"The resort was never listed with a realtor. He had no right getting angry when we turned him down.” Impatience squeezed at Sadie like a vice. Witt's End was the most prime vacation property in Northern Minnesota. For over twenty years every developer in the upper Midwest had tried to buy their resort. Some of the locals, including Judge Kimmer, had also expressed an interest in the property, but Sadie held fast by declining their offers.

The resort featured three thousand feet of shoreline dotted with towering Norway pines and sheltered one of the most popular fishing bays on Pinecone Lake. A reservation list spanning two years, a lodge, a restaurant, a marina, a sand beach, and a gift shop guaranteed many return visits by satisfied vacationers.

"You were the one who suggested we get this over with as soon as possible. Because you were in such a hurry, they selected an earlier court date,” Sadie said. “Now we're stuck with it. If we'd have waited, Judge Kimmer wouldn't have been assigned to our case."

Jane pushed back from the table. “I couldn't wait because I'm dying by inches every day. I can't think about anything but this lawsuit.” As Jane paced, she fidgeted with a pleat in her tan slacks. “I know you're right. I know I have to put this out of my mind. You've got the crossers to keep you busy. I don't have anything to occupy my mind."

"It's not like I asked to be a death coach,” Sadie muttered.

"Then why did you take the job?"

"Job? Job? Being a death coach isn't a job. It just happened."

"Well it sure seems like a job,” Jane said. “You're busy every day dealing with them. And now you think there might be another one out there. You need to find someone else to do it."

Through lips tight with exasperation Sadie said, “You know I was chosen to guide them. How else will they know how to cross over to the other side?"