“Well,” said Trixie, “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I think, the way my life seems to be going lately, one threat just gets replaced by another. The thing is, I could never be any better a mother to her than my sister has been.”

And some of the fear bled away from Claire’s face. Maybe this was best for her, that her sister have a life of uncertainty, so that she could keep raising Katie in relative normalcy.

Trixie tapped my arm. “Let’s you and me take a walk. Claire, you okay for dinner, I take a walk with Zack?”

“Sure, go ahead. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

Trixie motioned for me to follow her out the front door, onto the porch. We leaned against the posts that straddled the steps. I chose the one I’d not whacked my head against. We crossed our arms and looked at each other.

“I’m glad you found me,” Trixie said.

“I’m a regular Sherlock,” I said.

“Didn’t even need Lawrence’s help,” she said. “You’re good.”

“I hate to call him for everything.”

“Come on.” We went down the steps, walked around the house and toward the barn. As we passed it, I saw my car, the Virtue, parked around back, where it couldn’t be seen from the highway.

“That car of yours,” Trixie said, “has been nothing but a pain in the ass.”

“I’m sorry. I never would have let you steal it had I known. Yours, by the way, has been trouble-free, despite your bundle of recall notices.”

Trixie made a face that said Go figure. She pointed to mine and said, “Sometimes you try to start it, it won’t go.”

“It hasn’t been doing that for a long time. I thought it was all fixed. I’ll have to get it looked at.”

“Good on gas, though,” she said.

Two dirt ruts with a strip of grass down the middle carried on beyond the barn and into the field. I took the left rut, Trixie the right.

“How’s Sarah?” she asked.

I grimaced. “Things could be better.”

“How much of it’s my fault?”

I appeared to be doing calculations in my head. “I was going to say about seventy-five percent, but that’s not fair. The fault is all mine. I have to accept responsibility for the decisions I’ve made, including those to help you.”

“But those are the ones that have landed you in the doghouse.”

I smiled. “Pretty much.”

“I’ve told you more than once that Sarah’s lucky to have you, even though, at times, I’d have to concede, you are a bit of an asshole.”

“Yeah, well, all the polling we’ve done would seem to indicate that.”

We walked a bit further, and I stopped and looked back at the house in the distance, so tranquil.