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problems to share at Christian Friends, which meets twice a month on Wednesdays at the Chapel. Normally whoever has the biggest problem shares first. I hadn’t gone first in quite a few months, which was a nice change in my life. For a while I was first all the time. But once I’d moved to Dot and Buck’s apartment and gotten Ben settled in California before he headed off to Pacific Oaks and the dorm, my life had gotten downright calm.
    It looked like that was about to change for a while, but hopefully just a brief while. I couldn’t see how I would get too involved in Frank’s death. He and I weren’t that close. It was going to be difficult for Dot because he was her relative, and even more difficult because this meant that somehow she’d have to find someone to take over a half-done remodeling job. Darnell certainly couldn’t do it himself. I didn’t envy her that task from what little I’d seen of the home repair business in Southern California.
    One thing I’d learned in the last eighteen months is that this part of the country has its own speed. I’d had portions of my condo worked on in Missouri and the projects were always slower and more expensive than expected, but only to a degree. Here, everything seemed to take twice as long as promised and cost an incredible amount. And nobody was going to want to take on a job someone else had gotten this far into.
    All this was going to make my life as a tenant a pretty miserable experience, but that would be nothing compared to what Dot and Buck were going to have to deal with. I figured she would be right after me in line Wednesday night, and I told Linnette so.
    “That’s probably true. Was she close to Frank?” As group leader, Linnette ran our Christian Friends sessions and guided us all through the thornier issues, consulting Pastor George if things got too difficult for her to handle.
    “They didn’t seem to be that close. Mostly she complained because he expected all kinds of breaks because he was family, but wasn’t giving her any in return,” I told Linnette truthfully. Frank had struck me as the kind of cousin you’d never want to kiss, but that might just be my opinion. I’d probably seen more of his day-to-day antics than Dot had, since I’d been living in the apartment he was remodeling and she had a fairly full life on the other end of the property and beyond.
    “Well, maybe it will all work out fairly easily. Bring it up first thing after prayers Wednesday night and at least you’ll have us all pulling for you.” She got up and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Now that Maria sent you home, you don’t want to come over and shelve returns, do you? I’m short workers as usual.”
    Normally I might have taken her up on her offer, but I found that once I’d gotten all the morning’s events told, I was beginning to feel worn out. “I think I’m actually going home. Maybe pick up some fish tacos on the way and call it an evening.” Fish tacos were one of those things my Missouri relatives couldn’t even imagine that I’d gotten almost addicted to in California. They’re really fantastic, if you like fish to begin with. They’re also nothing like a pallid Midwestern taco of packaged crunchy shell, ground beef, iceberg lettuce and cheese, either.
    Picking up a couple grilled mahi-mahi tacos with avocado salsa and a cold diet soda sounded better and better. I would put my feet up, dispense with propriety and eat in the living room when I got home. I made my goodbyes to Linnette and an hour later I was watching the evening game shows on TV and nodding off over an open textbook. The fish tacos had been every bit as good as I expected them to be, but putting food in my stomach just made me realize how tired I was.
    I noticed that Dot and Buck had gotten home sometime while I was away, and Dot had left a message on my answering machine. “This is Dot. I’ve already talked to Detective Fernandez, and he told me all about Frank. I’m so