She turned the key in the ignition, listening for the comforting purr of the motor. The engine gave a sputter, a grinding sound and then stopped. Nothing. She tried again. She couldn’t have stalled it. But there was still nothing. The engine was dead.
It was pointless to keep turning the key. Fumbling for her cell phone, she tried to come up with the most sensible course of action. If she called the auto club, they’d undoubtedly send someone out from Williamsport, a good thirty miles away, and she’d be stuck here for an hour. She could try one of the people who’d been at the meeting, but they wouldn’t be home yet, and she suspected none of them were entered on her cell phone. If Dixie weren’t babysitting—
A sharp rap on the window next to her sent her heart jolting into overdrive. She turned to see Jason Glassman peering in at her, his strong-featured face an ominous mask in the dim light.
“Trouble?” He raised an eyebrow, giving his face a hint of caricature, and she was swept with a feeling that trouble was exactly what the man represented.
JASON TILTED HIS face to the available light, making sure the Morris woman recognized him. With a slight nod, Deidre lowered the window manually, apparently deciding he was trustworthy.
She was wrong. Her car wasn’t starting because he’d made sure it wouldn’t. Nothing serious. A mechanic would spot the loose connection in thirty seconds, but he was banking on Deidre not even looking under the hood.
“My car is dead.” She glanced at her watch. “I can’t imagine what’s wrong.”
He shrugged. “I’m not much of a mechanic, but I’ll be glad to wait with you while you call your garage. Or my car is here, and I can easily take you home.”
Now she managed a smile. “The garage will have closed at five, and nothing short of a three-car pileup would get George Frazer away from his television at this hour. If you’re sure you don’t mind...” Deidre was already opening the door.
“Not at all. We’re neighbors, aren’t we?” So easy. She didn’t suspect a thing. Too bad the drive was so short, but at least he’d have some chance of talking with her. “I’m parked out front.”
They walked together along the alley toward the street, their footsteps echoing on the concrete. Shadows lay around the building, and it surprised him that Deidre didn’t seem warier. Maybe small-town living deadened the instincts.
“I appreciate the offer. It’s certainly time I relieved my babysitter.”
“Teenagers always have the meter ticking, I suppose,” he said lightly, wondering who watched the judge’s grandson when she wasn’t there.
“It’s not that. A friend of mine is staying with my son. I hate to call a teenage sitter on a school night, especially when I think a meeting might be lengthy.”
They’d reached his car, and he opened the passenger-side door so she could slide in, then went around quickly to get in and start the car. “It wasn’t my imagination then. It did go on and on.”
“And on,” she said, amusement in her voice. “I’m afraid it wasn’t a very good introduction for you. But typical. Everyone has to have their say.”
“Even if someone else has already said it.” He slanted a smile at her.
“Especially if someone has already said it. No one wants somebody else claiming credit for his or her good idea. I have a theory that the amount of work that gets done is in inverse proportion to the number of people on the committee.”
He had to laugh at Deidre’s dry tone.
“I shouldn’t laugh at them,” she said, shaking her head. “They all mean well. I just hate keeping Dixie out late, even though she insists she doesn’t mind.”
“Dixie?” The name rang a bell. “I think there’s a Dixie in my building.”
“The same one. Dixie James. We’ve been friends since kindergarten, although she just moved back to Echo Falls a couple of years ago. Speaking of which, I hope you’re settling in all right.” She sounded like a good hostess, checking on a guest’s comfort.
All in all, he was beginning to wonder if Deidre Morris, with her honey-colored hair and candid blue eyes, wasn’t just a little too good to be true.
He suspected a show of candor on his part would win her sympathy. “I don’t know if I should bring it up, but I hope...well, I hope it doesn’t bother you that I seem to be taking your late husband’s position in the firm.”
Jase didn’t think he imagined a hesitation before she spoke.
“Not at all. I know the firm needed another person. Trey Alter’s been overworked, especially during the times when court is in session and the judge is unavailable.”
That last bit sounded a tad formal. He should have asked the judge what his current relationship was with his daughter-in-law. If they were in a state of open warfare, he’d have to step cautiously.
He’d been wondering if he should mention her husband or play dumb. But anyone might let it slip that they’d been in law school together. Better play it safe.
“I was sorry to hear about Frank’s death. I noticed it in the alumni newsletter. Guess I should have sent a card, but...well, you wouldn’t have known who I was.”
She turned in the seat to look at him. “Were you a friend of Frank’s?” So that had caught her attention.
“A classmate. I was working too hard to have much time to socialize. But he was a nice guy.”
“Yes, he was.” She didn’t sound overtly mournful, but it had been about a year, and she was probably used to dealing with condolences by now. “When you see our son, Kevin, I think you’ll notice the resemblance.” She was smiling now, maybe at the thought of the kid. “At least, I always thought he looked like Frank, although Frank didn’t agree.”
“Frank thought he looked like you, did he?”
“He claimed Kev was Pennsylvania Dutch through and through. That’s my side of the family, the Wagners. You’ll have to get used to all the German-sounding names in an area like this, especially with the number of Amish we have.”
She was talking more easily now. He’d made some progress, despite the fact that they were pulling up to the house already. She’d feel as if she owed him a favor, and that would make it easier to pursue an acquaintanceship that the judge seemed to feel would pay off.
Jase drove past his own driveway and turned into hers. “I’ll drop you right at the house. No point in walking across the lawn in the dark.”
“You don’t need...” Deidre stopped, staring.
He followed the direction of her gaze, and his nerves went on alert. The front door of her house stood open. That couldn’t be normal.
Deidre grabbed for the door handle, and his hand shot across to arrest the movement.
“Stay here. Call the police. I’ll check it out.” He slid out of the car, not looking back to see if she’d obeyed him. Something was wrong, and there was a defenseless child in that house.
It took him seconds to reach the porch. Deidre was right behind him, and he didn’t waste his breath telling her to stay back. They hit the doorway at the same time, and he grabbed her arm, stopping her from plunging inside.
His gut clenched. A woman lay on the area rug in front of a sofa, blood from