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will come up with a reason to make him very uncomfortable. Ike will stay there as long as he thinks necessary to protect you. Does that work for you?”
    â€œOh, Beth, that sounds perfect. I had confidence you would come through for me, and this Ike sounds like such a gentleman.”
    Sure, as long as it didn’t inconvenience Harve. “Now, that takes care of tonight. We need a plan for tomorrow and the next nights. Any ideas?”
    I grimaced, thankful she couldn’t see me, held the phone away from my mouth, and took a deep breath to gather my courage. Then I said into the mouthpiece, “Maybe you could visit Harve and Delores for a week or so. I’m sure your Snodbucket will grow discouraged with your absence.”
    â€œStrudnocker. Strudnocker, not Snodbucket.” The line went quiet, then Mom said, “No. That won’t work. Last time I visited them, it was awkward. They had to double up the kids in the same bedroom. They only have a three-bedroom house, you know.”
    Crap. I had played my ace of spades, and she trumped it. Where to go next? “Mom, you have to get out of Dallas. Ike is going out on a limb tonight. I can’t ask him to hang around forever.”
    â€œWell, you could invite me to Florida. I mean, we never get to spend time together. This would be a perfect opportunity for some mother-daughter time. I could meet your boyfriend. If there’s a chance he’ll propose, I should really meet him first, don’t you think? You remember what a big mistake you made the first time—even after I tried to tell you. I could catch a flight out in the morning.”
    Damn. Trapped like a salmon charging up stream. I had leapt right into Mom’s net. My mind spun like a centrifuge, but no fresh ideas popped out.
    â€œBeth? Are you still there? You do want me to come, don’t you? You can show me the beach. I have this great new bikini I found on sale a few weeks ago. If you like it, I can give it to you. It’s pretty daring. Your boyfriend will love it.”
    Just what I wanted, seeing my mom in a daring bikini—or worse yet, my being in one. I had the perfect drawer I could bury it in. There was only one thing to say so I said it, “That’s a great idea, Mom. Book a flight in the morning, then call me with your arrival time. I’ll pick you up at the airport.”
    â€œThat won’t be necessary. I prefer to rent a car. I’ll need some way to get around while you work your cases. You are working, aren’t you?”
    My suspicious mind said this might not be spontaneous. It sounded like she had everything worked out in advance. Was there really a Lanny Strudnocker outside her house? Whatever, s he was still my mom, and I had to believe she had a problem. “Call with your schedule, then call when you land. I’ll meet you here at the house.”
    â€œI need your cell number. You’ve never given it to me.”
    Crap. Another trap I’d walked into. It’s not that I didn’t want her to have my number. I just couldn’t afford her interrupting a surveillance or other case activity with one of her premonitions. But, like they say, when caught in a blueberry patch with blue lips and a blue tongue, just admit you’re stealing blueberries. I gave her the cell number, then hung up with the excuse I expected a call from Ike at any moment.
    Everything was coming together. Well, if you can call having my mother as a houseguest for an indeterminate amount of time coming together.
    Don’t get me wrong. I love her as much as any divorced daughter can love a mother who views marriage and kids as the number one priority for her offspring. Harve had not disappointed her. I had, and she let me know at every opportunity. That didn’t mean she was one to say, “Get married and have babies.” No, she was much more subtle. I would hear things like, “Oh, Harve’s children are so perfect. If