"I didn't hear you. I didn't hear anything but thunder," he said, quietly, walking over to her. Even in the dark, Jenny could see that his eyes were bright, watching her alertly. "I didn't scream. Are you sure you heard one? Maybe it was the wind. It had to be the wind."

"I already thought of that," Jenny snapped. "No, I'm not sure I heard a scream. But I'm not sure I didn't hear one, either." She shut her eyes and tried to bring the moment back. Yes. A shout, then a scream. Definitely. Why was David so eager to make her think it was the wind? Had he shpped and screamed in panic and was ashamed to say so? If that was it, then she'd gotten him all wrong.

David put a hand on her shoulder, but Jenny shrugged it off. She was glad he was all right, but she was too shaken up to be calm and cool. She'd spent the last half-hour being terrified, and the terror still hadn't completely faded. She took another look at the dripping bird's nest. 'Well, at least you completed your mission," she.remarked. "I'm sure you're happy about that."

"Jenny." David gave a helpless laugh. "I just found it, right when I was starting back for you. Come on, I know you were scared. I was, too, but it's over now. Let's go, okay?" He wiped the rain off his face and hunched his shoulders against the wind. "There's not going to be any cookout tonight, that's for sure. I'll take you home."

"Now, you're sure you know what to say to the painters?" Mrs. Fowler asked. She stopped poking around in her carry-all and glanced sharply at Jenny. "You've got the number where we're staying, in case there's any problem?"

Jenny nodded. "You left it next to every telephone in the house, remember?"

"Everything will be fine, Grace. Just fine." Mr. Fowler spoke heartily, but his eyes lingered on Jenny's face. "She's got the number, she's got the mutt, and we've got a plane to catch."

"Attention passengers," the announcer intoned. "Interstate Flight 473 is now boarding at Gate 4."

"That's us," Mr. Fowler said. He kissed Jenny on the top of her head, then picked up the two carry-

on cases. "See you in a few days, sweetie."

"Bye Dad. Have fun."

Jenny's mother gave her a hug. "We'll call tonight," she said. "And you be sure to call if. . ."

"I will." Jenny managed a laugh. "Don't worry. I'll handle the painters so well they'll move us to the top of their list and give us a rock-bottom price."

Her mother looked insulted. "I meant to call if you need us," she said. "I may sound like I care more about the painters than you, hut it's not true."

"Grace, we've still got the security gate to get through," Mr. Fowler interrupted.

"Go on, Mom." Jenny helped her mother hoist the canvas bag onto her shoulder and kissed her cheek. "Have a safe trip."