Page 99 of High Intensity

“We baked them.” My girl is wearing a big smile.

I point at her. “You did?”

“Me and Lucas. They’re banana muffins.”

“How is that possible? I was barely gone an hour.”

“We were quick,” she says proudly.

“Well, can I have one?”

She nods, offering me the plate, and I grab one. Then she informs me, “We packed some up for Lucas’s mom as well.”

“That’s a great idea.”

We are heading to Kalispell to have lunch with Trudy Wolff. Lucas has been to see her, and has updated her on all that happened, but she really wanted to meet Hayley and see me. Since I haven’t done a session with the dogs at Wellspring in about a month, we’re bringing Peanut and Nugget as well.

“Do you want another coffee with that?” Lucas asks, just as I take a massive bite of my muffin.

All I can do is nod while I chew. The muffin is delicious, and I’m about to tell Hayley that when the dogs start barking just moments before the doorbell rings.

“Quiet, guys,” I call to the dogs as I weave my way through the bodies to get to the front door.

I open it to find an entire contingent on my porch. Sheriff Ewing, along with the CPS social worker whose name has escaped me, a gray-haired woman with a round face and a friendly smile, and a man in a suit and an overcoat oozing money. I’ve never seen those two before.

The sheriff speaks first.

“I would’ve called first but was asked not to.”

It sounds ominous, and that delicious bite of muffin is turning sour in my stomach. In the background, I hear Lucas telling Hayley to take the dogs in the bedroom before he joins me at the door. I’m grateful when I feel his steady hand settle on my hip in support.

“I’m afraid that was my doing,” the social worker pipes up. “As a matter of policy, we don’t always announce our visits. It allows us to get a more… accurate representation of the home situation.”

What the hell is her name? Something B…Becker?Babcock?

“And is it also policy to show up with the sheriff in tow?” Lucas questions sharply.

“Ms. Buckman didn’t ask the sheriff to attend. That was me,” the man in the suit announces with some authority.

Elizabeth Buckman, that was her name.

All of this feels like a weird standoff and it’s making me very uneasy.

“And who are you?” Lucas demands to know.

“My name is Oliver Levitz with Chambers, Levitz, Cromwell, and Associates,” he recites.

Lawyers. My stomach is officially in knots.

“Forgive us for barging in on you,” the lady with the friendly smile apologizes. “I’m sure we all want what’s best for Hayley. Could we come in?”

It’s too soon. On some level I’ve known this would be a temporary solution, but I haven’t allowed myself to think too far ahead.

“My name is Heather Iverson,” the woman continues when we reluctantly step aside to let the group inside. “I am…wasthe Vallard family’s housekeeper.”

“As per the Vallard’s last will and testament, Ms. Iverson and I were jointly named guardian for young Ms. Vallard,” the lawyer explains.

My heart sinks.

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