Outside Harvelle's Roadhouse, Nebraska, Monday Evening

Jo eyed the ringing phone as if it was going to bite her before answering.

"Joanna Beth Harvelle," came what could quite accurately be called the Voice of Doom. "Is there a reason that when I tried to ring you at college no one knew where you were?"

She winced and slouched down further in the driver's seat of her truck. "Yes, Mom."

"Well, what is it?"

"It's totally not my fault," Jo protested. "They got sick of the fact my roomies kept requesting room changes, and kicked me out of the dorms."

"Did they now?"

"It's only temporary, I'll find somewhere to stay before my classes start back up."

"Uh huh. So where are you now?"

She glanced out the window at the door of the roadhouse. "I'm close. Real close as a matter of fact."