“No.” The word trailed off on a wispy sob. “He’s going away forever and ever and ever.”

“Who told you that?”

“I heard him. They had a big fight, and they don’t love each other anymore, and he’s going away.”

So that’s what this was about. Steffie had overheard Tracy and Briggs fighting. Now what was he supposed to do? Hadn’t he read somewhere that you should help kids verbalize their feelings? “Bummer.”

“I don’t want him to go,” she said.

“I’ve just met your dad, so I don’t know him real well, but I can tell you this: He’d never leave you forever and ever.”

“He won’t leave at all if I get really lost. He’ll have to stay and look for me.”

Bingo.

She was a gutsy kid, he’d give her that. She was willing to face her worst fear to keep from losing her father. In the meantime, though, her parents were going crazy with worry. He wasn’t proud of himself, but it had to be done. “Don’t move! I see a giant poisonous spider!”

She hurled herself at him, and the next thing he knew, she was plastered against his chest, trembling all over, her clothes damp, bare legs icy. He pulled her into his lap and held her close. “It’s gone. I don’t think it was a spider. I think it was a dust ball.”

Little girls didn’t smell like big girls, he noticed. She smelled sweaty, but it wasn’t unpleasant, and her hair smelled like bubble-gum shampoo. He rubbed her arms, trying to get some warmth into her. “I tricked you,” he felt bound to confess. “There wasn’t really a spider, but your mom and dad are upset, and they need to see that you’re all right.”

She started to struggle a little then, but he kept rubbing her arms to calm her. At the same time he tried to figure out how Isabel would handle this. Whatever she said would be just right-sensitive, insightful, perfect for the occasion.

Screw it.

“Your plan sucked, Steffie. You couldn’t stay hidden forever, right? Sooner or later you’d have to get something to eat, and then you’d be right back where you started from.”

“I was worried about that.”

She relaxed a little, and he smiled over her head. “What you need is a new plan. One without so many loopholes. And the place to start is by telling your mom and dad what got you so bent out of shape.”

“I might hurt their feelings.”

“So what? They hurt your feelings, didn’t they? A word to the wise, kid: If you go through life trying not to hurt anybody’s feelings, you’ll turn into a big wimp, and nobody likes a wimp.” He could almost see Isabel frowning at him, but what the hell? She wasn’t here, and he was doing his best. Still, he offered an amendment. “I’m not saying you should hurt people on purpose. I’m just saying you have to fight for what’s important to you, and if somebody’s feelings get hurt in the process, that’s their problem, not yours.” Not much better, but it was the truth.

“They might get mad.”

“I didn’t want to mention this earlier, but frankly, I think your mom and dad are going to be mad anyway. Not at first. At first they’ll be so happy to see you they’re going to slobber all over you. But after that wears off-now, I’m just taking a guess here-after that I think you’re going to have to do some fancy footwork.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means being smart about how you handle yourself so you don’t get in too much trouble.”

“Like what?”

“Like… when they finally stop the slobbering, they’re going to start getting upset with you for running away, and that’s when you’re in the danger zone. You’re going to need to lay on the guilt about how you heard them fighting, and-this is the important part-while you’re doing that, you should probably cry a little and look pitiful. Can you do that?”

“I’m not sure.”

He smiled to himself. “Let’s go over to the door, where the light’s a little better, and I’ll show you. Is that okay?”

“Okay.”

He picked her up and carried her to the door. The toes of her sandals banged into his shins. She clung to his neck, too big to be carried but feeling the need. When they reached the door, he crouched down again, ignoring the mud to sit with her on his lap. It had stopped raining, and there was enough light to make out a very dirty, tear-streaked face and solemn, expressive eyes gazing at him as if he were Santa Claus. If she only knew.

“Okay, the idea here is to keep from getting grounded for the rest of your life, right?”

She nodded solemnly.

“So once they calm down, they’re going to decide they have to punish you to make sure you never do anything like this again.” He whipped her a lethal-weapon look. “And just so we’re clear, if you ever do decide to pull this crap again, I won’t be half as easy to manipulate as your parents, so you’d better promise me right now that you’ll figure out a smarter way to solve your problems.”

Another solemn nod. “I promise.”

“Good.” He pushed a little spike of hair away from her face. “When your parents start talking to you about taking the consequences for your actions, that means they’re thinking about punishment, so you have to start telling them about why you ran away. And make sure you don’t forget to say how bad it made you feel when you heard them fighting because, face it, that’s your ace in the hole. Naturally, talking about it is going to make you sad again, which is good, because you’re going to use that emotion to look as pitiful as you can. Got it?”

“Do I have to cry?”

“It wouldn’t hurt. Let me see how you’re going to do it. Give me a real pitiful look.”

She gazed up at him, all big sad eyes, just about the most pitiful thing he’d ever seen, except he realized she hadn’t started yet, and he nearly laughed as she screwed up her face, pinched her lips, and took a huge, dramatic snuffle.

“You’re overplaying your hand, kiddo.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Make it more real. Just think about something sad, like being locked in your room for the rest of your life with all your toys taken away, and let it come out on your face.”

“Or about having my daddy go away forever?”

“That should do it.”

She mulled it over for a minute, and before long she’d worked up some pretty good misery, complete with a lip quiver.

“Excellent.” He needed to put a quick end to the acting lesson before she got carried away. “Now give me a quick summary of the script so far.”

She dabbed at her nose with the back of a skinny arm. “If they start to get mad, I have to tell them about hearing them fighting and how I feel about Daddy leaving, even if it hurts their feelings. And I can cry when I tell them. I just think about something really sad, like my daddy going away, and look pitiful.”

“You got it. Gimme five.”

They smacked hands, she grinned, and it was like watching the sun come out.

As he led her by the hand through the wet grass up the hill, he remembered his earlier promise and grimaced. “You don’t still need to talk to Dr. Isabel, do you?” The last thing he wanted was for Reverend Feelgood to undermine all his hard work with what would surely be talk of honest repentance. Soon the lip quiver would be yesterday’s news.

“I think I’m okay now. But”-she gripped his hand a little tighter-“would you… Could you stay with me when I talk to them?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I think it is. If you stayed with me, you could, you know, look pitiful, too.”

“Everybody wants to direct.”

“What?”

“Trust me when I tell you that I’d only screw up your big scene. But I promise to check in on you. And if they decide to lock you up in a dungeon or anything, I’ll smuggle you some candy bars.”

“They wouldn’t do that.”

Her look of mild reproof reminded him of Isabel, and he smiled. “Exactly. So what are you scared of?”

Briggs had just arrived back at the house to check in, so they were all gathered in front when Ren came up the path from the farmhouse with her. The minute they saw her, both parents started to run. Then they were on their knees in the gravel, half smothering the poor kid.

“Steffie! Oh, my God, Steffie!”

They kissed her, checked her over to make sure she wasn’t hurt, and then Tracy jumped up and tried to slobber Ren with kisses. Briggs actually reached out to hug him, something Ren managed to avoid by bending over to tie his shoelace. Isabel, in the meantime, stood there looking proud, which annoyed the hell out of him. What had she expected him to do? Kill the kid?

That’s when it occurred to him that at some point during his time with Steffie, he’d mercifully stopped thinking about Kaspar Street.

Isabel’s attitude didn’t keep him from aching to sink into her again, even though it had only been a few hours since he’d done just that. And even though he wasn’t crazy about those terms she’d laid out in the car this morning. Not that he wanted too many emotional entanglements-God knew he didn’t-but did she have to be so cold-blooded about it? Then there was the matter of Kaspar Street. She hadn’t liked the fact that he was in the business of killing young women. What would she do when she found out about the kids?

He finally managed to get her away by reminding her that he was soaked to the skin, cold as hell, and hungry. That kicked in her female instincts, just as he’d hoped, and within an hour he had her in bed.

“Are you mad?” Steffie whispered.

Harry had a lump in his throat the size of Rhode Island. Since he couldn’t talk, he brushed the hair back from her forehead and shook his head. She lay curled in bed with her oldest teddy cuddled to her cheek. She was clean from her bath and wearing her favorite blue cotton nighty. He remembered her as a toddler, waddling toward him, arms out. She looked so small under the covers and so very precious.

“We’re not mad,” Tracy said quietly from the other side of the bed. “But we’re still upset.”

“Ren told me if you locked me in a dungeon, he’d sneak me some candy bars.”

“What a wild and crazy guy.” Tracy smoothed the sheet. Her makeup had vanished hours ago, and she had dark circles under her eyes, but she was still the most beautiful woman Harry had ever seen.

“I’m sorry I scared you so much.”

Tracy looked stern. “So you’ve said. But you’re still spending tomorrow morning by yourself in this bedroom.”

Tracy was made of stronger stuff than Harry was, because he wanted to forget all about discipline. But then Steffie hadn’t run away on account of her. It was him. He felt defeated and disoriented. But he also felt resentful. How had he managed to become the bad guy?

“All morning?” Steffie looked so little and miserable he could barely keep himself from overriding Tracy and promising to take her for ice cream instead.

“All morning,” Tracy said firmly.

Steffie thought it over, and then her lip started to quiver. “I know I shouldn’t have run away just because I got so sad when I heard you and Daddy fighting.”

Harry’s stomach twisted, and Tracy’s forehead crumpled. “Until ten-thirty,” she said quickly.

Steffie’s lip stopped quivering, and she sighed one of those grown-up sighs that usually made him laugh. “I guess it could be a lot worse.”

Tracy tugged on a lock of her daughter’s hair. “You bet it could. The only reason we’re not locking you in that dungeon Ren mentioned is because of your allergies.”

“Plus the spiders.”

“Yeah, that, too.” Tracy’s voice got thready, and Harry knew they were thinking the same thing. Having her parents together was so important to Steffie that she’d been willing to face her worst fear. His daughter had more courage than he did.

Tracy leaned down to kiss her, clutching the headboard to support her weight. She stayed there for a long time, eyes closed, her cheek pressed to Steffie’s. “I love you so much, punkin. Promise you won’t ever do anything like this again.”

“I promise.”

Harry finally managed to find his voice. “And promise that the next time you get upset about something, you’ll tell us what’s bothering you.”

“Even if it hurts your feelings, right?”

“Even then.”

She tucked her bear under her chin. “Are you… still going away tomorrow?”

He didn’t know what to say, so he simply shook his head.

Tracy went to check on Connor and Brittany, who were sharing a room, at least until they woke up and crawled in with their father. Jeremy was still downstairs playing a computer game. Harry and Tracy hadn’t been alone since their disastrous argument that afternoon, and he didn’t want to be alone with her now, not while he felt so raw, but parents couldn’t always do what they wanted.

She shut the door and stepped back into the hallway. Then she pressed the small of her back against the wall, something she did late in her pregnancies to ease the strain. With her other pregnancies he’d massaged her there, but not with this one.