down the steps to the church hall. “You said I’m taking good care of Cindy and Gina. I’m really insulted by this.”
“So you’ve said. I told you, sweetheart, I think you take excellent care of them. I’m just worried that you shouldn’t have to. I’ve put too much on your shoulders lately.”
“But I like taking care of them.”
“Look, humor your old dad. This is the time of your life you should be enjoying yourself. Give it a couple weeks. Okay, princess?”
“Are these new participants?” Justine said, forcing herself to sound thrilled. But inside, her stomach did a quick flip, then a slow roll. She was going to have a living, breathing reminder of Matthew Trent every day—three of them, in fact. He already invaded her dreams. Broke her concentration. And worse, battered at the walls surrounding her heart with his obvious devotion to his little girls. Now she was doomed to witness the love he showed them, every day except Saturday.
Why are You doing this to me, Lord?
“I’m sure you remember Gina. She’s in all-day kindergarten,” Matt said as he put a hand lovingly on Gina’s head, then moved the caress to his nexteldest child. “This is Cindy. She’s in fourth grade. And last but first in the family is Leslie, who doesn’t think she needs to be here.”
Justine filled in the girls’ sign-up sheets. “Well,” she said, and took a deep calming breath, which unfortunately drew in the scent of Matt’s aftershave, “I guess we’ll have to do our best to change your mind, Leslie. Welcome to After-School Days, all three of you. Several of our senior citizens have volunteered to help the older kids with homework. We also got a donation of several computers, and I had high-speed Internet hooked up today so you can do research for school projects. We also have a cooperative agreement with the library. Miss Neal will be taking a group over there almost every day, so that’s a possibility, too. You just have to sign up for either when you need it. Everyone will take turns.”
She turned to look at the still-mutinous Leslie. “If you really like working with younger children, Leslie, several of the older high school girls have volunteered to help the younger children with homework and to assist in those rooms with general mayhem-control. I’m sure your help would be greatly appreciated.”
That, at least, got a small smile from the girl. Feeling like a comedian trying to win over a tough crowd, Justine went on. “And we got a wonderful surprise today. Monica Tobridge came by and asked if I’d like her to run a cheerleading class even though she isn’t a church member. The sign-up sheet is over on the bulletin board.”
“Her brother’s a creep,” Leslie muttered.
“Yeah. He sometimes yells mean stuff at us,” Cindy put in. Leslie poked her.
“I guess it’s good to know it isn’t just an adult sentiment,” Justine said quickly.
Matt’s gaze was blazing. Young Mr. Tobridge had singled out the wrong man’s children to pick on. It looked as if Alan would have another lesson taught him in the next few weeks.
“Hopefully he’ll improve soon, but don’t judge Monica by Alan,” she told the children. “Now, your rooms will be the same as your regular Sunday school rooms. Why don’t we get you settled.”
“Les, will you take the girls on up. I’d like a word with Reverend Clemens,” Matt said.
Justine handed each girl one of the stick-on name tags she’d written up as they talked. “Here you go, girls, you’ll need to wear these just till your aide gets to know you.”
“Fine, but I still say this is a dumb idea,” Leslie groused as she shepherded the girls up the side steps toward the classroom wing.
“What can I do for you, Chief Trent?” she asked, trying once again for a businesslike tone.
Matt sighed as she almost knew he would. “You can stop retreating to square one each time we meet. Look, this is a new town for me and I don’t know many people on a personal level. Do you have a reason not to want me for a friend?”
Ashamed instantly, she forced a little smile. “What can I do for you, Matt?” she corrected herself. “I’m sorry. I’m still—” Justine broke off when the radio Matt carried on his hip squawked to life. There was a huge accident out on Route 7, the state highway nearest Safe Harbor. Some of the victims were pinned in their cars.
“I’ve got to go. I know it’s an imposition, but if I can’t get back in time, could you make sure the girls get home okay? Les knows to make our neighbors, the Hunters, aware that they’re alone. I went to college with both of them, and I trust them with the kids. Ray and Julie were the ones who put me on to the opening for Chief of Police here in Safe Harbor. This has never happened before, but I set it up with them in case of emergencies like this. Knowing the house next door to theirs was up for sale made the move here all the more attractive.”
Justine nodded, relieved that she didn’t have to answer his question, yet embarrassed by the cause. “I’ll see the children get home. Don’t worry. Just go. The accident sounds dreadful.”
After he left, Justine floated from age group to age group, checking on how the senior citizens who’d volunteered were getting along with the children. Everything seemed to be going fine so she returned to her makeshift desk to find Leslie just leaving the kitchen area.
“Oh, hi, Reverend Clemens,” the girl said, her hands fluttering nervously. “I was just…uh…getting a drink. Helping the little kids is kind of fun. Well, see ya.”
Justine frowned as she watched Leslie skip up the steps on her way back to the classroom wing. There were water fountains in the halls. Why hadn’t Leslie used one of them? She walked into the kitchen and looked around. There was a paper lunch bag in a trash can—a can Justine had emptied after the women’s altar guild left earlier in the day.
She dismissed the whole incident until the next day. As she checked the building before locking up, Justine got an impulse to check the trash: once again, there was a lunch bag in the can. It contained a sandwich, an apple and some carrot sticks. She wished she’d checked the one the day before because this time she found the initials LT on the bottom. Leslie Trent? Why would the girl throw out her lunch?
The same thing happened for the next two days, and Justine’s curiosity turned to concern. Matt’s daughter was secretly disposing of her lunches.
Deeply troubled, Justine thought back to the first time she’d seen the girl during the summer. There was no denying that Matt’s eldest child was increasingly fragile looking. Justine had thought the girl was just getting taller and losing baby fat, but now she was afraid it was more. Something was wrong, and these lunch bags were a clue.
It took another day to put her finger on what. When Justine pulled yet another bag from the trash on Friday, she remembered an article she’d read in a ministry periodical on eating disorders.
How was she going to tell Matt there was a chance his daughter was suffering from anorexia?
It was Friday, and Matt was looking forward to a whole weekend off. He’d managed to plow through a mountain of backed-up paperwork and was out of work an hour earlier than usual. It was a beautiful afternoon. All day he thought about taking the girls for a short hike up at Safe Harbor Park, and there was still enough light left to do so. Russ Mitchard said the park had the best wilderness trails on the peninsula.
