Hair stood up on the back of Sara"s neck. She choked on her coffee and then smiled weakly. “Never could drink real hot coffee,” she said, lying, and setting her cup down. “A rock for your mom? Where did you plant her?”
Not a sound came from outside, and Sara wondered if she had any protection at all.
Tripper squirmed in his chair. “I started collecting rocks when my momma went away,” he said. “Got lots of em after that.”
Sara looked sympathetically into his eyes. “Where"s Momma planted, Tripper?”
He thought a moment and couldn"t seem to come up with an answer. Then he said, “Well, under one of them boulders, I know that.”
How many more were under boulders? “Is she nearby, so you can visit her from time to time?”
Click-click.
Click-click.“Visit,” Tripp said, suddenly irritated. “I go
