That was a facetious thought of course. If there had been anything that big in town, she’d have known about it weeks ago.

The drive out to the Springs was uneventful; sunset brought cooler temperatures, and she was able to roll the windows down instead of using the A/C. Heat lightning flickered in the clouds overhead, illuminating them for a brief moment in a flash of orange. The color always made her think of orange sherbet, a childhood hangover from nights spent sitting out on the porch, watching the lightning and the lightning bugs, and sharing a bowl with one of the cats.

Her next target lived a little out of town on a county road, and as she neared the house, she knew that this man, at least, was not off somewhere. His driveway was full of cars and trucks, and his yard held the overflow. The little white frame house was lit up inside and out, and it was clear that the owner expected all this company.

As she pulled into the driveway and parked her car behind the last one in the line (a red pickup), she had a sinking feeling that now she knew where everyone on her list was. Someone had gotten wind of trouble, and this was how they were dealing with it.

Too bad her father hadn’t heard about this; it would have been nice to have had some warning.

Looks like I’ve walked right into a meeting, she thought grimly. And I don’t think it’s the Kiwanis or the Tulsa Pow Wow Club.

She turned off her car lights, and as she did so, she noticed the curtains at one of the lighted windows move.

I’d say I’ve just been spotted. Man—I wish I’d had some warning about this, though I guess if some of my buddies got blown up and people were looking for scapegoats, I’d get together with everyone else too. So I’ve got what, two dozen hostile people waiting in there? The prospect was not one she enjoyed. Still—on the bright side, it would save having to run them all down. And she could get all her rejections over with at once.

Aw guys, it would be so nice if you’d cooperate. It would look so much better on the report if you’d just play nice.… She squared her shoulders, put on her best professional manner, and opened the truck door.

As she came up the walkway and into the light from the porch lamps, she saw the curtains at the window move again, and a shadow move toward the door.

Here comes the welcoming committee.

Just as she reached the porch, someone opened the door and walked out to intercept her.

For a moment, a shock of recognition froze her.

He leaned up against the doorframe and crossed his arms, a sardonic expression—not quite a sneer—on his face.