They did need to go see Miss Maddie, but everything in Angie resisted the idea of venturing out into the heat; she was tired and tense, wound up and ill at ease; she wanted to go find John—whether to throttle him or climb on top of him, she wasn’t quite sure. She said, “We really need to get on with this—” She lifted her chin toward the tapes stacked up on the table.

On his way out Tony stooped and whispered in her ear. “The couch is comfortable if you need to get some sleep while we’re gone. You look like you could use it.”

The lopsided budget John had inherited from his predecessor was the exactly the distraction he needed: numbers didn’t shimmy sideways once you got hold of them, and problems could be solved. The whole process was soothing, almost as good as an hour on the river, but without the sweat. He had just said as much to Rob when there was a knock at the door and the elder four Rose sisters came in, with Patty-Cake bringing up the rear.

John said, “You’ve got to be joking.”

Patty-Cake held herself very erect, her mouth pursed. “I told them that Caroline would be calling.”

Rob started to say something, but he let it go when John held up a hand to stop him.

“So what is it you plan to do, may I ask? Hijack the conversation, or monitor it, or what?”

Connie made a clucking sound with her tongue. “Don’t be silly, John. We’re just worried about her.”

“That doesn’t answer his question, though,” said Eunice. “I told you he’d be put out, and he’s got every right.”

“Well, excuse me for being worried about my baby sister,” said Harriet. Of the four of them, she looked the angriest, peevish and defensive. Pearl put an arm around her shoulders.

“John, this is hard for us, too.” Connie said. “Mama’s on her way back home from the lake with Father Bruce, and what will we tell her if Caroline hasn’t come back by then?”

“We do need to talk to her,” Eunice said, her tone apologetic.

They went on like this for a while, a Greek chorus of woe and worry, while Patty-Cake stood with her arms crossed, watching John. He gave her a look he hoped she understood. It said, I’m going to find a way to fire you for this. She gave him one back that said, Bring it on.

Then the phone rang. John punched the line button and picked it up.

“John Grant.”

“Sugar, where do you keep the gin? I know it’s just past noon, but Sam and I—”

“Mama,” John said, “I’m waiting for an important phone call. Can I get back to you?”

“All I need to know—”