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do for all involved.
    While the decision was clearly in the best interests of the children, it still gave Mara pause to have played a part, however small, in another mother being separated from her babies, even though she knew full well that Kelly had brought her troubles upon herself. Mara had wanted to shake the young mother, shake her good and hard, for having put herself and her children in such a situation.
    You had a choice, Mara had wanted to shout at the sobbing woman as her children left the courtroom with their grandparents. We don’t all get a choice. . . .
    Mara scooped dry dog food into Spike’s new Scooby-Doo dish, then gave him fresh water. She turned up the volume on the television, hoping to catch the weather forecast for the morning. She’d been looking forward to her early morning twice-weekly run with several friends and was hoping that the prediction of rain had changed.
    “. . . and in other news, we have a somewhat bizarre story of two women who have the same name, who lived in the same town, and who met with the same fate exactly one week apart.” The anchorman spoke directly into the camera. “Jason Wrigley is standing by at the Avon County courthouse with the story.”
    Headlights flashing through the living room window announced Annie’s arrival. Mara had just begun to head for the front door when the reporter’s face appeared on the television.
    “This is Mary Douglas,” the reporter was saying as he displayed a picture of a white-haired woman in her early sixties.
    Mara watched in fascination as he held up a second photograph of another woman years younger, with dark hair and an olive complexion, and said, “And this is Mary Douglas. What do these two woman have in common besides their names?”
    The reporter paused for effect, then faced the camera squarely, both photographs held in one hand, the microphone in the other.
    “Both of these women lived in Lyndon. Both women were killed in their homes in that small community, in exactly the same manner, exactly one week apart. The body of the second victim was found earlier this afternoon. Local police have admitted that they are baffled as to motive.”
    Spike ran to the door and barked when he heard Annie’s heels on the walk, but Mara’s attention remained fixed on the television.
    Video played of a prerecorded press conference. “Without divulging the manner in which the women were murdered, we’re investigating the possibility that the first killing was an error. That the second victim may have been the intended target.”
    The police spokesman paused to listen to a question from the floor, then repeated the question for those who had not heard. “Do we feel it was a contract killing, was the question. I can only say at this point that anything is possible. It has been suggested that perhaps the killer had known only the name of his victim—no description, no address—and that after killing the first victim and perhaps seeing some news coverage or reading the obituary in the newspaper, he realized that he hadn’t killed the right woman. According to friends and family of both victims, neither Mary Douglas had an enemy in the world. Both women were well liked, both lived somewhat quiet lives. So with no apparent motive, we can’t rule out any scenario yet.”
    “Mara?” Annie called from the doorway.
    The police spokesman’s face was taut with concentration as he spoke of the murders. “Yes, we think he sought out the second Mary Douglas and killed her, though we do not know why either of these women would have been targeted, for that matter. . . .”
    “Mara?”
    “This is bizarre.” Mara shook her head.
    “What is?” Annie set the bag she carried on the coffee table.
    “This news report . . .” She was still shaking her head slowly, side to side. “Two women named Mary Douglas were murdered one week apart. Killed in the same way, but the police aren’t saying how they were killed.”
    Annie frowned.
    “It’s a