“Good.” The caseworker took Toni into the bathroom for a brief photo session, then packed up her forms and her notes. “I’m going to go next door and talk to your neighbor, and send the kids back here to you. If she’s willing, she can be the one you run to if he does get violent. If that happens, don’t argue with him, don’t stand there, just run; tell your kids that if they hear a fight starting, they need to run. If your neighbor agrees, she’ll lock the door after you and call 9-1-1 and one of our rescue people before he has a chance to get any worse.”

“I’ll come get her from next door as soon as the neighbor calls me,” Jennie put in hastily. “I think that will make the neighbor a little more willing.”

Toni cast her a look of pure gratitude, and the caseworker stuffed all of her things into her bag and left, letting herself out the front door. Jennie reached over and patted her shoulder. “I’ve done this before, you know,” she said, conversationally. “Toni, you’re handling this as well as anyone could expect, and better than I would. I think you’re going to be all right.”

Toni dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “I—I don’t know if I am or not,” she replied, an edge of desperation in her voice. “I just know that—that this can’t go on anymore.”

Jennie slid into the place that the caseworker had left vacant, and David came to stand beside her, one hand on her shoulder. She wasn’t certain what to say next; guilt was replacing her outrage again, and she looked up to see that David was studying Toni’s face, her frightened, haunted eyes.

“Tell her, Jen,” he said, suddenly. “Tell her about the spirits, the mi-ah-luschka.”

“Now?” she replied, taken by surprise.

Toni Calligan stopped dabbing her eyes for a moment, to fix both of them with a troubled and puzzled look. “Spirits?” she said, falteringly, then blurted out, “You mean—like the Indian ghosts you told me about?”

David and Jennie traded another glance; then Jennie took a deep breath, and began.

“What David wants me to tell you about—involves something that your husband might have done—”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

TO JENNIE’S INTENSE relief, Toni Calligan listened quietly to her halting explanation of the looted gravesite, the Little People, their burning desire for revenge, and how she and her children might have become targets for that revenge. She had been afraid that, even if Toni was in a receptive frame of mind, she still would not believe. But her words fell on ears that were ready to hear them, and the explanations met with nods and worried frowns.