The Trouble With Angels Page 0,12

everything she'd found out about Catherine Goodwin. She could handle this prayer request with one wing tied behind her back! "I'm really pleased to work with such a wonderful older woman."

"Just wait until I tell you what I learned," Shirley said, slumping onto a chair and raising her feet onto the ottoman. Both her arms dangled over the sides as if it demanded too much energy to lift them. "I'm afraid I'm going to need help. Lots and lots of help."

"You've got it," Goodness assured her. "Really, Shirley, this is the beauty of the three of us working together."

"We're a team."

"A team," Gabriel repeated as if the idea of the three of them assigned to the same city should have been outlawed.

"Lighten up, Gabe," Goodness said, and pressed her hand against her hip. "We're going to be so good you won't even know we're on assignment."

"Los Angeles could use a bit of our help," Mercy said, thinking about all she'd seen in those brief moments allotted her.

"I don't think California's prepared for the likes of you three," Gabriel grumbled.

"None of these prayer requests should take long," Mercy said, feeling confident. As far as she could see, all she had to do was subtly steer Ted Griffin's interest toward a certain service director and leave the rest up to the two of them. She'd do it, Mercy vowed, without causing Gabriel any grief, either. She was, after all, an angel of her word.

"I need all three of you back here soon," Gabriel reminded them.

"How soon?" This came from Shirley.

Mercy didn't know the full extent of her friend's assignment, but the case seemed to be troubling Shirley. When she'd finished with hers, which shouldn't take any more than two or three days, she'd give her friend a hand.

"Before Christmas," Gabriel told them sternly.

"Before Christmas?" Goodness repeated. "But that's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible with God," the archangel reminded them.

Shirley released a long sigh. "I wonder how long it's been since he visited L.A."

Chapter Four

Maureen tossed a frozen entree into her grocery cart with a decided lack of enthusiasm. One of these days, when her legal fees were paid in full, she was going to enjoy the sheer luxury of eating in a restaurant again. One with waiters and real plates.

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate your keeping Karen for me," Maureen told her mother, who pushed the cart next to her own.

Beverly Shields leaned over the frozen-food counter for a can of orange juice. "Any time, Maureen, you know that. The child's a delight."

"I don't dare ask Brian to keep her. Which reminds me," she said, craning her neck to look one aisle over, "I need antacid tablets."

"Why couldn't you ask Brian?" her mother asked, following her over to the next aisle.

Maureen was sorry she'd mentioned her ex-husband's name. "Because."

"That makes no sense," Beverly said. "He is Karen's father."

"Don't remind me." Karen was the only good thing to come out of her sick marriage. "Might I remind you he hasn't asked for his court-appointed visitation rights in over a year? I can just imagine what he'd say if I called him out of the blue and asked him to watch Karen for three days while I was away on a business trip."

"He just might surprise you."

Maureen snickered. "I've had about all the surprises I can take from that man. Trust me, Mother, the less I'm in contact with Brian, the better."

"Perhaps."

Beverly was quiet, too quiet. It had surprised Maureen when her mother invited herself along on this grocery shopping expedition. Shopping wasn't Maureen's favorite task. Not when she was struggling to make ends meet. It didn't help matters any to have Karen constantly dragging how much she wanted a horse into every conversation, as if Maureen could afford such an extravagance. As it was, she could barely squeeze enough for Christmas out of their already tight budget.

"Karen had another one of her nightmares," Beverly said casually as they rounded the corner to the shelves of cereals.

"When?" Maureen asked, which was a good indication of how frazzled this information left her. Karen had awakened screaming the night Maureen arrived home from her Seattle trip. It had taken the better part of an hour to calm her daughter. The twelve-year-old had clung to her until Maureen was afraid the youngster had cut off the blood circulation in her arm.

"The second night she was with us," Beverly answered. "She shook something fierce."

"Did she tell you what the dream was about?"

"Not a word."

Maureen bit down