Maybe she didn’t. Maybe Rod Calligan didn’t permit her to have friends. After all, friends would take time away from cleaning and housekeeping. Friends might give her something to think about besides her husband.

“I just don’t know that much about Rod’s company, Jennie,” Toni said, somewhat wistfully, as she passed over the newly filled cup. When “Antonia” became “Toni,” Jennifer had, of course, become “Jennie.” “I wish I did, I really don’t feel as if I’m being much help to you.”

Jennie had the uncanny feeling of being a mind reader, even though her Medicine talents did not lie at all in that direction; she knew exactly what had put that wistful tone in Toni Calligan’s voice. It was simple; Toni wanted her company, wanted her to stay around. The less Toni knew, the sooner Jennie would leave, because Jennie obviously wouldn’t stay just to keep Toni company.

“Actually, I’m not so much looking for hard information as you might think, Toni,” Jennie assured her, feeling obscurely sorry for the woman. “Your husband told the company I’m working for that there were people making threats before and after the bombing. You’ve probably heard who those people were supposed to be—mostly Native American groups. What I’m looking for is a feeling of something a little off—if you remember noticing things being strange around that time period. For instance, one thing I’d like to know is if you remember any odd phone calls coming to the house this spring and summer?”

“Oh, no threats!” Toni exclaimed, immediately, brightening a little because she at least had some information, even if it was negative. “No one called here with any threats—or at least they didn’t call the house line. Rod has a private line for business in his office, of course. I wouldn’t know if he got any threatening calls on that line, although he didn’t act as if there was anything different going on. He was tense, but not the way he’d be if there was anyone threatening him.”

And how I’d love to get into that office, Jennie thought, greedily. If there are any deep, black secrets about Rod Calligan, that’s where they’ll be, I’ll bet.

Grandfather was right about one thing, at least; something was protecting Rod Calligan. Here she was, mere feet away from that office, yet she might just as well have been thousands of miles away. She was unable to sense anything there; it was a complete blank in the middle of the otherwise ordinary house.

She would have given her hopes of ever being a pipe-bearer for the key to that office or the chance to get inside.

But the possibility of that, at least at the moment, was pretty remote.