Just Cause by Susan Page Davis Page A

have access to that information. Add to that the bumble factor and—”
    “Bumble factor?”
    “You know—how the well-meaning but inept person inadvertently lets private information slip.”
    “Ah.” She shrugged. “I suppose Jim’s secretary might tell her girlfriend over coffee.”
    “Right. And the probation officer, or one of his low-paid assistants, might pocket a bribe in exchange for a tiny, seemingly innocuous bit of data.”
    “Not Mr. Webster.”
    “How do you know?”
    Laurel sighed. She didn’t know. It was certainly possible that her whereabouts had leaked out.
    Dan put on the turn signal and drove up a long gravel driveway toward a gabled farmhouse.
    “How much did you tell them?” she asked.
    “Just the bare bones. I mentioned the burglaries and told Owen you need a safe place temporarily. I didn’t say anything about what brought you here.”
    “Thank you. I don’t deserve your help. I hope you don’t get in trouble for not reporting the latest incident.”
    He braked to a stop before the two-bay garage and turned toward her. “I hope so, too.”
    The garage door in front of them slid up, and he eased the pickup inside. A man who looked very much like Dan stood on the step between the garage and the house. He grinned at them and put his hand up to the switch.
    “Wait until the door is down,” Dan said.
    Laurel caught her breath. “You think we’ve been followed?”
    “No, but we have to be careful.”
    He took Laurel inside and introduced her to Owen and Marissa.
    “We’re thrilled to have you here,” Marissa said. Her shoulder-length blond hair was caught back with a barrette, and she wore jeans, a maternity top and sandals. She seemed sincere and solicitous, and Laurel liked her at once.
    “Thank you. I hate to put you out, but Dan insisted I couldn’t stay at the apartment any longer.”
    “I should think not,” Owen said. He took Laurel’s backpack from Dan and disappeared down a hallway.
    Marissa smiled at them. “I just put Patrick to bed. Did you eat supper?”
    “I can’t stay long,” Dan replied. “I need to go in to the police station tonight and look over some records.”
    “Come on. Leftover stroganoff and salad.” Marissa brooked no arguments as she headed for the kitchen.
    Dan sighed with resignation. “I hope you like stroganoff.”
    “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” Laurel whispered. “She’s pregnant. What if—”
    “It’s fine.” He reached for her hand, and they went together to the kitchen. Marissa was already pulling plastic containers from the refrigerator.
    Owen came in behind them. “Patrick’s still awake. He wants to see Uncle Danny.”
    Dan grinned. “Do you mind?”
    “Go,” said Marissa. “He must have heard your voice.” As soon as Dan was out of the room, she fixed Laurel with a curious stare. “We know next to nothing. If you don’t mind my asking, what happened?”
    Laurel felt a blush spreading over her cheeks. “I’m sorry. If it’s any inconvenience—”
    “Not a bit,” said Marissa. “We’re happy to help. But this is bizarre behavior on Dan’s part.”
    “How long have you been seeing Dan?” Owen asked.
    “I’m not. We’re just friends. That is…well, we were going to go to church tomorrow, but I’m not sure Dan will let me now.”
    “He told me on the phone that you need to keep your head down,” Owen noted.
    “Yes, and it’s a little scary. Someone trashed my apartment yesterday, and today I had another intruder and some things were stolen.”
    Marissa’s face was full of concern. “Anything valuable?”
    “Not really, just a blouse and…some ice cream.”
    “Ice cream?” Owen laughed. “Your burglar must have a sweet tooth.”
    “I guess so. We almost didn’t notice, but at the last minute I checked the refrigerator.”
    “That is so weird.” Marissa put a plate in the microwave.
    “What’s weird?” Dan asked from the doorway.
    “Laurel’s burglar helping himself