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sandwich and handed it to Jackson on a plate, with a napkin.

“Ms. Bowman is a really nice lady, Mom.” Jackson dived into his lunch like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“Easy there. You don’t want to choke.”

Jackson made a smacking sound as he chewed, knowing that his mom would say something. She gave him a look, then smiled. Jackson did the same, then continued to eat like a normal person. “I was pretending to be Buddy. He chomps on his Bully Stick like that.”

“You really like going over there, don’t you?” Colleen took the seat across from him at the kitchen table.

“Yes. Like I said, she’s a very nice lady.” He took another bite. “I wish she would come out and play with us sometime. I bet Buddy would like it, too.”

“Maybe one of these days.” Colleen wished it were true, too. “So what are you going to do this afternoon?”

Jackson shrugged. “Probably ride my bike over to Billy’s, if that’s OK with you.”

Billy Warren lived on the next block. Their streets were parallel dead ends, and the connecting road had light traffic. Jackson knew that once he got to the end of his block, he had to walk his bike over to Billy’s street. It seemed silly, but Colleen was wary about Jackson’s being on a bicycle where there were cars going in both directions. One slip, and he could be in harm’s way. Birchwood Lane only had five houses, so the only cars coming down the street were those owned by the people who lived there, delivery people, or friends and family. Everyone knew there were children in the neighborhood and minded the speed limit. Except for Andy. He drove as slow as molasses, but no one cared. His car was big enough to see from one end of the street to the other, and everyone knew to get out of his way.

Andy’s house was across from Colleen’s. The house next to his, which was catty-corner to hers, had been on the market for two months. There would be an occasional open house, which was the only time Colleen worried about traffic on their street.

She heard a car door open and close, and went to the window to see who it was. It was Marjorie Stiles, the real-estate agent, exchanging the FOR SALE sign with one that said SOLD.

“What’s up, Mom?” Jackson was still working on his lunch.

“Looks like we’re going to be getting new neighbors.”

“Do they have kids?” Jackson asked.

“I don’t know, honey. The agent just put up the ‘sold’ sign.”

“Maybe we should go ask?” Jackson wouldn’t mind another kid on the block. At present, he was the only one.

Colleen thought about it a minute. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to find out who was going to live on her street, so close to her house and son. “OK. Let’s go! Are you finished with your lunch?”

Jackson wiped his mouth and turned his plate over to show her.

“Put it in the sink, and we’ll go over.”

Jackson obeyed and grabbed his baseball jacket. Colleen pulled a wrap around her shoulders. It was spring, but there was still a bit of a chill in the air. She put her cell phone in the back pocket of her jeans. It was always a crapshoot getting cell service. It depended on where you stood, but it was never consistent. Colleen thought she was incredibly lucky it had worked the night of the domestic disturbance; otherwise, she and Jackson would have had to climb out the window.

They crossed the street and greeted Marjorie Stiles. “Hey, Marge! I see you sold the house,” Colleen said.

“Hey, Colleen. Hey, Jackson. Yes. A very nice, youngish family. They have a son who is around twelve and a daughter who’s a little younger than Jackson.”

Jackson was getting excited about the idea of having a boy on the street to play with.

“When is the closing?” Colleen asked.

“Next week,” Margie answered.

“So soon?” Colleen asked.

“Yes, they had the cash. They’d put a deposit on another house, but the deal fell through. And now they have to move out because the person who bought their house was promised a move-in date. Since it was a cash deal, we were able to put a rush on it. They’ll be moving in very soon.”

“Wow. That is fast,” Colleen said.

“Yeah. The Bentleys were anxious to close. It’s been on the market for way too long. I kept telling Mr. Bentley that he was asking too much, so when the cash offer was put on the table, he couldn’t snap up the money quick enough.”

Margie leaned over and whispered in Colleen’s ear. “I’ve heard that the older kid had a run-in with the police, so keep an eye on Jackson.”

“Great,” Colleen said sarcastically. That’s all she needed. More trouble. “Anything serious?” She held her breath.

“Shoplifting, I think.” Margie stood back, looking at her handiwork.

“Do you know what kind of shoplifting?”

“I think he stole a motorcycle.”

“What? That’s not shoplifting.” Colleen was beside herself.

“Because he’s a minor, they went easy on him.”

Colleen shook her head in dismay.

“Don’t worry. His mother told me that he’s been on his best behavior since they put him in juvie for a weekend.”

“Kind of a scared straight thing?” Colleen asked.

“I guess you could call it that.”

Colleen knew all too well about juvenile detention programs, having been in the teaching profession for over a decade. She had to admit that there wasn’t a whole lot to do in Hibbing. “Well, I hope you’re right about his good behavior. I have enough problems right now.”

“Gotcha,” Marge replied. “Take it easy, Colleen. See ya, Jackson.” Marge got in her car and waved as she drove away.

“What did you mean about problems, Mom? You and Dad?”

“I guess you could say that. Come on. Let’s go back into the house.” Colleen was fit to be tied. She really did not need to have to worry about someone being a bad influence on her son.

“Mom? Are you mad?” Jackson asked innocently.

“No, sweetie. I just need to figure out

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