As I heard his voice over the phone Thursday morning, I felt the familiar mix of love and frustration. “How are you?” I tried to sound bright and perky. Not a care in the world.Lucy sat at the red table downing an alarming number of Lorna Doones, grinning as she unabashedly eavesdropped. She and Meg still hadn’t left for the shore which surprised me.“Who cares how I am?” Dad thundered. “How are you, and how did you get mixed up in a murder?”“Um, what do you mean?” How did he know anything about the killing? I hadn’t planned to tell him about it until the murderer was behind bars, and I could make the whole thing a big joke. He had hovered over me, “my little chick in a barn full of strutting roosters,” my whole life. After Mom died, he’d been worse than ever. If he knew I’d actually seen the murderer, he’d have apoplexy.“I read about you in the paper.”“I was in the Ohio papers?” Who would have thought?“Page six,” said the man who only read the headlines and the sports section with occasional glances at the comics.
