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Chapter One
Misp, Washington
March 28, 1998
Pearl Hobbs and her friend Charlotte Johnson stepped onto the front porch of Pearl's craftsman-style bungalow. Although the afternoon breeze was chilly, it also carried in the lusty ocean smell Pearl loved. She clutched her teacup poodle Dixie against her plump midriff to keep the dog warm. "I'll call you when I find that photograph, Charlotte. I know I've got it somewhere."
"Well, it would make a great cover for the auxiliary cookbook even if two of the ladies are dead now." Charlotte stopped on the top step and peered in the direction of the neighboring three-story, Victorian-style home. "Isn't that Jonah Moran cutting across the lawn by that halfway house?"
Pearl followed her gaze, then gave a little shudder that had nothing to do with the brisk air. "I should talk to him-tell him to stay away from there."
Charlotte folded her arms around her as if she too felt a chill. "I don't know how you can stand living next door to a bunch of criminals. I'd be scared to death."
"I am scared," Pearl admitted.
Ever since the state had turned the peeling gray, gabled behemoth into a residence for ex-convicts, she had been praying continually for the Lord to keep her safe. She'd protested the establishment of the halfway house along with nearly everyone else in Misp, but their objections made no difference. Some bigwigs came from Olympia, held a town meeting at the high school gym, and told everyone the four men who were moving into that place had served their time and deserved a chance to rebuild their lives.
Well, what about the lives of the people who were already here, who had built their homes and raisedtheir families here? Guess they didn't matter, Pearl thought.
Charlotte was still watching Jonah, who was scuffing through the grass with that odd, clumsy gait he had. She pressed her lips together, the tiny lines around her mouth deepening. "You'd think Lila would do a better job of looking after that boy."
"But, Charlotte, he's a grown man."
"If he was really grown up and normal, he'd be working at a job. I suppose as long as his mother supports him he'll just wander all over town."
Having known Charlotte for more than forty years, Pearl was accustomed to her criticisms, but sometimes they seemed so unchristian. She realized it was easy to find fault with others. Charlotte herself wore too much powder over her wrinkles, but Pearl would never have mentioned that.
A mud-splattered blue van with the words A Room With A View lettered prominently on the side zagged across the road and pulled up next to Jonah. The driver's window rolled down, and a woman with short, tight curls the color of flaming coals stuck out her head. Pearl could see her speaking to Jonah, although she couldn't hear what she was saying.
Charlotte gave a henlike snort. "And there's that sister of his." Shielding her mouth with her hand, she leaned close enough so that Pearl could smell her Wind Song. "Now she's a piece of work, isn't she? Disappearing the way she did for what-eighteen or nineteen years?and then coming back last spring and acting like the town should just take her in, no questions asked."
"But I thought your son Pete was dating her."
Charlotte sighed. "I'm hoping he'll come to his senses. Like I told him, she may end up inheriting everything Lila owns, especially since it's obvious Jonah can't run that mill, but the man who marries her will pay with his sweat and tears. I mean, can you imagine having Lila Moran for a mother-in-law?"
But Pearl liked the Morans. Lila had done a lot of good for the community. Because of her sawmill, men had jobs. She kept her logging operation going when others couldn't. The Olympic Peninsula had been suffering hard economic times ever since those tree-huggers and government people discovered the spotted owl and shut down logging on half the area's timberland to protect it.
Pearl liked Lila's daughter too. Jessica had been the best newspaper carrier she'd ever had.
Pearl fidgeted, wishing Charlotte would hurry up and leave. She watched Jonah lope to the passenger side of the van, open the door, and climb in. As the van sped past Pearl's house, Jessica thrust her arm out the window and waved cheerily.
Charlotte smiled and returned the greeting with a quick flap of her hand. "She dotes on that brother of hers but avoids her mother like poison ivy, have you noticed?"
Pearl knew that if she didn't change the subject, Charlotte would bring up the nasty rumors about Jessica from years ago.
"I always liked her because she put the newspaper in those plastic bags," Pearl said, "not like today when the kids don't care if it gets wet."
Charlotte grabbed her wrist. "Did you see that?"
Pearl froze. "What? See what?"
Dixie's head snapped up, and she gave a low growl.
Charlotte, her faded green eyes narrowed to slits, nodded almost imperceptibly at the house next door and whispered, "Someone's watching us."
Pearl studied it but didn't see any movement. "Where?"
"Second floor, middle window-a man," she whispered ominously.
"What does he look like?"
Charlotte gripped her wrist tighter. "Shhh."
Pearl lowered her voice but complained, "They can't hear us."
"How do you know?"
"Because I can't hear them unless they're yelling."
"Yeah, but their ears are younger." She released Pearl's wrist and stepped back into the shadow of the porch column.
At that moment, the front door of the halfway house opened, and a tall, thin black man wearing dress slacks and a sport coat stepped onto the sprawling front porch. Charlotte jumped back, pressing herself against the wooden siding. Pearl reflexively grabbed Dixie's muzzle to event the dog from yipping. It struggled and whimpered, but she held on until the man crossed the yard and turned toward town.
