“Might, maybe. And they’d still have my name on them, so they’d end up at the post office anyway. No return address. It’s not an answer. I don’t know if this is either, but I feel better. I feel like I did something to flick back at him.”

Hissing, Teesha pulled out her phone when it signaled. “It’s Harry. Hi, Harry. Yes—wait—yes, I know. I’m standing here with her right now. Uh-huh.”

Teesha held out the phone. “It’s for you.”

“Damn it.”

She let him rage at her.

“No, I’m not taking it down, and what’s the point if it’s already got over two hundred views? One of them’s probably him—her—let’s just say them. I’m not sorry I did it because, damn it, I needed to hit back. No, wait.”

She drew a breath. “I’m saying this to both you and Teesha. I’m sorry it upsets you, worries you. I’m sorry it’s going to upset and worry my mother and everyone else. But … the card he sent after Popi died, it tore at me. This one just snapped what was left. I’m done, Harry. I’m done. I’m giving the phone back to Teesha now.”

Once she did, she walked over, picked up the ball, threw it again. A few minutes later, Teesha wrapped arms around her from behind.

“We love you, Adrian.”

“I know, that’s why I’m sorry this worries you. I know, I do, it wasn’t the safe, sensible thing to do. But, Teesha, I needed to hit back, finally. I needed to at least feel like I’d taken some control.”

“I get that. I get you—we’ve been friends too long for me not to get you.”

“Same goes, so I really am sorry I’ve added more worry. Just remember I’ve done all the other sensibles. Cops, FBI, investigator, security system, self-defense classes, big dog.”

Sadie dropped the ball at Adrian’s feet, looked up adoringly.

“Yeah, she’s ferocious. Okay.” Teesha gave Adrian a last squeeze, then stepped back. “When it comes down to it, I don’t know if I could’ve held out as long as you have. And when you hit back, you hit hard. That asshole’s going to need first, second, and third aid for the burn you gave him.

“And I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow when I torture you with the budget for furnishing the youth center.”

“The Rizzo Family Youth Center.”

“Okay then. You’ve decided on the name.”

“I’ve gone around and around. Do I name it after my grandparents, after Popi—since it’s his vision? But he shared that vision with Nonna. Still, they wouldn’t have been here, had the means to have the vision, without his parents. I wouldn’t be here able to bring that vision into reality without all of that, including my mother. So family, and you can add the plaque to the budget.”

“We’ll talk about that.” Teesha looked down at the ever-patient Sadie. “Learn to growl at least.”

Adrian picked up the ball again as Teesha left. “Growling’s not your style, is it, baby?”

She threw the ball again, and again while she worked out how to tell Rachael what she’d done.

“Lectures, Sadie. I think I’m in for another lecture. Why are lectures worse than a solid smack in the face?”

When Rachael texted she was running a little behind, Adrian told her not to worry. She settled down on the front porch with her tablet, doing searches on plaques. Sizes, materials, shapes, fonts.

She didn’t want a big, flashy statement, but something more subtle, dignified, suiting the building.

She wanted what her grandparents would have wanted.

She took another text after she’d narrowed her favorites down to three.

Adrian, delayed by traffic. ETA now six. Can reschedule if that’s too late.

 

Adrian glanced at the time, noted the investigator had already passed the halfway point.

It’s not too late for me. No particular plans this evening.

 

“Right, Sadie? Just you and me hanging out.”

Great, Rachael texted back, see you in about thirty.

It was closer to forty when Adrian saw the car coming up the hill. But she’d spent the time well, deciding on the plaque, setting out a cheese tray and a carafe of wine.

Sadie waited until Rachael got out of the car, waited until she’d recognized the visitor before she thumped her tail.

“I’m so sorry,” Rachael began, but Adrian waved that away.

“Don’t be. I got everything done I wanted to get done. And I’m about to have a glass of wine. I know you have a long drive back, but unless you’d rather something else, I’d say you’ve earned one.”

Rachael looked at the carafe, let out a sigh. “I’d love one. Thanks. Two fender benders,” she said as she sat. “One breakdown, and traffic stopped dead.”

She took the wine Adrian offered, sat back a moment. She wore amber-tinted sunglasses and a light blue blazer over a white tee.

“You’ve got a little paradise going here.”

“I’m doing my best to maintain it. I’m trying my hand, on my own this year, with a veg garden in the back, and I’m crazy happy I’ve got some tomatoes and peppers coming. And terrified I’ll kill them.”

“Epsom salts, diluted with water.”

“Yes!” Surprised, Adrian laughed. “My grandmother swore by that. You garden?”

“City dweller, so pots and planters. Nothing like a tomato right off the vine. So—”

“Before we start, I need to tell you, and show you. I got another poem this morning.” She took the folder she’d put on the chair beside her on the table. “Postmarked Omaha. I copied the note and the envelope.”

Rachael switched to her reading glasses, read the poem.

“More direct than usual, setting a time frame.”

“Summer, and that’s coming right up. I need to tell you, I reacted.”

Rachael peered over the cheaters. “In what way?”

Adrian simply opened her tablet, cued up the video and, turning it to face Rachael, hit play.

Rachael sipped her wine, watched without comment until the video ended.

“You posted this today.”

“Yes, and on my social media outlets. I’ve scanned the comments a few times, and nothing out of the ordinary so far.”

Rachael nodded, then let her glasses dangle by her chain as she looked directly at Adrian.

“You’re a smart woman, and knew issuing a direct challenge like this could spark an escalation, even a confrontation. That’s why you did it.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not here to issue orders, and can only offer my best advice. I’ll say I wish you’d waited until we’d had this meeting.”

“I’ve waited since I was seventeen. Instead of easing off, it’s gotten worse.”

“That’s true. Since you didn’t wait, we’ll assess on what is. If this video does trigger him into making a threat in the comments on social media, we can track his IP address. Which you knew.”

“Yes. I’m sure he knows that, too, but he could rage post. People do. Even people who aren’t sick and obsessed.”

“Correct, so we’ll monitor closely. I can consult with the agent in charge of your case, nudge her to do the same.”