get arrested.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. The customs folks gave you one look and said, ‘Welcome home, Miss Honest Citizen.’” She stepped into the kitchen and closed the door.

“Testicle?” Luke asked.

“It’s a long story. Get Mary Alice to explain it to you.” I got up, put on my coat, and went to take Woofer for a walk. The cold air felt wonderful.

Fred, Luke, and I had waffles and turkey bacon for supper. We ate in the den in front of the fire while Fred listened carefully to the story of the missing Virginia. Too carefully, I realized, when I heard a slight snore from his corner of the sofa. Luke, however, didn’t seem to notice that he had lost half his audience. He kept talking while I collected the plates and put a pillow under Fred’s head. He was still talking nonstop an hour and a half later, God knows about what, when I got Fred up and took him off to bed. I was beginning to understand why Virginia had skedaddled off with the soffit painter.

“I’m going up to Steele in the morning with Luke,” I told Fred as I crawled in beside him. It was very late. At least 8:30.