“I could go for some cider, thanks,” Linnie said.

“Water, please.” Caleb cleared his throat. “Just water sounds great, thank you.” The dog tried to join him on the couch, and with a squawk of alarm, Caleb pushed him back down to the floor. “Stay.”

“Maggie?”

She indicated her coffee cup. “I’m good.” As her dad left the room, she rolled her shoulders and neck and yawned. “I am beat.” She threw herself into the other armchair. “Can’t imagine how tired you must be, Caleb, doing all that driving. I really appreciate it.” Fluffster wandered over and snuffled her outstretched hand, and she stroked his neck.

“Oh, no—no, no, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

Linnie snorted. “Water. Must. Have. Water.”

He glared at her. “I’m thirsty.”

She smiled slyly and peeked Maggie’s way, as if to include her in on the joke.

Maggie stared at her blankly. What?

When her father came back with the drinks, he briefly halted just inside the living room, as if struck by a sudden thought.

Linnie accepted her drink with a murmured thanks; Caleb, with more of a strangled sound. And when Dad situated himself at the other end of the couch, Maggie was shocked by his expression. He leaned back and, in a sidelong way, observed Caleb darkly.

Caleb held the glass close to his red face, then abruptly took a sip of water. “Tastes good.”

“What flavor is it?” Linnie asked.

He gave her a dirty look.

“So.” Dad folded his arms. “Make decent time getting here?”

Maggie nodded slowly, bewildered by his tone. “Six and a half hours.”

“Sounds like you were speeding.”

“No, no, not at all,” Caleb said, patting his flushed face with the glass. The ice cubes clinked. “We didn’t hit much traffic.”

“Hmm.” Dad narrowed his eyes.

Maggie shook her head. What the hell? “We skipped lunch, too.”

Her father straightened and said in a friendlier voice, “You must be starving.”

“A little,” Maggie admitted. But with Mom gone, they’d have to cook something for themselves. Dad was useless in the kitchen.

“I was just about to have a bowl of cereal, but we could order a pizza.”

“Cereal’s fine,” Caleb said. “Sir.”

Linnie snickered.

Maggie sighed. She was too tired and stressed out to deal with these bizarre tensions. She hadn’t talked to Jane yet. And she hadn’t talked to Mom yet. Besides finally confronting Sara (which, now that she thought about it, had felt pretty cathartic), she’d done little more than knock on doors today. “Actually, I think we’ll head to town and get something.” To her friends: “Does that work for you?”

“Definitely.” Caleb stood quickly. But when his dog rose, his obvious relief vanished. He slapped his forehead. “What about Fluffster?”

“I’ll watch him.” Her father pulled out his wallet. “Here, sweetie.” He passed her a few bills. “Supper’s on me.”