See No Evil by Gayle Roper

you’re still sewing?”
    â€œYou should see the fabulous fabric I’m working with on this job. It costs three hundred dollars and more a yard.”
    â€œSome people have more money than brains. But that’s not what I meant. Are you sewing?”
    I knew very well what he meant. Was I doing my fabric mosaics? “I’m working on one for a gift.” If I didn’t fall in love with it and keep it myself.
    â€œAnna, work on them all as your gift from God.”
    â€œYes, Dad.” I put my hand over the mouth of the phone and hissed, “Lucy, go ring the doorbell nice and loud and long.”
    Shaking her head in laughing sympathy, Lucy headed for the front door.
    Dad sighed. “Is it that you love painting even though you’re not so good at it, or that you won’t admit that your father has been right all these years?”
    The doorbell sounded, and I heard voices in the front hall. Meg was home—unless Lucy was having a conversation with herself in different voices. With her anything was possible.
    â€œWhoops, the doorbell’s ringing. I’ve got to go, Dad. Thanks for calling. I’m fine and I love you. Don’t worry.” I hung up.
    I stood with my forehead against the wall. He did it to me every time. Every time. I knew he meant well, but the questions always left me feeling inadequate, as if I were disappointing not only Dad, but Mom as well. I pictured her in her radiant robe, one among thousands sitting at Jesus’ feet, shaking her head. I knew theologically that there was no sorrow in Heaven, but I still saw Mom looking distressed.
    I took a deep breath and straightened as Lucy and Meg walked into the kitchen.
    â€œGuess what?” Lucy said as she grabbed a couple of more Lorna Doones from the almost empty wrapper. “We aren’t going to the shore today. We decided to wait until you can come with us.” She waved a cookie at me. “We don’t think you should be alone.”
    I looked from one woman to the other. “You’re missing two days at the beach for me?” Can you say friends?
    Meg shrugged. “We’re not completely altruistic. We’ve got stuff to do to get ready for next week.”
    â€œBesides, how often do we get to play bodyguard?” Lucy offered her depleted cookie bag first to Meg, then me. “Your father might not realize you saw the killer, but we do.”
    Meg poured some lemonade into a glass. “Not that we’re likely to scare anyone away, but being alone when things are hard is the pits.”
    I saw, as I often did, that shadow in Meg’s eyes. Some time, somewhere, she had been in trouble alone, and the experience still haunted her. But close as we three were, shenever alluded to whatever had happened. Lucy and I had speculated a time or two, but all we knew for sure was that whatever it was, it had occurred before we knew her.
    â€œYou guys are the greatest.” I hugged Meg, then Lucy. I hesitated a minute, then said, “Gray and I had an idea.”
    Lucy all but clapped her hands. “You two? This is bound to be good.”
    â€œA dog.”
    Meg and Lucy looked at each other and grinned.
    â€œBig?” Meg asked.
    Lucy nodded. “With lots of teeth.”
    â€œWe were going to suggest it to you.” Meg rinsed the empty lemonade pitcher.
    I laughed. “You sure you don’t mind, Meg? It’s your house, after all.”
    â€œDon’t think twice about it.” Meg sliced a lemon to float in the new pitcher of lemonade she was making. “You’re much more important than unscratched doors or hairless clothes.”
    â€œHairless clothes we never have anyway, courtesy of Tipsy,” I pointed out helpfully.
    â€œWhat do you think about a Doberman?” Lucy asked, ignoring the slur on her cat’s grooming. “They snarl really well.”
    â€œThis is going to upset Tipsy,” I warned. Personally, I