"Always."

"I tried to call you back yesterday, but you weren't there."

"I know. My mother sent me on about a thousand errands. Hey!" Sally peered into-the living room on the way to the kitchen. "That's a great view. Sort of makes you feel like you're all alone with nature."

"Don't remind me," Jenny said. She opened a box of Blueberry Pop Tarts and put two in the toaster. "I'm still trying to get used to how isolated this house is. The worst time is at night. It's hard getting to sleep with all the creepy noises I hear outside. And it's even worse now that my parents are gone."

"Yeah, I can tell by the shadows under your eyes," Sally said. "But I figured it was David who kept you up, not night noises."

Jenny smiled, but didn't answer. She didn't want to talk about David yet. "You want coffee?"

"Are you kidding?" Sally opened cabinets until she found juice glasses and took two out. "I'm hyper enough as it is. If I drink any coffee, I'll never stop talking, and then I'll never hear how it went with you and David."

Sally sure was persistent, Jenny thought. "Oh

..." she shrugged, still not wanting to talk about it. First she wanted to clear things up with David. She was saved from answering by the entrance of Peaches, who'd come downstairs to inspect the company. Sally went into raptures over the dog, who wriggled and wagged in ecstasy over all the attention. "She's a love. Kind of fat, though."

"Shh," Jenny whispered. "She's very sensitive about it."

They were just starting in on the Pop Tarts and orange juice when the phone rang. Jenny grabbed for it, but it was definitely not her admirer. "This is McPherson," a deep voice said. "Let me talk to Mrs. Fowler, please."

"She's not here," Jenny told him. "You're the painter, right?"

"Right, and who's this?"

"Jenny Fowler. Her daughter," she said. "Are you still coming tomorrow?"

**Well, yeah, I was just calling to confirm," he said. "Make sure somebody'd be there."

'Tine, well, they will," Jenny said. "I mean, I will."

"Not your folks?" he asked.

"My parents are out of town," Jenny said. "They asked me to show you what needs to be done."

He gave a low chuckle. "So, you're on your own, huh? All by your lonesome."

Jenny frowned at the phone. Was this guy for real? "You're coming tomorrow, then?" she asked coolly.

**0h, yeah." Another chuckle. "See you then, Miss Fowler."

Still frowning, Jenny hung up and told Sally about the man's comments. "Just what I need," she said. "A painter who thinks he's Don Juan."

"Gee, Jenny," Sally said. ^Why^d you tell him your parents were away? Don't you know you're not supposed to let people know you're alone?"

"Come on, I'm sure he's harmless." Jenny laughed, but she felt slightly uneasy. Admitting she was alone hadn't been very bright, she guessed, but she wished Sally hadn't brought it up. And why did Sally care? She'd broadcast Jenny's ^single' status to the entire group at the scavenger hunt.