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Keith was midway down the stairs. He looked small, his short legs stretching to reach the tread. If he fell…

I shook away a sense of foreboding and hurried after him.

Peg turned in surprise when we reached the kitchen. There was a welcome smell of bacon and eggs. She beamed at Keith. “Aren’t you the big guy to dress all by yourself.”

He shook his head. “Jerrie helped me.” He pointed straight at me, but of course, only he could see me.

Peg slowly nodded. “I see.” Obviously she didn’t. “You have an imaginary friend. That’s very nice.” She turned roughly in my direction and gave a formal bow. “Good morning, Jerrie. I’ll set a place for you, too.”

Peg dished up bacon and toast and scrambled eggs for Jerrie’s plate.

She fixed French toast as well and took time to open a can of tuna fish cat food for the calico. “Here you go, Duchess.” By the time she turned back, Jerrie’s plate was empty.

Peg’s eyes widened. “My goodness, Keith, you are really hungry this morning!”

I smiled at him.

Keith smiled back, an impish, lively, pleased grin.

Footsteps thudded from the hallway. The door burst open. “Can you set an extra place?” Tucker’s grin was disarming. Today he wore a thick red cotton pullover with Levi’s and boots. His cheeks still sported a fuzz of beard. “You remember I promised to pick you guys up first thing? Gina, of course, is taking forever to get dressed.”

I wondered if the house was rarely locked or if he had a key.

Peg licked a smudge of powdered sugar from the back of one hand. “I’d completely forgotten. You and Gina go on without me. I need to take Keith shopping, get him a warm coat. You don’t need my help to pick out the tree.”

I looked from one to the other, puzzled. The Scotch pine in the living room was beautifully decorated. I am partial to taffeta bows on Christmas trees.

“Bacon, eggs, and French toast coming up.” She turned back to the range.

“I’m your man.” He pulled up a chair opposite Keith. “Hey, buckaroo, I brought you something special.”

Keith put down his fork, his thin face eager.

Tucker made an elaborate show of reaching into his pocket and pulling out a soft leather pouch. He held it up. “Can you guess what’s inside?”

His face solemn, Keith shook his head.

Tucker leaned forward, spoke in a stage whisper. “You’ve heard of buried treasure?”

Keith’s dark eyes widened.

“Buckaroo, here is a treasure just for you and you can spend it for special things you want.” Tucker loosed the drawstrings, upended the bag. Plastic gold coins tumbled free, creating a pile that looked for all the world like a pirate’s hoard. “Now, here’s what you do. You think about things you’d like to have—maybe a Matchbox car or a spyglass or a cowboy hat—and you tell Cousin Tuck. I’ll find whatever it is or the next best thing and you can give me however many coins you think it’s worth.” Tucker held out a big hand. “Is that a deal, buckaroo?”

Laughing, Peg set a filled plate before Tucker. “It sounds like you’re trying to turn Keith into a little trader.”

Tucker finished a piece of bacon. “It’s in the blood. It didn’t matter what we were trading, comic books or girls’ phone numbers, Mitch always won.”

Duchess walked majestically to the kitchen door, meowed, lifted a paw.

Peg laughed. “Coming, Your Majesty.” She hurried to the back door.

Tucker gave Keith a swift glance. “Looks like it’s happened again.” His voice was low. His expression as he stared at Keith was suddenly bleak.

The door creaked and Peg didn’t hear his words. Cold air flowed inside.

In the imperious way of cats, Duchess remained in place, tail flicking.

“Come on, Duchess.” Peg tried to shoo the calico forward.

Duchess gave her a gimlet stare, then stepped outside.

The door clicked shut.

I remembered the earlier sound of a closing door in the upper hallway. I’d watched a little boy at the top of steep stairs and felt a rush of fear. In this warm and cheerful kitchen, Keith seemed utterly safe.

It was my job to be certain he remained safe.

CHAPTER FOUR

Gina rushed into the kitchen. Her black cashmere turtleneck emphasized the rich plum of slacks that flared wide at the bottom.

I really liked that style, the low snug fit over the hips and a saucy front tie. I’d have to find out what the slacks were called. They were certainly distinctive enough to have a name.

Gina’s gaze jerked to the counter near the stove and a tray covered with a fine damask napkin. Some of the tension eased from her thin face. “I’ll take Susan’s breakfast up.”

Peg looked surprised. “That would be nice. I need to fix Keith more French toast.”

Tucker’s brows drew down in a quick frown. “Hey, let’s get the show on the road. We’ve got to find the right tree.”

Gina was already picking up the tray. “I need to talk to Susan. I’ll be down as soon as I can.”

As the swinging door shut behind her, Tucker looked exasperated.

“More coffee?” Peg held up the carafe.

Tucker nodded, his face drawn in a frown. “Gina’s in trouble, isn’t she?”

Peg looked hesitant.

Tucker gripped the mug. “So what else is new? How much does she owe?” His voice was weary.

Outside Susan’s door, Gina hesitated, then gave a brisk nod. She opened the door and called out, “Breakfast.” She carried the tray to the table near Susan’s chair in front of the fake fire.

Susan wore no makeup, but her lovely face looked younger. She smiled at Gina. “Thank you, my dear. I suppose Peg is busy with Keith.” Her smile grew wider, her eyes shone. “Oh, what a happy day. Gina, I haven’t had a happy day in so long.”

Gina’s eyes glistened. “We’re glad for you, Susan. He’s a nice little boy.” She removed the napkin and the cover. “Do you want coffee now?”

At Susan’s nod, Gina poured from the hottle. Then she took a deep breath. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Her voice was shaky.

Some of the light fled Susan’s face. She looked up, gave a tiny sigh. “What’s wrong?”

Gina stood stiff and still, her thin face twisted in despair, her shoulders hunched. “I owe almost forty thousand dollars on my credit cards.”

Susan’s aristocratic features stiffened. Her dark eyes gazed at Gina with a long measuring look. She didn’t speak.

Gina’s hands twisted together. “I know. I’m a fool. But I had that good job for a while and I got so many credit card offers and I signed up and I wasn’t thinking. I was able to make the payments until I lost my job and now I can’t find a job.”

Susan glanced at Gina’s outfit. “I saw those trousers in a Neiman catalog. They were expensive. Bedford pants. Very distinctive.”

Gina stared at the floor.

“You have beautiful clothes. You’ve always liked fine things.” Susan was more grieved than scolding. “You’ve always spent money you didn’t have. Tucker has helped you, hasn’t he? I suppose you’ve asked Jake, too.”

Gina pulled her hands apart, turned them out in appeal. “I’m desperate. I can’t get a job, and I get all these threatening phone calls.”

Susan was brusque. “You were able to make the payments. Don’t you understand, Gina? That’s going into debt. The interest charged is huge. What will happen if I pay the debts? Will you live on what you can earn, buy things only if you have the money to pay for them? Somehow I’m afraid you’ll fall back into your old ways. I don’t know. Maybe this time you will have to work out your problems by yourself.” She made a sudden swift gesture. “I’ll think about what should be done. Let’s not talk any more. I have much to do today.” She turned to her breakfast, her face stern.

Susan gestured with her ebony black cane. “Look toward the back of the closet.” There was a becoming pink flush in her pale cheeks. Her softly waved hair was brushed back, emphasizing her expressive face. Regal in her red silk brocade dressing gown, she was full of cheer. There was no hint of her uncomfortable morning encounter with Gina.