There were quite a few cars parked at the community center and a large bus getting ready to haul off the twenty adults who were taking a Zoo Maintenance course. A truck from a craft store was unloading some rented sewing machines and sergers for another class that was being held in the building. And a number of women wearing remarkably unflattering gymnastic clothes were waiting for their ride to an aerobic dancing studio.

“If I ever dress like that, have me locked up," Jane said.

Shelley looked her up and down. "You're hardly better today. You're quite lumpy. Are you packed for a three-day camp-out?"

“Just the everyday necessities. Oh, no. I'd forgotten there were stairs."

“There's a handicapped ramp around the side. I wouldn't be caught dead with you scooting backwards on your butt.”

There were only two people in the room when they found where they were supposed to be. One was a stocky, balding man in his early sixties, reading a magazine. The other was a rather perky-looking young man sitting behind the desk at the front. He got up when Jane and Shelley came in.

“I was hoping more of you would come," he said, flashing a handsome smile. "The article in the local paper about Ms. Jackson's accident must have made a lot of the sign-ups think the class was canceled. What did you do to your foot?"

“I tripped on a curb, " Jane said.

“Oh," the man replied. "I'm Stefan Eckert. I'm the director of the Arts and Crafts part of the community project."

“You're teaching the class?" Shelley asked.

“Oh, no! I'm not remotely qualified. But I've got a substitute. A very interesting man who just happened to be in town this week. I'm just here to catch people and assure them the class will go on. And sit in on as much of it as I can.”

Jane introduced herself and Shelley and asked, "Do you know anything about Ms. Jackson's condition?”