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long and wild gray hair held back by a blue headband, an ugly, angry face twisting as the old man yelled.
    Dora, behind her, said, “For heaven’s sakes, that’s Adam Cane. He hasn’t talked to me in—Why, open the door, Jenny.”
    She did, reluctantly.
    His first words were a snarl. “Who do you people think you are?” He leaned in the open doorway, chicken neck sticking out of a faded undershirt. A hand, holding a blackthorn walking stick, was raised enough to be a menace.
    “I’m sorry. You are?” Jenny feigned ignorance, buying time to think how to get rid of the man.
    “You know damn well who I am, Jennifer Weston, or whatever your name is now. And I know you well enough. Always was trouble—stealing the kohlrabi out of my garden. Trouble as soon as you came back to town. You and your mom callin’ the police on me! That’s a laugh. I should’ve called them when you and your friends kept ringing my doorbell, the way you did, leaving a burning bag of crap behind for me to stomp on.”
    “Mr. Cane?” Jenny smiled and stepped fully into the doorway, blocking his entry to the house.
    “You’re damned right it’s me. Had a visit from the chief of police today. Seems somebody broke up that box of books your mother keeps out there.” He turned to flail a hand toward the street. “Somebody did away with it, and I say that’s a good thing. Too many people hanging around. Too many cars. And I don’t like people breaking the law the way your mother does. We’ve got zoning here in Bear Falls, ya know.”
    “Adam?” Dora said from behind Jenny, then pushed her daughter aside.
    “Whatever are you talking about? It was a terrible thing. If you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, talking to the police was the right thing to do. And if you didn’t go yelling like a madman about our neighbor’s little dog, why, nobody would have connected you to the destruction out front.”
    “Street’s so bad, I hardly want to live here anymore,” he mumbled, calming a little. “Should be a hermit, like Aaron. Tried being a good neighbor.”
    “Threatening a dog? Shame on you.”
    “I knew it was you sent Ed Warner down. Had to be. You or that shrimp that lives next to me. Her and that damned dog—pees on my grass every chance she gets.”
    “Zoe does that?” Jenny pretended to be shocked.
    Which only made him madder. “You know what I’m talking about, Jenny Weston. Wasn’t me broke up that damned thing you people keep your books in. You send the chief to somebody else’s house next time, Dora. Not mine.” The man, in his dirty blue pants and down-at-the-heels sandals, was too pathetic to be a threat. Jenny started to close the door in his face. Dora stopped her.
    “I’m so sorry if you were troubled.” Dora put a hand out to Adam, which he pushed away.
    “Only trouble is you and this daughter of yours. And don’t think you’re going to blackmail me for new books—like the police chief said. You find some other old fool to prey on. It’s not gonna be me.”
    Now Jenny put a hand on the old man’s chest and gave him a shove out of the doorway and across the porch. His ankles turned in his ancient sandals.
    Adam caught himself with his walking stick and righted his body. He held himself firmly in place, half bent over, staring directly at Jenny.
    “You turned sour, Jenny Weston,” he growled. “All because of that Arlen boy. Used to feel sorry for you, but now I see why Johnny hightailed it to another girl.”
    “Go back to your own house,” Jenny snapped and closed the door in his face. She leaned against the door and pulled in a couple of quick breaths. Mention of Jenny’s good-for-nothing high school boyfriend had her bristling.
    “He didn’t mean that,” Dora said. “He’s such an unhappy man. A ‘wasp in a wig,’ as Zoe says. She’s got that one right.”

Chapter 6
    The dark beyond her window moved, long shadows reaching across the lawn. There were no streetlights here at the back of