I asked how a ‘normal’ five and a half-year old mourns. “What should I expect?” I asked. “You know, about his mother? My cousin. Judy.”

  Ms. Mauve asked for a summary of Truman’s behavior, and I told her the stuff I thought seemed normal—his attachment to his new Cosmic Cow toy, the short bout of crying the night before.

  “Anything you think isn’t healthy?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure his health has anything to do with it, but he surprised me just now.” I pointed to her computer. “I didn’t know he liked computers.”

  “All children do.”

  “He wouldn’t touch my cell phone yesterday.”

  “That is strange.” Ms. Mauve stared at me. “You say you lost your mother?”

  Lucky me. We were back on the topic of my family.

  “Truman never met my mother,” I said.

  “Obviously. But I’m asking about you.” She kept staring. “Did you do anything strange when your mother died?”

  I blinked. Then I put the cat on the floor and stood up. “I need to get to work now,” I said.

  Chapter 10

  “You kidnapped him!?” Bambi pretty much shouted.

  I pointed to my office door. “Would you please keep your voice down?”

  “Kidnapped?” she hissed in a still not-so-soothing tone. “Remind me why I walked all the way across campus to hear this.”

  I reminded my best friend that all the way across campus meant crossing one parking lot. “And you’re here because I asked you,” I said. “I need your support.”

  “I am not bailing you out of jail, Cassie.”

  “Joe says I won’t be arrested. And he’s the voice of reason, right?”

  “Okay, but what about the social worker you just mentioned?” Bambi asked. “Why’d she visit you this morning?”

  A very good question. One I had thought about on my drive to work. I took a wild guess that’s the way social workers operate. “They must drop by at odd times to catch people off guard,” I said. “But I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

  “Other than the kidnapping thing.”

  “Can we please be positive?” I begged. “I really need your support.”

  “I’m not babysitting.”

  I smirked. “Very funny.”

  “I’m not chipping in for his college education, either.”

  “Yep, even funnier,” I said. “But this is only temporary. Tempor. Ary. I’ll take care of him for a few days, and then we’ll find his real family, and poof, he’ll be gone. And I’ll go back to my normal life.”

  “Your life’s never been normal,” Bambi said. “Where are you hiding this kid?”

  “He’s at school. Which is why I was so late getting here. I dropped him off, but then I thought I should introduce myself to his teacher.”

  “Do you think at all?”

  “I think he’s darn cute. Look.” I tossed my cell phone over the stacks of midterms crowding my desk. Bambi caught it and started sweeping through my pictures.

  “Love the crew cut.”

  I walked around the desk to look over her shoulder. “Go back,” I told her, and we started with the dozen or so pics from Crumble Creek Park. “I took those right after I picked him up.”

  “Right after you kidnapped him, you mean.”She skimmed through some more shots but stopped when she got to the first of the little guy in his new sweatshirt. “I can’t believe you didn’t burn that thing last summer,” she said, and I told her Truman’s was only an exact replica.

  “Bobby bought it for him.”

  Bambi said something about the Looney Tunes gene running rampant in the Baxter blood, and we moved on to some action shots of the Cosmic Cow-Twirly Twine Twister game.

  “I’m not really clear on the rules,” I said. “But Truman’s good at it.” I pointed to a photo of the kid pulverizing crackers. “He’s a good cook, too.”

  Bambi scowled. “What do five-year olds eat?”

  “Food mostly. But Truman’s five and a ha—”

  “There’s Joe!” She swept through the next round of the Cosmic Cow-Twirly Twine Twister game photos. “This is a lot of pictures, Cass—” She stopped. “That. Is a cat.”

  “Yep.” I grimaced. “That’s Notz.”

  “That’s nuts!” Bambi swept through the shots of Truman, Notz, and Charlie. “It’s amazing how well he matches Charlie.”

  “Nooo. It’s amazing how well he matches Spookey.” I decided I needed to sit down and walked back to my chair. “He’s an exact replica.”

  Bambi looked up. “Are you okay?”

  I shrugged, and said I couldn’t very well take the child’s pet away from him at a time like this. But that’s exactly what happened to me. My cat Spookey died the day before my mother. I was ten. And let’s just say, it was the worst week of my life.

  “I can’t believe Bobby never got you another cat,” Bambi said.

  He had tried, but I kept refusing. I explained the logic of a ten-year-old in mourning. Somehow I’d gotten it into my head that replacing my cat would be like trying to replace my mother. “I thought it would be disloyal,” I said. “And at some point, avoiding cats became a habit.”

  “But deep down inside, you love cats.”

  I frowned. “Maybe.”

  “So? What do you think of Notz?”

  “He’s okay,” I told the midterms.

  “And Truman?”

  “He’s okay, too.”

  Bambi raised an eyebrow. “What about Joe?”

  “He’s okay, too.”

  She shook her head and argued that Josiah Wylie is way more than okay. “I meant, what does he think of Truman?”

  “Joe likes kids. He has one himself, right?”

  “Paige Wylie is in graduate school, Cassie. Your child is in kindergarten.”

  “He is not my child!” I took a deep breath. “Joe keeps insisting Lake Bess is a good place to raise kids.”

  Bambi howled. “I love that man! A hunky-boo inside and out.”

  “I hate that word inside and out.”

  She sat forward. “So Joe’s willing to live with the kid?”

  “What!?” I shook my head Truman-style. “First of all, Joe and I don’t live together. And second of all, Truman is temporary.” I frowned. “And third of all, so is Joe.”

  “Think again, Cassie.”

  “I am thinking, thank you very much. Everyone knows Joe and I are headed for the inevitable breakup.”

  “Everyone knows the guy’s head over heels,” Bambi insisted. “He took a bullet for you last summer.”

  I waved a hand. “A superficial flesh wound.”

  “There is nothing superficial about Josiah Wylie—hunky-boo to beat all hunky-boo—”

  A rap at the door interrupted her.

  “Come in,” I called out, and a tall male figure appeared in my doorway.

  And I stared aghast at Captain Jason Sterling.

  Captain Sterling. A Vermont State Trooper.

  A cop.

  Sterling saluted. “Remember me, Ms. Baxter?”

  Chapter 11

  “Hunky-boo!” Bambi mouthed at me.

  Hello! Did the woman not realize the significance of a cop showing up at my office? The day after that little kidnapping thing?

  “Ms. Baxter?” Captain Sterling waved. “May I come in?”

  “Oh!” I jumped up. “Of course!”

  He stepped inside and shut the door. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course!” I flapped my arms. “I’m a little flustered, is all. This is unexpected, right? I mean, I didn’t expect to see you. Here at work. At my work, I mean.” I swallowed. “At my office.”

  Sterling scowled, and Bambi mouthed a “Looney Tunes” at me as she stood up.

  “Oh! This is my friend Bambi,” I said. “Dr. Bambi Lovely-Vixen.”

  Sterling scowled some more.

  “It gets worse,” she told him. “I teach biology.”

  He held out his hand. “Captain Jason Sterling.”

  “Captain!” I spoke loudly, hoping Bambi would catch the significance and think of some brilliant way to stop him from arresting me. But was she actually smiling?

  “The dead redhead-pajama incident,” she said. “You’re the one who made the arrest.”

  Perfect, Bambi! Throw that ‘arrest’ word right out there.

  “It was a little more complicated than that,” Sterling told her. “I had some help—” He stopped as it dawned on him. “You were her accomplice.”

  “Accomplice!” I tried laughing. “That makes us sound like crimina—”

  “You used aliases to spy on people.” He kept staring at Bambi. “You were Dr. Jones.”

  “I think I was Dr. Smith,” she said. “Cassie was Dr. Jones.”

  Mr. State Trooper directed the frown at me, and I tossed him a pencil.

  “Go for it,” I said, and he snapped it in two.

  ***

  My supposed best friend suggested she should be leaving.

  “Nooo!” I said.

  Sterling took Bambi’s side and suggested we talk in private.

  “Nooo,” I repeated. “Bambi’s my best friend, and I need her support. Let’s everyone take a seat.” I waved to the chairs, pulled a package of pencils from my desk, and placed it within easy reach of the cop.

  He glanced down. “Will I need those?”

  If experience dictated, yes. During the previous summer, talking to me had always put Captain Sterling in a pencil-breaking mood. “So?” I asked all breezy-like. “What’s up?”

  “I understand you’re taking care of a child?”

  I jumped a good ten feet. “Sarah Bliss asked me to,” I said after landing. “You remember Sarah, Captain? She works for the sheriff. The sheriff!” I repeated, thinking that sounded pretty good. “Sarah told me to take Truman. Truman Tripp,” I said. “That’s his name. It’s not like I kidnapped him or anythin—” I bit my lip and looked at Bambi.

  “Looney Tunes,” she mouthed, and Sterling reached for a pencil.

  “You’re the child’s aunt?” he asked me. “Do I have that correct from Audrey Mauve?”

  “The social worker contacted you?” I squeaked. “But she had me sign all kinds of official paperwork yesterday. I swear we made everything completely and totally legal. Completely and totally!”

  Captain Sterling asked if I was feeling well.

  “Perfect!” I lied. “But I’m not really Truman’s real aunt. In reality, I’m his cousin.”

  “Reality?” Bambi mouthed.

  “His first cousin once removed.” I kept digging my own grave. “Our family tree is kind of complicated, but he calls me Auntie Cassie. Isn’t that cute? Truman’s really cute. You should come see for yourself.”

  Holy moly! Did I just say that?

  Bambi stared aghast, Sterling did the same, and I finally, finally shut up.

  “Aren’t you curious why I’m here?” he asked.

  “She’s curious alright,” Bambi mumbled.

  “There’s been a crime,” Sterling said, and I jumped ten feet. “It wasn’t an accident, Ms. Baxter. Your cousin was murdered.”

  “Who? What?”

  “Your cousin!” Bambi snapped.

  “Oh! My cousin. Truman’s mother. Judy. I mean, my cousin Judy.” I cringed. “Judy Tripp was murdered?”

  In case you haven’t quite caught on, Sterling’s answer was yes. A few things at the scene of the accident had bothered the paramedic Ginger Graham. And since Route 19 is a state highway, she called the state troopers.

  “That’s why I’m involved,” Sterling said. “Someone tampered with your cousin’s car.”

  “Who would want to hurt that woman?” I caught myself. “I mean, who would want to hurt my cousin?”

  “That’s what I’m hoping you can tell me. Were you two close?”

  I blinked at Bambi. “Not really.”

  ***

  “Frankly, I’m stumped,” Sterling told me when I finally mustered up the nerve to look at him again. “It appears your cousin was as honest and upstanding as you.”

  “Appearances can be deceiving,” Bambi said.

  I shot her a withering glance, and Captain Sterling reported that Judy Tripp had a spotless driving record, had held the same job for fifteen years, paid her bills on time, and stayed out of trouble.

  He again appealed to me. “You’re sure you can’t tell me anything?”

  “Positive,” I said.

  “Well then, I’ll ask you both to keep this under wraps. If anyone asks, Judy Tripp died in an accident. And no snooping around this time.” He looked back and forth between us. “No unauthorized—” He broke a pencil. “—errands.”

  “You can trust me,” I said, and Bambi had a coughing fit.

  Eventually, she recovered enough to ask if there were any witnesses.

  “Truman was there,” I said.

  “But he’s only five,” Sterling said.

  “Five and a hal—” I jumped. “He’s not in danger, is he?”

  Sterling shook his head and insisted he had no reason to believe anyone was after Truman. “Same goes for the other passenger.”

  “Ryan Webb.” I cringed. “Is he still in a coma?”

  Sterling frowned. “The poor kid probably could tell us a lot, if and when he wakes up, and if and when his parents let me talk to him.”

  “They must be feeling a little protective.”

  “There were no other witnesses?” Bambi asked.

  Sterling shook his head. “There were a whole bunch of witnesses.” He turned to me. “But unfortunately, this situation bears an eerie resemblance to your incident last summer.”

  I groaned. “Let me guess. Some animals saw what happened.”

  “Correct.”

  “Goats?” Bambi asked, because two goats had been my main witnesses.

  “Try again.”

  “Dogs?” I asked, because my other witness was a basset hound. And for the record, none of these witnesses had done much to dispel that Miss Looney Tunes label.

  “Try again,” Sterling told us.

  I thought about Truman, and Vermont. “Cows,” I said.

  He nodded. “No animals were harmed, but your cousin’s car landed in a herd of Holsteins.”

  ***

  Amy Peyton the history department secretary raced into my office the second Sterling left. “OMG!” she said as she plopped into the chair he’d had vacated. “Who? Was that?”

  “Have a seat, Amy,” I said.

  “Way ahead of you.” She sat forward. “Who was he, what was he doing here, and most importantly, when’s he coming back?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re boy crazy?”

  “Hell, yes. Answer my question.”

  “His name is Captain Jason Sterling.”

  She raised her fists. “I knew he was a cop.”

  “I’m guessing the uniform was a clue,” Bambi said.

  Amy pointed a hot pink fingernail at me. “What was he doing here? With you?”

  Luckily, Captain Sterling had thought ahead. He couldn’t have predicted the level of Amy’s curiosity, but he did seem to understand the Crabtree College grapevine. Before he left, he’d fed Bambi and me a fool-proof reason for his visit—he was on campus to see Professor Sheldon in the criminal justice department.

  “He thought it would be polite to stop by and say hi,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “Think, Amy.” Bambi waved toward me. “Cassie’s incident last summer. Sterling was the arresting officer.”

  Amy wiggled her eyebrows. “He is arresting!”

  Oh, brother.

  I stood up and grabbed a stack of exams from my desk. “I have a midterm to give,” I said and gestured for Bambi to follow me.

  What a shocker, Amy escorted us across the reception area.“Has he arrested you?” she asked.

  I spun around. “Say what?”

  “Captain Sterling. Are you, you know?”

  “Involved,” Bambi clarified for me.

  I rolled my eyes and kept walking.

  ***

  Bambi followed me down the stairs. “Amy thinks Captain Sterling’s a hunky-boo.”

  “Amy Peyton thinks every man from here to Whoozit is a hunky-boo,” I said. “It’s women like her who give us blondes a bad reputation.”

  Bambi reminded me that despite her cute as a button looks and boy-crazy attitude, Amy was the best administrative assistant at Crabtree College. “And Amy has taste,” she said as we made it to the first floor. “He is a hunk. Surely you’ve noticed.”

  Oh, for Pete’s sake. I stopped short, and Bambi bumped into me. “Hello!” I said. “Surely you noticed I was a little preoccupied.”

  “You were afraid of being arrested.”

  “Very good.” We started walking again and made it outside. “And you were a big help,” I added. “I lost count of how many times you mouthed Looney Tunes at me. What if Sterling noticed?”

  “Everyone knows you’re Looney.” Bambi waved a hand to indicate a group of students we were passing. “And that cop was paying zero attention to me, anyway. He only had eyes for you.”

  “Spare me.”

  “Surely you noticed the way the guy looked at you.”

  I pointed to the Natural Sciences Center. “Don’t you have an exam to give?”

  “Not until three.” Bambi lost the grin and got way too serious.

  “What?” I said.

  “You lied to him, Cassie. He thinks you’re Truman’s cousin.”

  “Don’t you have an exam to give?”

  “Not until three. Sterling’s investigating a murder.” Bambi raised an eyebrow. “Have you thought of the ramifications of this?”

  I pointed to the Reginald Crabtree Memorial Building and insisted I did have an exam to give. “I’ll think about Sterling and his ramifications tomorrow.”

  “You do that, Scarlett.”

  Chapter 12

  I didn’t think the rules of the Cosmic Cow-Twirly Twine Twister game could get more complicated, but I was wrong. The outdoor version involved—

  “Goats!” Truman shouted as I emerged from my car. He, Cosmic Cow, and Ruby, the goat with the floppy ears, raced by the driveway. Charlie gave chase, then came my father and Twirly Twine Twister, and then Rose, the goat with the white tail.