Now why on earth is there an oldish Buick station wagon plowing through the snow with its right front wheel missing?  It's about the strangest thing I've seen (excluding things I dreamt or imagined) all day, and I watch as it grinds to a stop in front of me.

The cold's beginning to creep through my socks, so I stay on the fence hoping to preserve some of their heat-retention ability for the run back to the house.  A bearded man gets out from behind the wheel, and a woman with flowing dark hair looks out of the passenger seat, her eyes shielded by sunglasses.  "Nihao," I say to both of them.  "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"We hit a fencepost," the driver says.  "The wheel came right off.  I was trying to get to a phone.  Is there a town near here?"

I have to think about it a moment.  I know there is one, but it's...  "Six miles," I say, pointing west.  "I wouldn't drive it that far like that, you'll just hurt it worse."  All of a sudden I'm bristly at the notion of having people around, but my mouth says the right thing without waiting.  I'm not feeling particularly pink-cloudy and I'm surprised when I hear myself say, "Want to use my phone?  I've got hot chocolate, too."

"That would be fantastic," the man says.  He seems confused that I'm out here without shoes or a coat, and that's just fine.  "I'm Martin, and this is Gray."  The woman nods.

"I'm Lexi.  Nice to meet you."  My face is wet with melting snow.  I really should go back inside soon.  "It's going to get stormy, too.  Hope you didn't have anywhere to be quickly."

"We were hoping to get to Traverse City," Gray says.  She has the most wonderful Italian accent, better than Molly's grandmother's. 

"It's our one-year anniversary," Martin says.  Gray looks at him as if she didn't expect him to say that.  "Dating, that is," he adds.

"Of course it is," I say.  "Mr. Murphy might have ruined it for you, though.  Or not.  Come inside, have a spare bedroom if you need one."  I hop down off the fence and lead the way back to the house.  I'm getting used to the idea of having guests for the night.  Taking care of people is pleasant.  Halfway there, Nikki's just getting out of the snow, brushing herself off and sporting more wounded dignity than Amy-Ann did the time she fell in the toilet.

"Fuck," she says under her breath.

"Oh, dear," I say.  I think you need snowshoes."

"Taking a tumble, are we?" Gray asks.

"I'm okay," Nikki says.  She doesn't look at Gray and I'm not sure she's okay, she looks like she might have really hurt herself.  I brush snow off of her and introduce her.  "This is Martin, and his girlfriend Gray.  Isn't that just the coolest name?  They have an Estate Wagon problem, so I offered them hot chocolate and a free phone call.  They're entitled to it by law, you know."

"We were going to try to make it the rest of the way," Martin says.  "Figured if the roads stayed snowy we wouldn't do too much damage."

"He's the optimist of the family," Gray says.  She's still smiling but doesn't sound completely happy.

"I could fix that wheel maybe," I say.  "Buicks are tough.  If the rotor and spindle aren't tweaked, all you need is a wheel."  I squat to consider the car.  When I'm down like that, only my head sticks out above the snow, and I feel like some sort of anti-aircraft gun emplacement.  I scan the horizon for the Luftwaffe.  All is quiet on the eastern front, except I'm facing south.  I notice that the Buick's back bumper is a two-by-six.

Nikki says, "I'm cold.  I'm going inside.  Are you coming, Lexi?"

I want to go and look at the car, but I should probably put shoes on first as my feet are getting freezy.  Nikki leads Gray and Martin and I indoors.  After digging out some proper winter gear, I go back to the fence.  When I get there, Alison sitting in the passenger seat of Gray and Martin's Buick.

"You're such a Samaritan," my dead sister says.

"I helps those what can't help themselves," I say, squatting to look at the damage.  "I can probably get them up and running.  It's not like I've never worked in the snow before."

Alison looks over my shoulder.  Her feet don't crunch in the snow, of course.  "What's the verdict?"

It's not right.  Once I pry away the snow that's packed itself tight around the brake disc and caliper, I can see that there's not any real damage.  The brake rotor is fine, and the studs aren't stripped or broken off like they should be if the car really lost a wheel whacking a fencepost.  The fender isn't dented either, for that matter.  "How can you get a wheel knocked off without bending any sheet metal?" I ask the car.  Old Buicks don't bend easily, but to lose a wheel to an impact without hurting anything else is just about impossible.

"What's wrong?"

"I have a funny feeling that if we walk a mile or two up the road, we'll find the spot where they stopped to pull the wheel and toss it in the ditch."

"Which seems like a strange thing to do if you're on the way to Traverse City," Alison says.

"It does, doesn't it?" 

"You think they want to get in your house?"

"Oh, that's just paranoid.  Who'd do a silly thing like that?  And anyway, if someone who's not related to Becka Packard wants to stay in my house, they just have to ask, everybody who's anybody knows that."

"Then I guess we're not dealing with anybody."

I make a snowball and throw it at the windshield with a complete lack of joy.  Things are not all grapes and roses with Gray and Martin.  "I hate it when people insist on trying to steal what I'd give willingly," I tell Alison. 

"Who are you talking about?"  There's a funny curl to her voice.

"Hm?"

"Are you talking about these two, or about Doctor Edward and Nikki?"

I have to think about that for a moment, because she's got a point, there's a wiggle in the back of my head that something's not right about them, too.  Which is a shame, because I like Nikki. "Pah," I say. 

"Go inside before you freeze to death, sweetie."

That's funny, because Alison never used to call me 'sweetie.'  I wonder where she picked it up, and since it makes me feel good to hear her say it, I go in.  Malice meets me at the door with a greeting sound; I squat and she jumps up and climbs my back to crouch on my shoulder for a ride.