Free Pall in the Family by Dawn Eastman Page B

leading her life, and then someone comes along and takes it all away. Leaving behind people and animals that care about her,” Seth said.
    â€œI know.” I put my hand tentatively on his back, not sure what to do. “They’ll do their best. No one wants to let a murderer go unpunished.”
    â€œClyde?”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œI was wondering . . .” He turned toward me, and I pulled my hand away.
    â€œThere you are!” said a voice from the back door. I heard a click and the backyard was flooded with light. The screen door slammed and the porch steps creaked.
    Alex walked toward us, only his dark outline visible with the porch lights behind him.
    â€œHi, Seth,” he said.
    â€œHey.” Seth raised his hand and let it drop.
    â€œI see you have a couple of new inmates here at Chez Fortune.”
    â€œWe didn’t know what to do with Sara’s dog, so we decided to keep him until her family can take him, and Tish called and needed to board Baxter with us for a day or two,” I said, shielding my eyes from the sudden brightness.
    â€œMakes sense,” Alex said, hands in his pockets as he surveyed the yard.
    â€œSo, um, I’m taking them in before they get too wet,” said Seth. When he whistled, the dogs came immediately to his side.
    I watched, fascinated, as they followed him into the house. Neither one of them had ever done anything I had asked, whistle or no whistle.
    â€œHey, Alex . . .”
    â€œUm, Clyde . . .” We both began at the same time.
    â€œYou first . . . ,” we said together, and laughed.
    â€œShould we just forget it?” I asked.
    â€œYeah, I’m sorry. I should have known better than to force you to eat eggplant.”
    â€œWell, I usually love all your food.” I caught his look of disbelief. “Okay, I love
most
of your food. Some of the more exotic stuff can throw me a little. Doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with it.”
    â€œSorry, you had such a bad day. How hard are they pushing for a psychic solution in there?” He cocked his head toward the house.
    â€œMy mother made pot roast.”
    â€œOh, it’s on, then.”
    â€œI think it’s only just begun.”
    * * *
    The next day, Tuesday, Tish called in a panic about Baxter getting his heartworm medicine. She’d left a message and then shut off her phone. I had no choice but to go pick it up. Baxter got very quiet as we pulled into his driveway and lay down on the seat next to Tuffy. He pushed his jaw out and refused to look at me. I could tell he was gearing up for a battle. Apparently he and Tuffy had bonded more than I had realized.
    â€œYou stay here with them, and I’ll run in and get his medicine,” I said to Seth.
    He gave me a thumbs-up and kept his head bobbing to whatever was on his iPod.
    I knew Tish’s house like my own, mostly because it
had
been my own. I had grown up here for the first eight years of my life. She had also been my babysitter off and on when I was younger, and I’d spent a lot of time with her. Much of my teen years were spent in the cozy living room that had once been mine, just hanging out, doing homework and avoiding my family. She was one of the few people in Crystal Haven who seemed to understand why a person might not want to have any psychic insight into events. When my mother got to be too much for me with her pressure to be a psychic, Tish stepped in and let me just be myself. She was from a generation between my family and me, a few years older than Grace but not as ancient as my mother and my aunt had seemed when I was a teen. Enjoying the absolute trust of my parents, she often became the chaperone to my teenage activities, straddling the line between cool and responsible.
    I passed the oak tree that had been my favorite climbing tree as a kid. It had a hole near the first large branch. I used to write coded notes and