“We’re going to take a ride in a police car, Haley,” Anne said. “That’ll be fun.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Anne said, “if you finish your breakfast and brush your teeth and get dressed, the deputy will take us out to your auntie Milo’s ranch to see your kitties.”

Haley lit up at that.

That was the end of the bad attitude.

Vince went off to the hospital to see if Gina Kemmer would give them more revelations as she regained her strength.

Anne dressed in jeans and an oversize blue flannel shirt, accommodating both her stiffness and her bandages, and brushed her hair back into a ponytail. She put Haley in bib overalls, a little turtleneck, and pigtails, and off they went to the country.

The day was beautiful, as was the drive through the valley to the Bordains’ ranch. Anne and Haley sat together in the backseat of the radio car, behind the cage like a couple of common criminals.

Haley looked out the windows. “This is the way to my house,” she said. “Do you think if we went to my house my mommy would be there?”

“No, sweetheart. Your mommy is an angel in heaven, remember? Do you think your kitties will be excited to see you?”

She nodded and played with the stuffed cat Milo Bordain had given her, practicing her meowing.

When they pulled into the Bordain yard and parked, Haley couldn’t get out of the car fast enough. Milo stood waiting for them, dressed in riding breeches and a hacking jacket, every hair perfectly in place.

Haley ran toward her. “Where’s my kitties? Where’s my kitties?”

“How about a hello for your auntie Milo first,” Anne said.

“Helloauntiemilo, where’s my kitties?”

Milo Bordain smiled one of her very practiced committee-chairwoman smiles. “Anne, I’m so glad you decided to bring Haley. I’ve missed her so much!” She bent over, trying to get Haley’s attention. “I’ve missed you so much, Miss Haley!”

Haley scowled. “Where’s my kitties!!”

“Haley,” Anne warned. “No bad attitude or we go home.”

“The cats are in the barn,” Bordain said, defusing the moment by leading the way.

Tucked back against the hills, the ranch was like something from a magazine. Every inch of it was landscaped for effect with old climbing roses and white potato vines and purple morning glories dripping from fences and arbors. Pepper trees and huge spreading oaks studded the property. Flower beds full of pansies edged the paths and outbuildings. Beautiful gray horses with long flowing manes and tails grazed in green paddocks. Colorful chickens hunted and pecked, scattered around the setting like the perfect farmyard accessories.

“This is absolutely beautiful,” Anne said.