Rivera had been cultivating a number of leads in the community, primary among them the middle three Rose girls. Pearl, it turned out, owned the quilting shop. A whole army of women came to Fat Quarters whenever they could spare an hour to work on whatever project they had going, and Pearl Rose was the queen of all that.

“So what’s the buzz?”

“While I was there, Pearl told them all about what happened to John, and then when she turned her back, everybody tried to figure out what she really meant but was too embarrassed to say directly.”

“Maybe you should be hanging out at the Hound Dog. Tony was down there yesterday and heard that John lost a testicle.”

Rivera said, “They’ve got better-looking women at Fat Quarters. Which you’d know if you’d take a break. Come into town with me today, we’ll stop by the Piggly Wiggly. Miss Maddie does a lot of her shopping there, you know. There’s a world of wisdom in watching her pick out peaches.”

“I’ll put it on the list,” said Angie. And, a little wistfully: “I wish some of Miss Maddie would rub off on you. You shouldn’t be spreading rumors. Bad juju.”

“You are such a fake,” Rivera said, laughing. “You’d go crazy wondering if you didn’t have us to bring you the news. He’s fine, you know. Eunice says so.”

“So are you best friends now with all the Rose girls?”

“According to Eunice,” Rivera repeated, pointedly ignoring Angie’s tone, “John only needed three stitches, no infection. It was way too close for comfort, but no lasting damage.”

“Good for John,” Angie said.

Rivera said, “Good for Caroline Rose.” And laughed again at the small, tight smile that was all the answer Angie could summon.

Angie thought a lot about Caroline Rose, for reasons she didn’t want to examine too closely. Caroline was tall, elegant, silver blond, immaculately groomed and dressed. She had turned out to be not only John’s fiancée and colleague but Miss Zula’s unofficial assistant in all things. There was no avoiding her, and, worse luck, no way to dislike her, either.

Early in the morning of another day that promised to be scorching hot, Angie sat by the river and contemplated the vagaries of fate that had brought her to this place at this particular point in time, when John was about to get married. Angie crossed her arms over her upraised knees and rested her forehead on the cool skin of her forearms and thought about the fix she was in. The truth was, she would have paid pretty much any price to get back her peace of mind and a few hours of sound sleep. It was becoming increasingly obvious that she’d have to take the first step, find John, and lay down some ground rules, get things said and out of the way.