Time and Trouble by Gillian Roberts

often. She ’ d built herself a trap and nailed boards over its exit.
    The housemates looked at each other silently, but he heard their unarticulated questions, objections, fears in four parts as clearly as if they ’ d been singing a madrigal.
    He tried to think his way out of this. “ Let me get through this, ” he said. “ It isn ’ t the idea of telling the cops that worries you, it ’ s your telling them, right? ”
    She frowned, took a deep breath, shrugged, then nodded. He didn ’ t think she meant it, but it would have to do.
    “ Then don ’ t take it in. Mail it with a letter explaining what happened. A computer-written and printed letter they can ’ t trace. ”
    “ What if they come here, man, and pull the file out of the computer? ” Gary asked. “ Even if you erase it, it ’ s there, you know, and if they bring good-enough technicians —”
    He was going to punch Gary out, stitch shut his mouth. “ Right, ” he said. “ Like they ’ d want to, or care, or know which machine she —” He shook his head and took a breath. The girl was paranoid. Why give her extra ammunition? “ Okay, we ’ ll rent time at Kinko ’ s, use their machine, okay? Then I ’ ll mail it from the other end of the county. ” Jesus, this was stupid, kids playing spies. “ And I ’ ll write out a script, word by word, of what you could say on the phone to your next-door neighbor. ”
    “ Don ’ t forget the one who got hers at a Christmas party, ” Alicia said. Penny flashed her a furious look. He didn ’ t try to figure it out. He merely nodded.
    Penny still glared at Alicia. She hated anybody he liked, and he ’ d liked Alicia — as a friend, mostly — since the eighth grade. “ Pen? ” he prompted.
    She looked at him from behind a volcanic mountain. “ Oh, ” she said, “ you mean Mrs. … Mrs … . ” her eyes darted from one to the other of the housemates and he couldn ’ t help but see that each in turn dropped their glance to their hands, or the table. He wondered if they, like he was, were suspicious about this, thought she might be lying. “ Mrs. … Matterson. Sure. Same script. ”
    “ Fine. So you won ’ t say a single thing about what ’ s on the script, and you ’ ll see if they can help the police find out anything about the hearts. Maybe they were only made in one place, even if a lot of them were made. Maybe that limits something. Or they have a cheap alloy that was only made for a year. I don ’ t know — but it ’ s wrong not to try and find out if you can. It ’ s not like you were a witness to a crime and you ’ d be afraid the killer would come after you. You found a trinket near where people were secretly buried and you ’ re providing help. And after you mail the heart and make the calls — you ’ re done. When it ’ s all settled out, you ’ ll even get your amulet back. ”
    He ’ d presented a good case. Maybe he should have been a lawyer after all, made himself miserable, his parents happier about him. He watched her face, could almost see the stages of thought pass over her features. Hmm. Yes? No. Okay. Maybe. But … What stupid, immature counterargument would she find? How long would the rest of the household put up with this crap?
    After what felt like too long, Penny ’ s muscles unclenched, her shoulders lowered, her hands loosened out of the fists by her side, and she smiled so that he could remember why he used to find her appealing.
    “ Good plan, ” she said with a nod. “ We ’ ll do it first thing in the morning. ”
    His housemates applauded and Penny made a mock bow and beamed at them, looking like a happy child. He himself felt a rush of joy and ease. They were not going to blow each other up and away this particular evening. He was not imminently homeless.
    Although … They didn ’ t know her. They couldn ’ t see that there was something wrong with that smiling girl at the table. The Penny that had come home with him was filled to the