CHAPTER 6
Monday morning arrived gray and chilly. From my bedroom window a nimbus of fog was just visible shrouding the far mountains. Gray fingers of cloud drifted down to caress the yellowed treetops of the Wildlife Preserve. The wooden window stuck in its track when I pulled; eventually it shuddered open and let in a flood of air as cold and sweet as the cherry cider Colorado farmers sell off the backs of their trucks this time of year.
Arch was out of school because it was Columbus Day. Since Fritz was home recovering, Patty Sue would not see him until Wednesday. As the sole person awake, I did not want to have to face the possibility of another first-strike telephone call from John Richard. I closed the window and slipped into a turtleneck and jeans before heading out for the warmth
