The Hitwoman and the Missing Date

A Comical Crime Caper

Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman

Book 49

JB Lynn

Copyright  © Jennifer Baum The Hitwoman and the Missing Date

All rights reserved. Except as permitted by US copyright act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in any database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The Hitwoman and the Missing Date is intended for 18+ older and for mature audiences only.

© 2025 Jennifer Baum

Cover designer: AM Design Studios

Proofreader: Proof Before You Publish

Formatting: Leiha Mann

Contents

A note

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Author’s Note

The Hitwoman and the Missing Mobster

Oh Shoot!

Psychic Consignment Mystery Series

Cursed Chicks Club

Also by JB Lynn

About JB Lynn

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Prologue

You just know it’s going to be a bad day when the guy you’ve hit on is trying to bash your head in.

My name is Maggie Lee. While I’m not exactly a champion in the arena of courtship, this particular dating development wasn’t my fault. PMS was totally to blame.

“Duck! Duck! Duck!” the little white mouse urged from my purse.

“Duck, duck, goose!” the drunken lizard in my bra slurred.

Neither one of them was much help as I scrambled to get away from my attacker.

I ducked, as the mouse had suggested. A hammy fist swung over my head.

“I’ve got him,” Griswald panted breathlessly, jumping on the back of my attacker.

I shot my aunt’s husband an incredulous look, just before he was sent flying through the air like a newbie rodeo rider being catapulted off a bucking bronco.

The massive man we were battling let out a roar like I’d imagine a T-Rex would have sounded like.

Godzilla, all of a couple of inches long, roared back from my bra. “You don’t scare me!”

The man, of course, only heard high-pitched squeaking.

The mouse, however, announced, “I’m scared. I’m scared. I’m scared.”

“Don’t be,” God assured him with inebriated bravado. “Maggie can take him.”

“No, she can’t,” I gasped, scrambling away as the man tried to kick my head in. “Everyone has too much faith in my nonexistent abilities.”

“What are you mumbling about?” Syd Haleck growled.

Syd Haleck. That was the man trying to pummel me as I kept trying to avoid his blows. Syd Haleck, who, according to Griswald, would be “the easiest job ever” was a petty criminal with a penchant for purses.

I should have known better than to think anything in my life would go smoothly. I’m not that kind of gal, the blessed kind, the lucky kind, the kind where anything ever goes right.

It hadn’t been my idea to hit on Syd. The responsibility of that particular bad choice belonged to the now inebriated lizard.

“Flirt with him,” God had urged. “Use your feminine wiles to distract him.” Then he’d added snarkily, “Despite the fact that your feminine wiles leave a lot to be desired.”

His insult had overridden my good sense, and I’d set out to prove to him that I could be just as seductive as the next woman…and I’d provide the distraction Griswald had requested so that he could retrieve a stolen designer handbag.

And now, here we were, the lizard was drunk, Griswald was getting tossed around like a child’s toy and I had to figure out how to keep us all alive.

1

“PMS! PMS! PMS!”

Armani Vasquez had managed to convince my young nieces to cheer for PMS like some sort of rabid sports fans during a championship game. They were currently shouting it as they swung on their swing set.

For good measure, DeeDee, the Doberman pinscher sprawled out on the ground watching them, randomly interjected barks of “Yes!”.

“I hope Armani didn’t teach Dominic this,” I muttered. I could just imagine how the boy’s mob boss grandfather might react.

Piss, my one-eyed cat who was sitting beside me on the steps of the front porch, purred softly, “You worry too much, sugar.”

“It’s the world’s worst business name. Why didn’t she just call it Psychic Matchmaking Service? Then people would understand what she’s offering. Calling it PMS conjures up images of bad moods and bloating.”

“You should be happy for and supportive of your friend,” God lectured. He was perched on my shoulder, sunning himself.

Instead of responding to the lizard, I snapped, “Don’t even think about it, Billy!”

The goat turned his baleful gaze on me. There wasn’t a hint of guilt or shame in his eyes even though I’d caught him just about to nibble on the skein of yarn my Aunt Susan had left on the porch.

“Maggie’s got PMS, the real PMS,” the cat warned him. “Today’s not a day to mess with her.”

“Baaaaad.” The goat ducked his head, acknowledging the wisdom of our feline friend, and wandered away to find something else he probably shouldn’t eat.

“He shouldn’t mess with me any day,” I told Piss crossly.

“Last month, when you had PMS, you threatened to sell him to the Indian restaurant to be slaughtered,” she reminded me matter-of-factly.

“In my defense, he had scarfed down my debit card.”

“I’m not defending him,” the cat purred soothingly. “All I did was remind him that his life was in danger if he didn’t comply.”

“Much like the peril you face if you don’t help monitor Herschel’s love life,” God interjected.

I groaned at the reminder. My Aunt Susan was on the warpath about her father going on dates arranged by Armani. She was insisting that I follow my grandfather and “keep him out of trouble” since it was my friend who was “putting his heart and life on the line”.

On the one hand, I thought she was being an overreacting control freak. But the flipside of the coin was that my grandfather did have a soft spot for evil, murderous women. I just resented that I was being held responsible for his poor choices. It didn’t seem fair.

“Lower the volume, girls,” my sister, Marlene, bellowed at my nieces. “People are trying to nap.”

The cousins obediently began to whisper chant, “PMS! PMS! PMS!” as Marlene took a seat on the rocking chair behind me.

“Who’s napping?” I asked jealously. As someone who is perpetually exhausted, I covet the sleep time of others.

“Herschel,” she revealed with a chuckle. “He’s resting up for his big date.”

“I’m with Aunt Susan on this one,” I admitted. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“I think it’s a great idea. Everyone needs love in their life. Why shouldn’t he find someone who makes him happy?”

I rolled my eyes knowing she wasn’t thinking about our grandfather, but was subtly defending her own relationship with Bruno, Delveccio’s bodyguard. Considering I’d been involved with his last bodyguard, Gino, I wasn’t in a position to point out that dating a professional criminal isn’t the best idea.

“You should let Armani set you up,” Marlene suggested.

“No!” I spat out automatically.

“I know you miss him,” my sister said softly, “but don’t you think Gino would want you to be happy? You can’t mourn him forever.”

I shrugged. I missed Gino, but I didn’t mourn him. While almost everyone believes that Gino died, I know he has a whole new life in another part of the country. From the little contact we’ve had since he left, it sounds like he’s happy in his new life working for Ms. Whitehat’s shadowy organization. I was glad for him, but I had no desire to dive into the dating pool. My life is complicated enough as it is.

“Unless you’re pining for someone else,” Marlene guessed slyly.

“I’m not,” I assured her.

“You and Nat Hunting?” she suggested.

“Just friends.”

“You seem close,” she pushed.

“He’s a good friend,” I replied evenly. I didn’t tell her that he was an excellent partner-in-crime.

“He’s hot,” she murmured appreciatively.

“He is,” I admitted. “But we’re just friends. Nothing more.”

“That’s a shame,” she declared. Then she confided, “Bruno wants us to go away together for a romantic weekend.”

I kept my tone deliberately neutral. “Oh yeah?”

“You’ll take care of the girls, won’t you?”

I glanced at my nieces who appeared to be having a contest to see who could swing the highest. “Of course. Just give me a little notice.”

“So you can rearrange your non-existent social life or get the time off from the job you don’t have?”

I winced, caught off-guard by the low blow.

“That’s rude!” God declared. “Considering she’s asking for a favor, that was uncalled for.”

His immediate defense warmed my heart, and I smiled.

“There you are!” Aunt Loretta declared, tottering out onto the porch in her stilettos. “I need your help. I’ve been working on a special concoction.”

I glanced over my shoulder at her and saw that she was carrying two small amber bottles topped with droppers.

“Oh no!” God cried. “It’s a science experiment. My sensitive skin!” He dove from my shoulder into my bra. “Save yourself!”

I’d once ended up in the hospital due to one of Loretta’s concoctions, so I took the lizard’s advice. Scrambling to my feet, I backed away from the porch, putting distance between myself and the mystery liquids.

Marlene, who doesn’t have a healthy fear of our aunt’s experiments, asked curiously, “What’s up?”

“I’ve been formulating a new aftershave for Daddy,” Loretta explained.

I eyed her suspiciously. She was just as unhappy as her sister Susan that their father was dating. “Why?”

She glanced around furtively before revealing on a whisper, “It’s to keep his libido in check so that he doesn’t get carried away and do something stupid like think he’s in love.”

Considering that Loretta had been married a ridiculous number of times, I didn’t think she had the right to judge anyone else’s love life.

She held out the two bottles toward me. “Tell me which you think smells better.”

I shook my head, not wanting any part of this.

“I’ll do it.” Marlene stood up, took the bottles, removed the droppers and sniffed. “This one,” she declared, handing one bottle back to our aunt. “It’s leathery, masculine. The other one smells like freshly mown grass.”

“Excellent,” Loretta beamed. “That’s the one I chose too. I’ll go give it to him now.”

“Are you sure it won’t physically harm or kill him?” I asked worriedly.

“It’s been tested,” Loretta assured me.

“How?”

“I tried them both out on Templeton,” she revealed with a satisfied grin.

“You experimented on Templeton?” My voice squeaked with outrage. I was very fond of her better half. “Is he aware you did that?”

“What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him,” she said with a laugh. “You worry too much, Maggie.”

“You could have killed him,” I told her hotly.

She waved a dismissive hand. “I only eliminated his sex drive for a couple of days. He’s fine.”

Marlene chuckled.

I glared at my sister. “You’re not helping. She’s a menace.”

“Who’s a menace?” Aunt Leslie asked stepping out onto the porch.

“Your twin,” I told her without hesitation.

Leslie gave Loretta a stern look. “Now what have you done?”

“Nothing,” Loretta declared defensively. “I’m just trying to look out for Daddy.”

“That’s Maggie’s job,” her sister told her firmly.

“No, it’s not,” I said hotly.

“Susan says it is,” Leslie replied calmly. “Unless you want to tell her the responsibility should fall to someone else, he’s your problem.”

“I have better things to do than monitor my grandfather’s dating,” I argued.

“Like what?” Marlene mocked. “You’ve got no love life of your own, you don’t have a job, and⁠—”

“Actually, she has a job,” a male voice interrupted.

We turned and found Lawrence Griswald, Susan’s husband, watching us. Arms crossed over his chest; his expression was unreadable. I wondered how long he’d been standing there and how much he’d overheard.

“Let’s go.” He jerked his chin, indicating I should follow him and stalked away.

I shrugged at the female members of my family and hurried after him.

“Be careful, sugar,” Piss meowed.

“What exactly are you getting yourself into now?” God asked from my bra.

I had no idea.

2

“It’s the easiest job ever,” Griswald assured me as I slid into the passenger seat of his car.

“Famous last words,” the lizard muttered scrambling up to my shoulder as I pulled my seatbelt on and Griswald punched an address into the GPS.

He had reason to be disbelieving. None of the jobs I’d helped with Griswald with had ended up being “easy”. A couple of times they’d almost gotten me killed.

Still, I was glad he had a new case. The retired US Marshal needed something to keep himself occupied. When he wasn’t working as a Private Investigator, he tended to hang around the house listlessly. Just last week I’d overheard Aunt Susan practically begging his nephew, Detective Brian Griswald, to find something his uncle could sink his teeth into. I wondered if Brian had come through.

“What do you know about designer handbags?” Griswald asked as he maneuvered down the driveway.

“Nothing, besides they’re overpriced pieces of cowhide.” I waved as we passed Alejandro, the llama standing guard near the street.

Griswald chuckled at my description.

“Loretta would know more,” I offered. “One of her past suitors showered her with them instead of jewels. I’m pretty sure that a good chunk of the money she used to open The Corset came from the sale of purses.”

“I don’t need expertise,” he explained. “Just wanted to make sure you understood they can be valuable…in the thousands.”

I shrugged, unimpressed. “Value is in the eye of the beholder. I’d rather have a chunk of cheese that cost that much.”

Griswald’s guffaw echoed off the windshield, filling the car with reverberating laughter. I couldn’t help but grin myself.

Once he’d controlled his amusement, he explained, “There’s a handbag thief on the loose and I’ve been asked to look into it.”

“To catch a purse snatcher?” It sounded like a job for beat cops, not a career law enforcement professional. Had Brian been so desperate to get Susan off his back that he’d just pushed the first case that had come across his desk at his uncle?

“He…or she... doesn’t snatch them,” Griswald corrected. “There’s no violence. They are simply pilfered.”

“Pilfered?”

“Mostly from boutiques, charity events and high-end salons. Anywhere a rich woman might want to be seen carrying an overpriced cowhide status symbol.”

“And you’re sure it’s one person? Maybe it’s just disgruntled, underpaid staff giving themselves well-earned tips or bonuses” I suggested

“It’s one thief, or a ring of thieves. They leave behind a replacement bag,” Griswald revealed. “Specifically, a cloth sack with a cherry pattern.”

“And that’s significant why?”

He shrugged. “Nobody’s figured it out yet.”

We rode in silence for a few minutes. The houses were getting larger and the vehicles pricier the longer we traveled. Finally, I asked, “Where are we going?”

“To meet with the client.”

“What client?”

“Gabrielle Andreas.”

“Who’s she?” Considering how expensive the homes of the neighborhood we were rolling through, I figured she had to be well-to-do.

“A woman who lost a bag.”

I frowned. “And she’s hiring you to find it? She probably owns a half dozen more that are just as valuable.”

“Exactly what I said, but she’s insistent of recovering this particular bag.” He glanced over at me and flashed a rueful smile. “And to be honest I was desperate to get out of the house and do something semi-useful.”

I nodded my understanding and jokingly suggested, “You could offer to tail Herschel on his dates.”

“Susan already made that request and I turned her down.”

“Brave of you,” I murmured. Aunt Susan was a force to be reckoned with. As her niece, it took courage to go against her wishes. I couldn’t imagine how much more difficult it was as her spouse.

“He’s a grown man,” Griswald said, shaking his head. “Nobody should be following him anywhere.”

It took a tremendous amount of self-restraint to not ask if he’d told his wife that.

“But I understand and agree with you doing it,” he revealed, surprising me.

I blinked. “You do?”

He shrugged. “Somebody’s got to keep Susan calm.”

I fought the urge to grumble, “It’s not fair, she’s your wife”. Instead, I stared out the windows. The homes on the street we were traveling were more lavish than Delveccio’s place. I looked down at the worn jeans and dusty sneakers I was wearing. I’d dressed to help my nieces with a donkey ride. “I’m not actually giving off a professional vibe.”

He glanced over at me. “You’re fine to sit in the car.”

Totally confused I parroted, “You want me to wait in the car?”

“Yup.”

“Then why bring me along?”

“Because Mrs. Andreas has requested we meet in my car. I don’t want to be alone with a woman I’ve never met sitting beside me.”

“That’s very odd,” God muttered.

I wasn’t sure if the lizard meant the choice of meeting spots or Griswald’s concern, but I agreed it was weird. To clarify, I asked, “So I’m a chaperone?”

“Of sorts.”

“Even for you this is a strange start to a case,” God whispered as we approached a woman in leggings, a sports bra and a running hat performing some kind of dynamic stretches at the end of a driveway. She looked like she was practicing moves to join The Rockettes but as we slowed beside her, she made eye contact with Griswald and sprinted down the road.

He rolled after her. “That’s our client, Mrs. Andreas.”

“The one who’s running away from us?” I asked incredulously.

After passing a few houses, she slowed to a stop, and we pulled alongside her. She yanked the rear door open, dove into the backseat, and slammed the door shut. “Drive!” she gasped dramatically, lying on her side.

Griswald continued calmly on, while I twisted in my seat to watch the wild-eyed woman in the back. She hadn’t sat up and was still sprawled out across the length of the seat. If she hadn’t looked slightly insane, the curly-haired blonde in her early twenties would have been a knockout. I was starting to understand why he’d been cautious about being alone with her.

“I’m Lawrence Griswald, this is my associate, Maggie,” he said like this was a normal business meeting.

She focused on me. “Gabby.”

I nodded an acknowledgment.

“We understand you lost a handbag,” Griswald prompted.

“I didn’t lose it, it was stolen,” she replied bitterly.

“Of course.”

“I need it back,” she declared.

“I take it your husband is unaware that you’ve hired me?” Griswald asked. “I assume that these extreme precautions you’ve insisted on are to avoid cameras?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “Detective Griswald assured me I could count on your discretion in the handling of this matter.”

I glanced at Griswald wondering what important details he’d neglected to share with me. This was obviously more than just a stolen purse case.

He gave the slightest shake of his head, indicating it wasn’t the time to ask questions. “Of course you can, Mrs. Andreas.”

“Gabby,” she replied with more than a hint of desperation.

I balled my hands into fists, annoyed that he’d tricked me into what he’d said would be an “easy job”. I looked back at the woman sprawled across the back seat and realized her gaze wasn’t wild, like I’d first imagined. She was terrified.

“You need to get it back for me,” she pleaded, her eyes brimming with tears. “It’s a matter of life or death.”

3

“You can’t steal her from me!”

I sat in the kitchen watching my Aunt Susan battle with her husband over my time. They both ignored me like I didn’t have any say in the matter.

Griswald eyed his wife calmly. “I’m not stealing her, sweetheart. I need her help.”

“Don’t sweetheart me. I need her,” Susan snapped back. “The family needs her and that is more important than whatever piddly little case you want her to work on.”

Griswald drew back like she’d slapped him.

I felt a surge of sympathy for the man. Nobody wants to be made to feel like the work they do is unimportant. “She needs our help,” I interjected quietly.

They turned and stared at me like they’d forgotten I was even sitting there.

“The woman he’s helping is afraid,” I told my aunt. “She needs help.”

“That’s what the cops are for.”

I exchanged a quick glance with Griswald. I still didn’t have all the details of this particular case, but I was pretty sure his nephew had asked him to handle it because it fell outside the purview of the police.

“I need you, Margaret,” Susan said firmly. “Your grandfather needs you to protect him. The whole family is depending on you. You’re not going to let us down, are you?”

“Nothing like guilting the girl into helping with your scheme,” Griswald muttered bitterly.

“I can do both,” I told them. “I can watch Herschel’s back on his date tonight. It’s a Monday, how much trouble could he possibly get in? Then I’ll help Griswald with his new client tomorrow.” I took care not to mention the name of Gabrielle Andreas. I might not know exactly what was going on, but I knew discretion was important.

“But---but---” Susan spluttered.

Lifting my chin, I gave her a hard look. “You don’t get to decide for me. It’s what I’m doing.”

“This family never appreciates what I do for them,” she wailed. “All I’m trying to do is keep everyone safe and I get accused of being a control freak.” Swathed in righteous indignation, she marched out of the kitchen.

Griswald stared at the doorway his wife had disappeared through for a long moment before turning his attention to me. “Thank you.”

I shrugged and looked away. “I’m not doing it for you. Gabby was genuinely terrified, and I want to help her.”

A door slammed in the distance and we both winced, knowing it was Susan’s way of getting the last word in.

“I should probably try to smooth things over with my wife,” Griswald said, shaking his head like he knew it was an impossible undertaking.

“Good luck,” I murmured, even though I was certain he was doomed.

He hurried out after her and I slumped in my seat, exhausted from the latest family skirmish.

“I am rockin’ the romance, chica,” Armani Vasquez announced as she limped in.

I wondered if my friend had been lurking, waiting for the fight to pass before she made her entrance. Considering that she was the one who’d used her Psychic Matchmaking Service to set my grandfather up on the date Susan was so anxious about, I didn’t think she should be boasting.

“Herschel has dinner plans, Decland and Antoinette are on an all-day date, and I just matched a third couple who are destined for a life of happily ever after. PMS rocks!”

I rubbed my temples, trying to rid myself of the headache I could feel forming. I wanted to run from the room, but I had a job to do. “Where is Herschel taking his date?”

“El Sombrero,” she announced helpfully. “The perfect spot!”

“Because nothing says romance like unlimited tortilla chips and refried beans?” I mocked.

“Monday is Margarita and Mariachi Night,” she explained. “Nothing decreases inhibitions like tequila and live music.”

“She might not be wrong about that,” God offered from my bra.

“What did the little guy say?” Armani asked curiously.

“He agrees with you,” I told her with a tired sigh. “What can you tell me about Herschel’s date?”

Armani grinned triumphantly, seeming to think I was taking an interest in my grandfather’s love life, when all I really wanted to know was what red flags I should look out for. “Sharon’s perfect for him. A widow with a love of board games and wildlife. She’s actually a champion board gamer, competes in nationwide tournaments and everything. A strong competitive streak is good for a relationship, you know.”

“A champion board gamer?” I asked doubtfully. “Does Herschel even like board games?”

“Haven’t you noticed how many games he plays with Katie and Alicia?”

I shrugged. “That’s what great-grandfathers do. I play a ridiculous amount of card games with them, and I don’t even like cards.”

“That’s because you lose so often,” Armani said dismissively, opening the refrigerator and considering its contents.

“And that’s because Katie cheats and she’s taught her cousin to cheat,” I pointed out defensively.

“Then why does Dominic win so often?” she challenged.

“Because they let him,” I revealed. Knowing that the boy, growing up in the home of a grandfather who’s a mob boss, was destined to learn the less savory shortcuts of the world, I’d made both girls promise not to teach him how to cheat. Instead, we’d instituted The Rule of Three, meaning that every third game they had to ensure he “won”. Hopefully, this would teach them that they could use their nefarious skills for the good of others and not just their own personal gain.

“Delveccio hasn’t been by much,” Armani remarked as she emerged from the fridge.

“Guess he’s busy,” I replied carefully. I too had noticed the lack of the mobster’s involvement in his grandson’s life and the fact that even when he was present, he seemed distracted. I’d even asked him once if everything was okay. Instead of answering, he’d walked away. I’d considered asking Marlene if her boyfriend, the bodyguard Bruno, had mentioned anything about his boss, but had decided not to involve her. When Delveccio needed my help, he’d ask…I hoped.

“Are you on spy duty tonight?” Armani asked.

I looked over and saw she was about to dip a dill pickle in a container of vanilla yogurt. My stomach clenched in protest. I averted my gaze so as not to witness the food desecration. “Susan wants me to keep an eye on Herschel, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“He’s not going to like it,” she warned.

“Hopefully he’ll be so besotted with game-winning Sharon, he won’t even notice me,” I murmured.

“You need a disguise,” Armani declared.

“No disguises,” I declared firmly.

“You can request a sombrero when you walk in,” she suggested.

Having taken my nieces there, both of whom had insisted on indulging in that perk, I knew she was right.

I just didn’t think an oversized straw hat could save me.

4

The sombrero itched. Little bits of straw poked my scalp, and it took all my self-restraint not to keep scratching like a dog with fleas. Seated a couple of tables away, I kept peering over the menu at my grandfather’s back. I couldn’t tell whether he was enjoying his date. More than once, he’d had his margarita glass refilled, which seemed out of character for him. While I couldn’t hear their conversation, I occasionally made out his date’s laughter over the low roar of the crowded restaurant. For her part, the woman about his age, decked out in head-to-toe animal prints, appeared harmless. She at least seemed to be having a good time, and I felt guilty for spying on them.

Not that I was able to do it for long, because the strumming of guitar strings had everyone in the restaurant turning to look at the spot directly behind me. Realizing my grandfather would do the same, I twisted my torso as much as possible, trying to look like I was enthralled with the musicians. It wasn’t long before my side started to ache from the contortion.

“Is he looking this way?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“How should I know?” God, firmly ensconced between my breasts, asked.

“Look!” It was part order and part desperate plea. There was no way I could maintain my human pretzel position for much longer. It was cutting off my air supply.

“Fine. I have to do everything,” the lizard griped, scrambling up my bra strap to my shoulder.

The band strummed and sang. I fought to breathe.

“He’s looking this way,” God warned.

I groaned, knowing my only choices were to succumb to oxygen deprivation or have Aunt Susan kill me. Logically, passing out seemed like the preferable option, but an instinctive sense of self-preservation had me unfurling from my contortionist pose. I reminded myself to try to look surprised when I ended up making eye contact with my grandfather.

“Sorry I’m late, Lee,” a familiar voice murmured as I untwisted myself.

I never met Herschel’s gaze because my face was cupped in two large hands as warm lips were pressed against mine. I told myself I felt lightheaded because I’d been deprived of oxygen, not because of the sensations evoked by the man’s touch.

He pulled back slightly so he could stare into my eyes. “Armani said you needed a disguise.” With a wink, Nat Hunting flicked my sombrero with a finger and settled into the seat opposite me.

Over his shoulder, I noticed that Herschel had turned in his seat and was watching us.

Nat reached across the table, grabbed the hat off my head, and put it on his own. “Eyes on me, Lee,” he coached. “And smile.”

As I focused on his face, he offered me a reassuring wink. “There you go.”

I found myself grinning back. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “Armani thought you might want some company on this stakeout. I’m never one to turn down the opportunity to enjoy a burrito with a beautiful woman, so I agreed to play the part of your date this evening.”

My mouth went dry. I wasn’t sure if it was because he’d called me beautiful or because he’d labeled this a date.

He grabbed a handful of tortilla chips out of the basket between us. “Might sell the bit better if you didn’t look so horrified, Lee.” He started crunching on the chips.

I looked down at the table, trying to get control of my reaction.

“Did you order yet?” he asked mildly.

I shook my head.

“Do you like fajitas? We could get the Fajitas for Two. It’ll help sell this act better if we’re sharing food.”

I nodded.

“Chicken or steak?”

I shrugged. “Don’t care.”

“Steak then,” he decided. He reached across the table and grabbed my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine. “You’re mad?”

I shook my head, staring down at the physical contact.

“She should have told you I was coming,” he said easily. “But she was just trying to help.”

“Ready to order?” A waiter appeared by the table, sliding a glass of water in front of Nat.

“Steak fajitas for two,” Nat ordered. “And I’ll have a margarita on the rocks.”

“Salt?” the waiter asked.

“Of course. What about you, Maggie?”

“I’ll stick with water,” I said softly.

“Be right back,” the waiter pledged before hurrying away.

I snuck a look at my grandfather and saw that he’d turned his attention back to his date. I let out a sigh of relief and then looked up at Nat. he looked concerned. “You caught me off guard.”

He shrugged, but didn’t look apologetic.

“Armani shouldn’t have sent you.”

“Shouldn’t have asked me to do this or shouldn’t have sent anyone?” he asked, then sipped his water.

“Anyone. I had it under control.”

He leaned forward and whispered, “What is it you’re controlling?”

“Observing Herschel on his date with Sharon, the board game champ.”

“Is board game champ code for something kinky or nefarious?” he asked curiously.

I shook my head. “Not as far as I know.”

“And you’re here because….?”

“Susan insisted.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“If it wasn’t me here, it would be someone else. She’s worried about his safety. At least I’m sitting back and leaving him alone.”

“So you’re doing him a favor?” He sounded doubtful.

“I’m attempting to keep the family peace.”

He chuckled. “I’ve met your family, Lee. You’re not what I would call a peaceful group.”

The waiter returned and placed a drink in front of Nat. “Your food will be out in a couple of minutes.”

“Thanks,” Nat said. “Can we get some sour cream too?”

“Of course,” the waiter said before leaving the table.

“Now that’s suspicious,” I told Nat, having watched my grandfather’s table while he talked to the waiter.

“What is?”

“She got chicken tenders.”

He glanced over his shoulder.

“Don’t look!” I warned.

Turning back, he picked up his margarita and sipped it appreciatively. “Why are chicken tenders suspicious?”

“What kins of grown-ass adult orders chicken tenders? That’s a kids menu item.”

Amusement flickered in his gaze. “Maybe she doesn’t like Mexican food. Maybe she has gastrointestinal issues.”

“Then why meet here?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe she didn’t want to seem like a difficult first date. Maybe Herschel suggested it and she agreed in order to get along. There are people that do that kind of thing you know…make an effort to get along.”

“You call it getting along, I call it trickery,” I muttered.

Shaking his head, he murmured in amazement, “Trickery.”

“Sure, it starts with something as innocuous as chicken tenders, but who knows how deep and devious her scam may be.”

He chuckled.

“Don’t laugh,” I pouted.

He dipped a chip into salsa before saying slowly, “It’s admirable how much you care for your family, but except for the ones who are legally underage, they’re all adults. It’s not your job to bail them out of every mess they land themselves in.”

“He makes a good point,” the lizard on my shoulder opined.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I scowled at the man across from me.

“It doesn’t look like we’re on a date if you’re so obviously mad,” Nat remarked. He pushed the basket of chips closer to me. “Eat something. Maybe she won’t seem so devious if you’re not hangry.”

“It wasn’t my idea to be here watching over him,” I reminded him snippily, pushing the basket back at him like it was a battering ram. “And it certainly wasn’t my idea for you to be here lecturing me about things you can’t understand.”

He nodded slowly. “You’re right, I don’t understand. I’m sorry you felt like I was lecturing you.” He leaned back in his seat and raised his arms, signaling his surrender. “Armani asked me to come help you out. I was just trying to be a friend.”

I almost blurted out, “Friends don’t kiss friends” but thankfully had enough self-restraint to press my lips together.

“Incoming!” God warned.

Looking past Nat, I saw that Herschel was just behind him. Noting my surprise, Nat twisted in his seat to see what I was looking at.

I held my breath, braced for my grandfather to tell me off for spying on him.

I almost fell out of my chair when Herschel whispered, “Help!”

5

“Nobody wants to hear about the ins-and-outs of taxidermy over the dinner table.”

Herschel was giving Armani an earful over the breakfast table the next morning. My friend looked miserable because the date had been a disaster. Still, she muttered defiantly, “I haven’t had any complaints from Declan and Antoinette. Their date day must have been a success.”

Aunt Susan, sitting beside her father, appeared overjoyed that his romantic rendezvous had gone so badly. Templeton, who was at the stove whipping up eggs to order, was doing his best to mask his amusement. I stood by the coffeemaker, nursing my drink, trying to stay out of the fray.

“I don’t understand why you’d match us,” Herschel continued to complain.

“She said she loves wildlife,” Armani said defensively.

“She loves hunting animals and stuffing them,” Herschel revealed with revulsion.

Considering that he’s trying to get an animal sanctuary off the ground, I thought his reaction was understandable.

He kept raging, “She told me she’s got a cougar mounted over her headboard.”

Templeton slapped a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from laughing.

“Why were you discussing her headboard?” Aunt Susan gasped with dismay. “Why did you start with bedroom talk on a first date?”

Ignoring his daughter’s Puritan judgment, he looked over at me. “Thank goodness I’d spotted that Maggie was there.”

I smiled weakly at him over the top of my coffee mug.

“Though I’m sorry I messed up your date with Hunting,” he added remorsefully.

“It’s fine,” I assured him.

“You were on a date with Nat?” Susan asked. “How wonderful!”

Gripping my mug, I slurped my coffee so that I wouldn’t publicly remind her that she’d ordered me to spy on her father and that Armani had sent the annoying Nat Hunting as some sort of dating disguise.

Thankfully, Griswald strode in. Locking eyes with me, he asked, “Ready?”

“All set.” I took one last large gulp of coffee,

“Ah,” Susan said with satisfaction. “Now I understand why you’re dressed in grown-up clothes today.”

Ignoring her dig, I put my mug in the sink and hurried after her husband as he walked outside.

“Morning, toots!” a voice croaked.

I waved at Mike, the crow, sitting on a nearby fence, but didn’t risk answering him. Griswald already thought I was weird. If I started talking to random birds he might be tempted to toss me in the loony bin with my mom.

“Going where you are?” DeeDee, the Doberman pinscher asked, running over to walk alongside me.

“She already told us she’s helping Griswald with a case today. And Benny is going with her,” Piss meowed as we strode past her. “Have fun, Benny!”

“Thanks! Thanks! Thanks!” squeaked the little white mouse in the handbag hanging from the crook of my elbow.

“Me take too,” DeeDee begged hopefully.

“Leave her alone,” Piss admonished. “She’s going with Griswald. That means she can’t bring us. Don’t you worry about a thing, sugar. We’ll keep an eye on the girls.”

I nodded my thanks at her as I climbed into the passenger seat of Griswald’s car, carefully balancing the bag with Benny on my lap.

“I take it your grandfather’s date was not a success,” he surmised as he plugged an address into the GPS.

“Apparently she’s a hunter who likes to stuff her kills herself,” I revealed. “Not exactly a perfect match.”

Griswald chuckled as he began to drive. “I’ve arranged for us to meet three other victims of the purse pilferer.”

“Is there anything in the replacement bags the thief leaves behind?” I asked.

“Everything. Phone, wallet, keys, make-up. Our thief dumps the contents of one bag into the other. Doesn’t touch the cash or credit cards. Just takes the bag itself, not its contents.”

“That can’t be easy,” I murmured thoughtfully. “It would be a lot simpler to take the whole kit-and-kaboodle, wouldn’t it?”

“Kit-and-kaboodle?” the lizard in my bra mocked. “What century were you born in?”

“It’s definitely a lot less efficient,” Griswald agreed. “Really drives home the point that it’s the purse they’re after.”

“And to not keep the wallets…” I frowned. “I imagine someone could do some real damage with those stolen credit cards in a very short period of time, if they knew what they were doing.”

He nodded.

“Any idea why Gabby Andreas is so desperate to get her bag back?”

He shrugged.

I slid a sidelong glance in his direction. The retired US Marshal was not a good liar. Even the hitch of his shoulders revealed he was hiding the truth. I clenched my jaw. I didn’t like being dragged into something when I didn’t understand what was going on. I’d kept my mouth shut the day before to see if he’d come clean, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen. It was time to push the issue. I did my best to sound relaxed as I began. “She meets with you in secret even though she could probably replace the purse for the same amount that your bill will be. It’s almost seems like there’s more going on here than meets the eye.”

My challenge hung in the air between us.

I thought he wasn’t going to respond but then Griswald sighed heavily. “I told ‘em it wouldn’t work.”

“Told who? Brian?”

He shook his head, keeping his gaze on the road ahead. “There really is someone stealing designer purses on the loose,” he began carefully.

“But that’s not why you were recruited,” I guessed.

“We need to get the Andreas bag back,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“Because there’s something in it. Something valuable.”

“Something that wasn’t dumped into a cherry-covered cloth bag?” I guessed.

“It’s in the lining of the purse,” Griswald admitted. “The pawn shops are being searched. The online resale sites are being scrubbed. We can’t find it.”

“Who’s we?”

“I can’t say.”

“Can’t or won’t?” I challenged.

“It’s better you don’t know,” he responded solemnly.

“And yet you’ve dragged me into this,” I reminded him.

“You have a knack,” he conceded.

“A knack?”

“A knack for seeing things a little differently,” he admitted. “And we need all the help we can get.”

I stared out the windshield, watching as we passed buildings and vehicles. “Are we really meeting with women who had their bags taken?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I’m hoping you’ll find a connection between them that the police missed. A string we can follow back to the thief so that we can recover the Andreas bag.”

I sat silently as we once again drove to the ritzier section of town. Teams of lawn care workers and gardeners were out in force, laboring under the sun to reinforce the illusion of perfection that the homeowners valued so much.

“Are you up to this?” Griswald asked as we approached our destination.

“You could have just asked for my help,” I told him. “You didn’t have to try to trick me into it.”

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you more, but please believe this is important work we’re doing on this case.”

I glanced over at him. His jaw was tense, and he had a death grip on the steering wheel. He truly believed that whatever this was about was genuinely meaningful.

“Please, Maggie,” he pleaded. “It’s important.”

“Fine,” I said with a heavy sigh. “I’ll do it, but I don’t like it.”

6

I was starting to think that Griswald had been right when he’s said this pilferer thing would be the easiest job ever. After talking to three victims who all provided the same name as a suspect, it felt like we had a handle on who the purse perp could be.

Still, it felt too easy, so I said, “The cops had to have questioned his Syd Haleck guy, right?”

Griswald stopped drumming on the steering wheel of his car long enough to reply. “Not necessarily.”

“But all three of those women mentioned him,” I argued.

“One. The reports were taken by different patrol officers. Since they got their wallets and other personal items back, a detective probably glanced at the reports but never talked to them. Two. Even if a detective had questioned them, it’s doubtful they would have asked, what they would have done with their bags once the season was over. Where’d you come up with that?”

I shrugged. “They’d all proudly pointed out their bags were the “it” accessory of the season. You’d mentioned pawn shops and reselling online. I put the two together.”

Griswald grinned. “See? You have a knack.”

“I agree that it was a clever connection,” God remarked from my bra.

I rolled my eyes, but internally a surge of pride flooded through me.

“Now we just have to recover the goods,” Griswald declared.

“We do?”

“That’s the job.”

“Can’t we just tell Brian where to find the stuff?” I suggested hopefully.

“First we have to find it,” the retired lawman pointed out. “Then we’ll figure out what next steps to take.”

I should have known then that “next steps” would get me in trouble and asked him to take me home, but instead I got distracted when he asked, “So…you and Hunting?”

“There is no me and Hunting,” I declared quickly and defensively. “Armani just sent him to keep me company while I watched over my grandfather’s date with the deranged animal slayer.”

“He’s not a bad guy,” Griswald said, ignoring my response. “Not everyone’s definition of a good guy, but not a bad guy either.”

“Like you!” God whispered from my bra.

“I suppose you could do worse,” Griswald mused.

I fought the urge to blurt out that Marlene was romantically entangled with the mobster’s bodyguard just to make him stop talking about my non-date with Nat.

“We’re here,” Griswald announced pulling into the parking lot of the high-end consignment shop run by Syd Haleck. “You’ve seen the pictures of the stolen items. Go in and take a quick look around. I’ll be right behind you.”

Nodding, I gripped my purse tightly and got out of his car.

As I climbed the stairs toward the entrance, Benny complained from the bag, “Boring. Boring. Boring.”

“Most investigative work is just waiting and watching,” God lectured from my bra. “You asked to come along.”

“Hush,” I muttered before pulling the door open and stepping inside.

The store smelled of cedar, leather, expensive perfume and more money than I’d ever earn in a lifetime. There were artful displays of furniture that looked like it belonged in a high-end hotel or museums, walls lined with art, place settings the Queen of England would approve of, and crystal chandeliers that glittered like a thousand suns.

I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to turn around and run. I self-consciously smoothed my hair, feeling like an outclassed imposter. I didn’t belong in this kind of place, rubbing shoulders with people who would even walk in the door. My face burned with shame and my breathing was shallow. I had to get out.

God, sensing my desire to flee asked, “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, unable to put my feelings of inadequacy into words.

I felt him scrambling up my bra. “Breathe, Maggie.”

I tried, but it resulted in what sounded like a hiccup.

“Champagne?”

Whirling around, I found a glass of bubbly being offered at eye level. I looked from the sparkling liquid upward. And then up some more. The man presenting the drink had the height of a professional basketball player but the build of a wrestler. I’m pretty sure my mouth fell open.

Apparently, it was a reaction he was accustomed to because he smiled and urged, “Join me in a toast.”

I shook my head, unable to speak.

He pressed the glass into my hand.

Instinctively my fingers curled around the stem.

“Welcome to Treasures,” he intoned dramatically. “I’m guessing it’s your first time?”

I nodded dumbly.

“It’s a bit overwhelming. Let me give you a tour.” He placed a hand on my elbow and expertly steered me deeper into the store. “I’m Syd, the owner. And you are?”

“Maggie,” I choked out.

“Welcome, Maggie. What brings you here?”

“Don’t stay stolen handbags,” God, who was perched on my ear, hidden by my hair, coached.

“I just wanted to take a look around,” I replied weakly.

“Well as you’ll see, we have something for everyone,” Syd said smoothly.

“Syd?” a woman called from the depths of the store.

“Coming!” he shouted back. Releasing my elbow, he assured me, “I’ll be back to check on you, Maggie”. Then he strode off.

I stood, rooted to the spot, afraid to move in case I accidentally broke something I couldn’t afford to replace.

“What is wrong with you?” God asked impatiently, climbing from my ear to my shoulder to get a better view of the lay of the land. “You’ll never find the stolen bags just standing here.”

“I don’t know where to look,” I admitted shakily.

“I’d imagine figuring out where they have the accessories would be a good start,” the lizard replied dryly.

“You can do it! You can do it! You can do it!” Benny squeaked from my purse.

Hearing a soft chime, I turned in the direction of the entrance door and saw Griswald step inside. Shoulders back, chest puffed out, he strode in with a sense of purpose. His gaze locked on mine for a brief moment. I shrugged slightly, indicating I hadn’t made any progress with my search. He immediately marched toward the back of the shop.

“Excuse me?”

The woman’s voice was soft, but already on edge, I was startled so much, that I jumped. And God went tumbling, falling from my shoulder straight into the champagne flute I held by my side.

“Help!” he screamed as he fell.

“Uh oh. Uh oh. Uh oh,” Benny worried aloud from inside my purse.

Whirling toward the woman, I stuck both of my hands behind me like I thought that would prevent the woman from hearing all the panicked squeaking.

“Do you know where the restroom is?” an older woman with two visible hearing aids asked.

“I don’t,” I told her, relieved that maybe she actually couldn’t make out the squeaks. “Sorry.”

“I’m drowning! Drowning!” God spluttered pitifully.

“You’re no help,” the older woman told me before shuffling off.

“Death by champagne!” God declared dramatically. “I guess there are worse ways to die.” His words were slurred like he was running out of air.

“Save him! Save him! Save him!” Benny urged.

Putting the purse down on a nearby table, I stuck my finger into the glass. “Grab on,” I instructed.

The lizard clung to me weakly as I lifted him out of the fizzy liquid. “You saved me! You do love me! I take back all of my critzizims…critterisms…”

“Criticisms! Criticisms! Criticisms!” Benny helpfully supplied.

“Mean stuff I said about you,” the lizard slurred.

“Are you drunk?” I asked incredulously.

“I may have inadvertently gulped some of the libation while drowning,” he admitted woozily.

The mouse in my purse tittered.

Sighing, I pulled the collar of shirt away from my neck and dumped the lizard unceremoniously into my bra. “Just be quiet and sleep it off.”

I looked around for a place to leave my champagne flute where it wouldn’t leave a mark. It wasn’t like I was going to drink from it since the lizard had gone skinny-dipping in it.

“Maggie!” a voice whispered.

Turning in the direction of the sound I spotted Griswald. He pointed at a bookshelf that held more knickknacks and trinkets than books. Atop it was a line of handbags that looked a lot like the ones that had been stolen.

Griswald picked up an antique embroidered footstool and moved toward the bookshelf.

“Has anything caught your fancy?” Syd Haleck asked approaching from the back of the store.

Footstool clutched to his chest, Griswald froze and mouthed, “Stall him”.

“How am I supposed to stall him?” I muttered under my breath as I turned to face the direction the big man was coming from.

7

“Flirt with him,” God urged in a sing-song voice. “Use your feminine wiles to distract him.” Then he added snarkily, “Despite the fact that your feminine wiles leave a lot to be desired.”

Logic should have dictated that flirting would never work as a plan, but my ego, bruised by the insult, overrode it and I launched myself at Syd Haleck like I was some sort of femme fatal.

“What’s caught my eye is you, big boy,” I cooed in my best seductress voice as I strode toward him, hoping to reach him before the bookshelf and Griswald were in his line of sight.

That stopped him in his tracks, not because he was enticed, but because he burst into gales of laughter that required him to rest his hands on his knees in order to remain standing as his guffaws shook his whole oversized body. “Oh, lady,” he wheezed mirthfully.

I stood there, face reddening, fists clenched at my sides and gamely pushed on, “I know you felt it too. An instant attraction.”

Haleck was laughing so hard he had to gasp for breath.

Honestly, even though it wasn’t playing out in the most ideal way, the distraction plan would have worked…if only the classic footstool hadn’t broken under Griswald’s weight. But the second the crack of the wooden leg shot through the building, Haleck was on the move again.

Stepping into his path was like jumping onto the tracks in front of a speeding locomotive. He straight-armed me out of his way, sending me crashing into an old oak coat stand.

“Ow,” I moaned as a shooting pain shot through my shoulder.

“Whoa!” God complained. “The world’s moving.”

“Give me that!” Haleck shouted at Griswald who was holding the bag that had belonged to Gabby Andreas.

“Stop right there,” Griswald ordered in his most authoritative voice. “I think the police are going to have some questions about you being in possession of stolen goods.”

Unimpressed, Haleck charged right at him.

“Look out!” I warned like he wouldn’t have noticed he was about to be flattened.

“Maggie, catch!” Griswald lobbed the purse over the other man’s head and into my arms.

I let out a startled cry as I caught it.

“Run!” Griswald urged.

Haleck pivoted back toward me, blocking my path to the door. “Give me that!”

I kept a side table between us as he tried to grab me. I considered throwing the bag back to Griswald and playing a violent game of Monkey in the Middle with the man who kept swinging at me.

“Duck! Duck! Duck!” the little white mouse urged from my purse.

“Duck, duck, goose!” the drunken lizard in my bra slurred.

I scrambled to get away from my attacker, ducking as the mouse had suggested. A hammy fist swung over my head.

“I’ve got him,” Griswald panted breathlessly, jumping on the back of my attacker.

I shot my aunt’s husband an incredulous look, just before he was sent flying through the air like a newbie rodeo rider being catapulted off a bucking bronco. He crashed into a China cabinet and the tinkling of broken dinnerware filled the air.

The massive man we were battling let out a roar like I’d imagine a T-Rex would have sounded like.

Godzilla, all of a couple of inches long, roared back from my bra. “You don’t scare me!”

The man, of course, only heard high-pitched squeaking.

The mouse, stone sober and infinitely more sensible, announced, “I’m scared. I’m scared. I’m scared.”

“Don’t be,” God assured him with inebriated bravado. “Maggie can take him.”

“No, she can’t,” I gasped, scrambling away as the man tried to kick my head in. “Everyone has too much faith in my nonexistent abilities.”

“What are you mumbling about?” Syd Haleck growled. “Give me that bag and nobody gets hurt.”

Considering that a groaning Griswald, covered in shards of fine China was struggling to get to his feet, and my shoulder was throbbing from where I’d crashed into the coat rack, I thought that boat had already sailed.

“Hand it over,” the hulking man demanded.

“Give it! Give it! Give it!” Benny begged, sounding like he thought we were all about to die.

“Kick his ass!” God roared in a drunken rage.

“I can’t find the restroom,” the old woman with hearing aids called from the other end of the store.

When Haleck glanced in her direction, I grabbed Griswald’s wrist, hauled him to his feet and pushed him toward the door.

As our attacker caught up with us, I spun around, swinging the purse as my weapon and smacked him as hard as I could across the face. The blow caught him off guard and he tripped, wobbled unsteadily for a long moment to recover and then fell to his knees.

“Run!” I shouted at Griswald.

We stumbled out the door and toward the car.

“Why didn’t you just call Brian and let the cops handle it?” I asked breathlessly as we fell into our seats. “Why did we have to steal the bag? It’s just a stupid purse. An ugly one at that.”

“We didn’t steal it,” he corrected. “We’re returning it to its rightful owner.”

“But—”

“Quiet,” he ordered, whipping out his phone. “I have to make a call.”

I frowned, knowing I couldn’t stop him. I worried that this, this relatively minor crime of stealing from a fellow thief, was the thing that would get me in hot water with the cops. Delveccio would kill me. Maybe literally. He might send another contract killer to eliminate me before the cops could question me about what I knew about his business. The idea made me panic, and I started to hyperventilate.

“Breathe. Breathe. Breathe,” a concerned Benny coached from my purse as I cradled both it and the bag belonging to Gabby Andreas on my lap.

“Patrol cars are on the way,” Griswald announced. “Let’s return this purse.”

I sat, frozen in my seat, as he started the car and drove away from the consignment shop. He didn’t even blink as two cop cars, sirens blaring, sped past us.

God began to snore in my bra.

“Are you okay?” Griswald asked after we’d gone a few miles.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I was too shocked and confused.

“We did a good thing, Maggie.” He patted my knee reassuringly.

“You’re covered with tiny pieces of broken dishware,” I told him.

He glanced in the rearview mirror and began brushing the shards out of his hair. “That got a little messy.”

“Dangerous,” I corrected. “It got dangerous.”

“But it’s over now,” he soothed. “Everything is going to be okay.”

I wanted to believe him, but I knew how my life went. This was just a momentary break. Things would soon go sideways again.

8

“She’s gone and done it again!”

I hadn’t finished climbing out of Griswald’s car, and Aunt Susan was already ranting and raving.

“Oops, she’s done it again,” God sang off-key from my bra.

He was still intoxicated, and I was wondering how long the alcohol would stay in his system.

“What’s wrong, dear?” Griswald asked.

“This is your fault, Margaret!” Susan raged.

“Doubtful since she’s been with me,” Griswald told his wife with exaggerated calmness. “What happened?”

“Armani set up Daddy on another date!”

“The horrors,” her husband replied dryly.

“We have to go now,” Susan said.

“Now?” I asked with surprise. Apparently, Herschel wasn’t letting any moss grow under his feet if he was already on another date.

“Go where?” Griswald asked.

“To spy on him,” Susan said in her most exasperated tone.

“You want to go spy on your father. You don’t think that’s a bit much?” Griswald asked.

“I don’t want to,” Susan said haughtily. “But he can’t be trusted. Come, Margaret.”

“Why me?” I whined tiredly.

“Because it’s your friend who has instigated this disaster,” Susan declared.

“Disaster must be averted at all costs,” God slurred drunkenly from my bra.

“A date isn’t necessarily a disaster,” I pointed out to both. “She could be a perfectly nice woman. Or maybe they’ll just both be bored out of their minds. Anything can happen.”

“Don’t try to weasel out of this, Margaret,” Susan warned in her sternest voice, treating me like a six-year-old.

I was tempted to stick my tongue out at her.

“You might want to go, sugar,” Piss suggested, rubbing against my shin. “Loretta’s been experimenting with her potions and the house stinks.”

I bent and scratched the cat’s head, whispering. “I can’t bring God.”

“Why not?” she purred.

“Drunk as a skunk. Drunk as a skunk. Drunk as a skunk,” Benny supplied helpfully from my purse.

“Skunk a drunk!” the lizard joyfully repeated.

The cat laughed, which to everyone else sounded like she was coughing up a hairball. Once she recovered, she offered, “Give him to me. I’ll put him to bed so he can sleep it off.”

“Thanks,” I murmured. Reaching under my shirt, I plucked the lizard from my bra.

“Margaret!” Susan disapproved. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Giving God to Piss,” I told her matter-of-factly. I held out the lizard to the cat and watched as she carefully took him and trotted away.

“Insanity,” Susan muttered watching the cat’s exit. “I live in an insane world.”

“Speaking of which,” Griswald interjected curiously. “Any word on the escaped mental patient?”

“Not that I know of,” Susan replied impatiently. “He’s out there on the loose, making who knows what kind of trouble.”

One of the patients who resided at the same facility as my mother had escaped. Considering the man had saved my life, I was inclined to hope he could make a life for himself outside the loony bin. I wisely kept that particular thought to myself.

“We have to get to the coffee shop,” Susan reminded me impatiently. “Are you coming or not?”

“Sure,” I muttered. “Let’s go.”

We rode in silence from the house to the coffee shop where Herchel was having his date. Susan was fuming. I could tell from the way she was rhythmically squeezing the steering wheel like she was practicing doing the same to someone’s neck.

While she drove, I pondered why Griswald had been intent on stealing Gabby’s bag back and returning it to her. He’d made me wait to the car when he’d handed it over, exchanging a few words, a couple of doors down from the Andreas home.

When we reached the coffee shop, Susan parked directly beside Herschel’s beat up pick-up truck.

“You know he’ll see us, right?” I asked as we got out of the car.

“That’s the idea,” she replied. “I want to dissuade him from doing anything foolish. It doesn’t take much for a man to do something foolish.”

I wondered if she’d think it foolish that just earlier that day her husband had jumped on the back of an angry man twice his size over a stolen purse.

My cell phone buzzed, and I paused to read the text Armani had sent: SOS.

“Hurry up,” Susan ordered.

“It’s just coffee,” I pointed out. “It’s not like he’s signing his life savings over to a woman he just met.”

“You don’t know that he’s not. We need to get in there.”

“I need to make a call first,” I told her. “You go on.”

Grumbling under her breath, my aunt stalked away.

I hesitated for a moment. I wasn’t sure if my friend had sent the SOS as a universal cry for help or if in her mind it was an acronym for something totally unrelated. Still, if she was in trouble, I couldn’t very well ignore her. I took a deep breath and hit the call button.

It only rang once.

“Chica!” There was no mistaking the fear in my friend’s voice.

My stomach suddenly felt like a giant knot. Something was wrong.

“The cops are coming,” she whispered.

“Cops?” The knot in my gut stretched tighter. “Why? Where?”

“Here,” she explained. “They’re coming here. To talk to me.”

“Why?”

“Herschel’s wasn’t the only date that went badly,” she elaborated shakily. “Declan and Antoinette are missing, and the police want to know what I know.”

“What do you know?” I asked.

“Nothing. They should have been perfect together. I set them up on an all-day date.”

“What’s an all-day date?”

“Breakfast to moonlight,” she explained, sound exasperated.

“For a first date?” I asked with amazement.

“It’s an immersional relationship. They dive right in.”

“I don’t think immersional is a word,” I murmured.

“I’m thinking of copyrighting it.”

I shook my head. I also thought that a day-long first date sounded hellish, but I wasn’t about to mention that. “Why are the cops involved? Don’t people have to be missing a certain amount of time before they open a case or something like that?”

“I think it’s the blood,” Armani offered.

“What blood?” I shrieked worriedly. “Whose blood? How much blood is there?”

A pair of women cradling To Go coffee cups skirted around me, having heard my bloody questions.

“Planning a Murder Mystery party,” I told them with what I hoped passed for a smile. Considering how quickly they skedaddled away, I don’t think they believed me.

“Blood on their cars,” Armani explained, whispering again. “I think the detective is getting impatient. DeeDee is barking her head off. Please come home, Maggie. I need you.”

She ended the call before I could respond.

“Now what?” I muttered to nobody in particular.

“Blood? Blood? Blood?” Benny squeaked softly from my purse.

I’d forgotten the little guy was even in there. “Don’t worry,” I told him. “The blood doesn’t belong to anyone we know.” Like that somehow made it better.

“Yay! Yay! Yay!”

I barreled into the coffee shop. Herschel sat with a woman wearing a Proud Grandmother shirt at a table near the window. Susan was giving the barista the third degree. Deciding my grandfather was more likely to be cooperative, I rushed up to him. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I borrow your truck?”

He didn’t look surprised to see me. “Caroline, this is my granddaughter, Maggie.”

“Nice to meet you,” I told the woman, doing a weird little curtsy-like movement like she was some kind of royalty. I turned my attention to Herschel. “Please? It’s an emergency.”

“I assume you came with my daughter who’s been shooting daggers at me since she walked in,” Herschel said.

“She dragged me,” I said defensively. “Please. Armani needs my help.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” He pulled out his keys and held them out.

I snatched them from his palm, kissed his cheek, and bolted for the door. As I reached it, I heard him call, “Come join us, Susan. It appears I’m going to need a ride home.”

Chuckling, I sprinted to his truck and drove home as fast as I could without committing any sort of driving violations. I sped down the driveway faster than usual, slammed to a stop, jumped out and ran toward the front door, intent on protecting my friend from the cops.

I’d just hit the top step of the porch when Alejandro, the llama, whistled loudly, “Minty.”

9

Templeton, Loretta and Leslie were sitting in the living room. In tandem, all three silently pointed toward the kitchen.

I rushed through the dining room and burst into the kitchen, breathless and off-balance.

The redhead with a badge, sitting at the table with Armani, tilted his head as I barreled in.

“Patrick!” DeeDee barked loudly from where she sat beside him.

Startled by the dog, I recoiled and crashed into the wall.

“She knows who he is,” Piss hissed from where she was curled in the corner.

Detective Patrick Mulligan, or Minty, as the llama refers to him, was my murder mentor and former lover. I knew who he was. I just didn’t know why he was sitting at the kitchen table in what appeared to be an official capacity.

He nodded politely. “Miss Lee.”

“Detective Mulligan,” I wheezed. Because that’s what one wants to do in front of an ex: crash and wheeze. It’s a reminder of all they’re missing out on…or not.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” he informed me. “Ms. Vasquez didn’t want to cooperate until her counsel arrived.”

I gaped at my friend. “Counsel? You know I’m not a lawyer, right? If you need legal help, you should call an attorney. Invoke the 5th Amendment. Don’t incriminate yourself!”

“Look who sounds like she’s been to law school,” Armani quipped.

“I watch TV,” I told her sternly. I turned my attention back to Patrick. “Speaking of which, did you inform her of her Miranda Rights?”

A mixture of amusement and annoyance flickered in his green gaze, but his voice was level as he responded. “As someone who’s actually had some education regarding the law, I’ll point out that she’s not in custody and isn’t being interrogated. I don’t read everyone I question while conducting an investigation, their rights. I’d never get anything done.”

“She didn’t do it,” I told him. “There. Your investigation is complete.” I pointed toward the kitchen door. “There’s the way out.”

Patrick’s eyes widened. “You don’t even know why I’m here or what I need to talk to her about.”

“Actually, she does,” Armani interjected. “I called her when I told you I needed to use the bathroom.”

Sighing, Patrick hung his head, taking a moment to compose himself. “Let’s start over.” He gestured at the seat beside Armani, silently inviting me to sit.

I slid into it and patted my friend’s shoulder, illustrating to both of them that we were a united front. I hoped my message to Patrick was clear: mess with my friend and you’re messing with me.

“As I said,” he began slowly, “the cars of both Declan McCann and Antoinette Deluca were found near the observation point at Highland Park.”

“I suggested checking out the city lights as a late-night activity,” Armani informed me proudly. “It’s very romantic, right?” Putting her good hand over her heart she fluttered her eyelashes.

I shrugged. Watching the lights of New York City is the equivalent of stargazing in Jersey. There’s too much light pollution, not to mention air pollution, to really see many celestial bodies.

Despite Armani’s swooning declaration, Patrick doggedly continued with his explanation. “Just after dawn, some joggers noticed that both cars were covered with a red substance and called 9-1-1.”

“Blood!” Armani declared dramatically.

“It’s being tested,” the detective corrected. Leaning closer, he said in a low voice. “My guess is cherry gelatin…maybe strawberry…definitely not watermelon.” Reclining back, he added, “When the crime scene techs examined the interior of the vehicles, they found a schedule and instructions from PMS…which brought me here.”

“And I called you,” Armani concluded.

“That’s all you’ve got?” I asked the redhead. “No bodies? Not even blood?”

“Just two abandoned cars and two missing people,” he confirmed. “And your friend is the connection between them.” He gave Armani a pointed look.

She shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea where they are. They were supposed to check in this morning to tell me how the date went, but I haven’t heard from either of them.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he scowled at her.

She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You can’t possibly think that she had anything to do with their disappearance,” I said, drawing his attention to me.

His green gaze bored into mine. “It’s suspicious that she called you.”

I blinked, unsure of whether he was saying that to put on a show for Armani or if he really meant it.

“She has an alibi!” Armani declared.

I turned and glared at her. “I don’t need an alibi. I didn’t do anything.”

“Well then, I have an alibi.”

“You don’t need an alibi because you didn’t do anything,” I reminded her, shaking my head.

“How do you know?” she asked petulantly.

I stared at her incredulously. Sensing that Patrick was hanging on every syllable of the exchange, I switched my attention to him. I expected him to appear suspicious, but he seemed to be biting the inside of his cheek, fighting the urge to laugh. “You don’t think either of us had anything to do with their disappearance, do you?”

He shook his head, schooling his features into a solemn expression. “No. It hasn’t been picked up by the press yet, but this is the third couple out on a first date who has gone missing in the last week.”

Shocked, I sat back in my chair. “You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was,” he replied simply.

“Have you found the other two?” Armani asked.

He shook his head. “Until McCann and Deluca were taken, no one realized there was a pattern emerging. The first couple were a pair of retirees. The second couple were both in their fifties.”

“Declan and Antoinette both have only a couple of months to find love before they turn forty,” Armani supplied quietly.

“So our kidnapper or kidnappers are getting bolder, taking progressively younger victims,” Patrick mused aloud.

“Where were the others taken?” I asked.

“The first from a dinner theater parking lot. They found his car with a wilted rose tucked under the windshield wiper.”

“And her car?” Armani asked.

“Her car was in the garage at her home,” Patrick told her.

“Makes sense,” I murmured. “Older and more traditional. He probably insisted on driving.”

Patrick nodded.

“What about the second couple?” Armani asked.

The detective flicked a worried look in her direction and seemed to choose his words with extra care. “Both of their vehicles were located at a movie theater.” He hesitated before adding, “In handicapped spots. They were both…physically challenged.”

Armani didn’t appear to register that he was uncomfortable saying that part. Most of the time she didn’t seem to even realize her own injuries, the result of an unfortunate Zamboni accident, visually set her apart from the able-bodied surrounding her. She certainly didn’t let them slow her down. “So they prey on the weak?”

“It appears that way,” Patrick replied carefully. “Do you know if McCann or Deluca had any…weaknesses?”

“Besides Declan being partially deaf?” Armani asked before he could finish.

“That might do it,” Patrick murmured. “They do seem to be preying on those who aren’t best equipped to fight back.”

“I know how to catch these people,” Armani declared. “I’ll put myself out there as bait.”

10

“Your aunt’s on the warpath,” Templeton warned the moment I sleepily shuffled into the kitchen the next morning.

“Which one?” I asked as I poured kibble into DeeDee’s bowl and the Doberman started gobbling it up as pieces were still falling.

“Susan.” Templeton smiled at Piss who’d followed us in. “Cream, my darling?”

“Please,” the cat meowed back.

“What’s Susan on about today?” I filled two coffee mugs while he poured a saucer of liquid for our feline family member.

“Dating.” Templeton put the treat on the floor and watched as Piss lapped it up with obvious pleasure.

I handed him a steaming mug and then let both animals outside.

“The more she rages about it, the more dates Herschel goes on,” I muttered. “You’d think she’d have learned that lesson with Teresa.”

“How’s that?” Templeton asked.

“Sorry,” I murmured. Sometimes I forgot he hadn’t always been a part of the family.

“She was vehemently opposed to Teresa dating the Dirk the Jerk and didn’t hesitate to voice her problems with him.”

“You shouldn’t call him that,” God said from my bra. His voice was hoarse and weak as he was suffering from a hangover. “Little ears could be lurking.”

I winced, knowing he was right. It wasn’t a good idea to go around bashing Katie’s dead father when the child could overhear.

“Considering we’re blessed with your niece, I’m assuming your sister paid Susan no mind,” Templeton surmised.

“They had some screaming matches about him, but you’re right, Teresa ultimately ignored Susan’s…concerns,” I ended, proud of myself for managing to sound so diplomatic since I’d been inclined to say, “Susan’s attempt to control her.”.

He sipped from his coffee, peeked at me over the rim of the mug and murmured softly, “Imagine what she’ll do when she finds out about Marlene.”

I gave him a sharp look, wondering if he knew about the connection my sister and Delveccio’s man, Bruno.

He shrugged and said softly. “I’ve got eyes and ears. She does too. You should get your sister to tell her before she figures it out on her own.”

I took a swig of the hot brew, letting it scald the back of my throat. “I have about as much influence over my sister as Susan does with her father.”

“What about Armani?”

I blinked, surprised. “I don’t think Marlene would be any more inclined to listen to her.”

“No,” Templeton said. “Do you have any influence over your friend?”

Raising my eyebrows, I cocked my head to the side and gave him an incredulous look. “This is Armani we’re talking about.”

He shrugged. “I figured I’d at least ask.”

I wondered what he knew about her that had him worried. “What’s bothering you?”

Before he could answer, two pairs of feet came stampeding down the hall. I put my coffee down on the counter, turned toward the noise and opened my arms wide.

“Aunt Maggie!” Katie reached me first and threw her entire body at mine, almost knocking me over

Smiling over her head, I winked at my other niece, Alicia. “Good morning. I like your outfit.”

She beamed back and spun around in a circle, showing off the entire cotton candy pink ensemble.

“We’re having breakfast in the classroom this morning,” Katie announced.

“Mr. D. is bringing warm apple turnovers,” Alicia elaborated. “But only kids and their teacher are allowed to eat the in class.”

“Well, aren’t you the lucky ones,” I exclaimed.

“He’s bringing enough for everyone because that’s what fair,” Alicia assured me. “You just can’t eat them in class.”

Outside, DeeDee started barking, “Dominic! Dominic!”

“I think they’re here,” I told the girls.

They went running outside to greet their friend and schoolmate.

“Don’t let anyone steal my coffee,” I told Templeton before heading out after them.

I watched all three children run hand-in-hand into the barn. Their teacher, Lorraine Lassalan, carrying an insulated food container, followed closely behind.

Standing beside his black SUV, Delveccio observed the kids until they were out of sight and then turned to look in my direction.

“Morning,” I called.

“Morning, Maggie!” Irma the donkey in the barn brayed.

“Good morning, Maggie!” Matilda the pig oinked.

“Baaaaa,” Billy the goat screamed and then trotted away.

Delveccio waved me over to join him. As I approached, I studied him carefully. His expression was guarded and his eyes looked sunken. Something was definitely wrong, and I had the urge to ask if there was anything I could help with.

“Made enough for everyone,” he revealed before I could speak. “Apple and cherry.”

He reached into the back of his vehicle and pulled out an even larger insulated food case. While he did that, I glanced at his driver and nodded at him. It wasn’t Bruno, but some other guy who I vaguely recognized but didn’t know his name.

“You must have been up at the crack of dawn,” I marveled as the mob boss handed over the baked goods.

“Can’t sleep,” he muttered.

“Is there--?” I began.

He shook his head and cut me off with, “Tell Susan I said thanks.”

“For what?” I asked, confused. For years he and Susan had been bitter enemies. It was only recently they’d begun to tolerate each other.

“I used her recipe,” he elaborated. “She was right about the butter.”

I nodded, pretending I understood what he was talking about.

“Kids are all doing good,” he remarked.

“They are,” I agreed, wondering how much awkward small talk we’d have to make.

“Is your sister around?”

I glanced over at Marlene’s car parked in front of the house. “She might still be sleeping. I can get her if you want.”

“I want her to break up with Bruno,” the mobster announced.

I tightened my grip on the food I was balancing and held my tongue.

“Because he won’t do it on his own. He’s in love.” The sarcasm dripping from his last sentence was enough to set my teeth on edge.

Deciding silence was still the best option, I waited for him to continue.

He fiddled with his pinky ring, staring down at the glittering diamond for a long moment. “I sympathize with the poor schmuck. I couldn’t resist the pull of Mary.”

I nodded. Both the mob boss and my father were, still to this day, enamored with my mother, despite the fact she’s a certified whack job.

“Gino couldn’t stay away from you,” Delveccio continued. “It’s like the women in your family have sort of siren’s call that scrambles the minds of men.”

Tucked into my bra, the hungover lizard chuckled softly.

“No good can come of it,” the mobster said, shaking his head sadly. “It just leads to heartbreak.” He squinted at me. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” It wasn’t a lie. Sure, there were occasional moments when I missed Gino, mourned the loss of our relationship, but there were also days when I didn’t think of him at all.

“You should move on,” Delveccio urged. “You’ve dealt with enough. You deserve to be happy.”

“Thanks?” It came out sounding like a question. Unable to stop myself, I asked, “How are you?”

He shrugged. Turning to climb into his ride he said over his shoulder. “Enjoy the turnovers and stay out of trouble.”

I was only able to pull off half of that equation.

11

The view of New York City was obscured by smog.

Standing at the overlook in Highland Park, I stared off into the varying shades of gray that blanketed the area. “Well,” I murmured. “This is bleak.”

“It’s romantic at night,” Armani retorted testily. “Twinkling lights and landmarks are the perfect backdrop for ending the evening with a magical kiss.”

“That’s verbatim what your instruction sheet for Declan and Antoinette says.”

She glared at me suspiciously. “How do you know that?”

“Lucky guess,” I told her. In reality, Patrick had sent me a picture of the paper found in each of the cars of the missing lovebirds. Since that was probably against regulations and because I wasn’t trusting Armani’s judgment at the time, I kept that information to myself. I deftly changed the subject. “Detective Mulligan said there were no signs of foul play except for the sticky substance dousing the cars.”

Said cars were gone, hauled off to some sort of police lot. We were standing in the empty spaces where they’d been found.

“That could have been done by kids playing a prank,” Armani complained.

I nodded. Cherry or strawberry sugar water wasn’t much of a clue. Not that I really expected to find clues. I’d only agreed to accompany Armani on this wild goose chase in the hopes of keeping my friend out of trouble. She’d insisted that we retrace her clients’ steps backwards, so we were starting at their last known location.

At least it was the spot everyone believed they’d been, but I had some nagging doubts. In my mind, they could have been taken at any of the stops on their breakfast-to-moonlight all-day date, and the kidnapper or kidnappers could have found the instructions and dumped their cars in this parking lot to misdirect whoever ended up searching for them.

“Do you think this is my fault?” Armani asked. She was bent over at an awkward angle, examining a pool of sticky red goo. In her good hand, she held two rocks, one almost clear, the other black. She waved the rocks over the puddle.

“Of course it wasn’t your fault,” I replied automatically.

She pushed her hair away from her face and gave me a doubtful look. “You’re just saying that.”

“If you’d matched the other two couples who disappeared, I’d say you might bear some responsibility,” I told her. “But you didn’t. Therefore, this seems totally random.”

Nodding, she straightened up.

“What are the rocks for?” I asked curiously.

“They’re crystals.”

I pursed my lips and nodded. I was pretty sure crystals were rocks, but I didn’t want to argue the point.

“They’re to help with the search.” She limped toward my car. “Let’s go to the ice cream shop.”

My stomach turned. I’d had a bad experience with human body parts hidden in vats of soft serve and ever since, I did my best to avoid ice cream shops. “I’m not hungry.”

“You don’t have to eat,” Armani said, exasperation making her tone sharp. “It’s where they had dessert. It’s our next stop.”

“Okay,” I agreed, even though I still felt queasy.

“This isn’t my fault,” she announced as she plopped into her seat.

“Never said it was,” I reminded her.

“Can you keep it down?” God moaned from my bra. “My head is pounding. It’s excruciating listening to the two of you.”

“You should have stayed home,” I muttered under my breath before climbing behind the steering wheel.

“Scoops and Skates,” Armani instructed as I started the car.

I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t imagine a less romantic setting than the ice cream shop set in the middle of a roller-skating rink. “They’re going to be closed at this hour.”

“That doesn’t mean we won’t find a clue,” Armani argued. “Besides, I’m the boss and that’s where I want to go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I mocked. For some reason, even though I’d offered to help, Armani had insisted that she pay me for my time and mileage as we retraced the steps of her absent singletons. When I’d refused her money at first, she’d threatened to use an Uber instead.

We rode to Scoops and Skates in silence. Every time I glanced over at her she was staring moodily out the window like she expected the answers she was searching for to magically appear.

As I’d predicted, the place was closed and locked up. Still, Armani insisted on circling the place on foot, looking for who knows what.

Instead of joining her erratic search pattern, I sat on the hood of my car and waited. Something felt off but I couldn’t put my finger on what was bothering me. “It’s amazing chauffeurs don’t lose their minds,” I mused. “Spending hours sitting around waiting while their employers live their lives must be maddening.”

“Maybe they take naps,” God replied pointedly. “Or practice silent meditation.”

“Don’t get snippy,” I told him. “It’s not my fault you can’t hold your liquor and are hungover.”

“It’s not my fault I fell into a glass of champagne,” he shot back. “You don’t have to keep adding insult to injury.”

“I did suggest you stay home.” I reminded him.

“Like that madhouse would have been any quieter,” he muttered.

“And I offered you an aspirin.”

“Do you want me to die of liver toxicity?” he bellowed. Then he moaned, “Oh, my head.”

The skin at the back of my neck prickled. “Uh oh.”

“What now?” the lizard groaned.

“I have the feeling someone’s watching us,” I told him. “Can you hop up and take a look around?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m dying,” he said pitifully. “I’d rather spend my last moments in the embrace of your warm bosom than on your cold shoulder.”

“Why’d you come along if you’re not going to help?” I made a show of tilting my head from one side to the other like I had a stiff neck before slowly twisting to look over one shoulder than the other. I didn’t spot anything or anyone out of place, but I had the distinct sensation I was under surveillance.

Suddenly, I jumped up, panicked. I couldn’t see Armani. What if she was being watched too? I sprinted toward the building.

“Death by boob bounce,” God moaned.

“Armani?” I shouted. “Armani, where are you?”

“Why are you trying to smother me?” the lizard complained. “Wasn’t my slow, painful death enough suffering for you?”

“Shut up,” I ordered. “Someone’s here.” I ran faster, racing past the rear of the building, dodging dumpsters and swarms of bees. “Armani!”

“Chill, chica,” she said as I rounded the corner and barely avoided plowing into her.

As I pivoted away from a near-certain collision with her, I stumbled. Limbs flailing wildly, I slammed into the chain-link fence that lined that side of the parking lot.

“Sensitive skin,” God reminded me sharply.

Shakily righting myself, I focused on my friend and asked breathlessly. “Are you okay?”

“Besides some maniac running past and almost flattening me? I’m fine.”

“Did you see anyone?” I panted.

“Besides you?”

“Besides me.”

“No. Like you said, the place is closed. Did you see someone?”

I shook my head. “I just have the feeling that someone’s watching.”

“There’s no danger,” my friend assured me. “If there was, the spirits would warn me.”

It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to prevent myself from rolling my eyes or saying something sarcastic. The only reason I succeeded is that I squeezed my eyes shut, pressed my lips together, and counted to ten.

When I opened my eyes, he was standing there.

Right behind my friend.

And he did not look happy.

12

Things you probably don’t want to do in front of an ex: crash, wheeze, and yelp in terror.

I did all three. Startled, I fell back on the fence, let out a sound like the cry of a helpless puppy afraid of being kicked, and finished with a whistling wheeze as I fought to breathe.

Alarmed by my reaction, Armani screamed and threw her rocks…excuse me, crystals, at the face of the man standing behind her.

They bounced off him and fell to the ground with a clatter.

“What are you doing?” Detective Patrick Mulligan asked as two spots, one on his forehead the other on a cheek, began to bloom where the projectiles had struck him.

“Save me from mammary murder, Minty,” God begged pitifully.

“We’re investigating…well, I’m investigating, Maggie’s just being paid to drive me around…the disappearance of my PMS clients,” Armani told him. “What are you doing here?”

“Conducting an official police investigation,” the redhead responded in his most authoritative tone. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Glaring at him, Armani tossed her hair, and I knew she was looking for a fight.

“We’re sorry about your face,” I interjected, hoping to alleviate some of the tension.

“It’s fine,” Patrick replied flatly.

I was pretty sure he was going to end up with a couple of bruises, but if that was his definition of fine, I was willing to accept it. “Let me just grab Armani’s rocks and⁠—”

“Crystals,” she corrected angrily. “They’re crystals.”

“Crystals,” I agreed soothingly. “I’ll retrieve the crystals, and we’ll get out of your way.”

“Not so fast,” Patrick ordered as I bent to pick up the black stone.

I froze in place.

“We’re not playing freeze tag,” he muttered. “Stand up.”

Grabbing the rock, I stood slowly.

His attention was on Armani. He looked angry and I wasn’t sure why.

“Why you’d tell him?” the detective asked, clearly miffed. “I specifically asked you to not broadcast the information for the sake of the safety of the missing and you went and told him.”

“Told who?” Armani asked sullenly.

“Your boyfriend.”

“Jack?” I asked. “Jack Stern?”

Patrick shot me a warning look. “Does she have another?”

“Yes,” Armani told him, with a defiant tilt of her chin.

The redhead glanced at me for confirmation. I nodded.

“Is he a reporter too?” Patrick asked.

“Jack Stern’s got the abduction story,” I realized aloud.

“I didn’t tell him,” Armani blurted out.

We looked at her, surprised.

“I swear. You explained how the longer it was kept off the news, the better the chance of getting them back was. I didn’t tell him.”

“Somebody did. He’s got the whole thing.”

“Maybe it’s him you need to be talking to and not us,” I suggested gently.

Patrick rubbed the spot on his forehead where the crystal had caught him. “Can you convince him to squash the story?” he asked Armani.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re kind of broken up right now.”

He looked at me. “What about you? You two have a special connection.”

“No, we don’t.” My denial was quick and false.

“He saved your life,” Patrick reminded me.

“But he won’t listen to me about this,” I argued.

“You won’t know unless you try,” Patrick pushed. “Lives are hanging in the balance.”

“Your murder mentor wants you to try to save a life,” God muttered. “What is this world coming to?”

“Try, Maggie,” Armani begged.

“I can try talking to him,” I said uncertainly. “But there’s no guarantee he’ll even take my call, let alone do what I’m asking of him.”

“Do it now,” Patrick urged.

“My phone’s in my car,” I told him.

“Go,” Patrick ordered. “I need to talk to Armani anyway.”

I looked to my friend, unsure.

“Good luck, chica,” she said, using her good hand to flash a thumbs up at me.

I started jogging back to get my phone.

“More bouncing,” God groaned.

“He’s not going to listen to me,” I worried aloud. “Why should he? It’s a big scoop, a serial kidnapper. Probably the kind of thing that would win him some kind of crime writing prize or something.”

“Jack’s a good man,” the lizard said as I reached the car. “An honest one. He believes in right and wrong. You just have to appeal to him to do the right thing. He’ll put the needs of others ahead of his own. In some ways, he’s a lot like you. It’s probably why you get along.”

I put the lizard on the dashboard and closed the door of my car, wanting my conversation, more likely pleading, to be private. I liked the crime reporter, but my instinct for self-preservation made me fearful of him too.

“You should date Jack,” God declared.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Great idea. Let me date the guy who can win a Pulitzer by publishing a story that outs his mob enforcer girlfriend.”

“I don’t think you deserve the title mob enforcer,” was the lizard’s only response.

I took a deep breath and dialed Jack’s number.

He answered on the first ring. “Somehow I knew you’d be calling, Maggie Lee.” His gravelly voice was laden with satisfaction that he’d been able to intuit my behavior so effectively.

“So, I guess you know why I’m calling,” I choked out.

“You’re going to ask me to sit on the kidnapping story in a desperate attempt to save your friend’s business by reminding me of my romantic connection to her.”

“No,” I said firmly.

“No?” The surprise in his tone was evident.

“I don’t care what happens to PMS,” I told him honestly. “I care that delaying the release of the story could buy the police the time they need, instead of alerting the perpetrators that they’re on to them.”

“It’s a big story,” Jack hedged.

“And you’re a good man,” I countered, leaning into the narrative that God had spun about him. “I know you’ll do the right thing. You’re not going to put your own gain ahead of anyone’s safety.”

A long silence stretched between us. I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers, wishing and hoping.

“Fine,” he finally sighed. “I’ll hold off a bit. But not indefinitely.”

“Thank you, Jack,” I murmured gratefully.

“Your friend’s going to owe me a statement,” he joked. “Think you can convince her as easily as you did me?”

“I’ll try my best,” I promised.

“How’s she holding up?”

“Off the record?”

“Of course.”

“She’s blaming herself,” I admitted.

“Tell her that if she needs someone to talk to…off the record, she’s got my number.”

“I will.”

“Be careful, Maggie,” he warned. “Somehow you seem to end up in the middle of some dangerous situations.”

“I will,” I promised. “Thanks, Jack.” Looking through the windshield, I saw Patrick and Armani, walking together toward the car. “I’ve got to go.”

“Let me know when I can run with what I’ve got.” He disconnected the call.

I climbed out of the car and announced, “He’ll hold off.”

“Finally,” Armani sighed. “Something went right.”

“That means something is bound to go wrong soon,” God shouted from the dashboard.

13

Deciding not to incur the wrath of Detective Mulligan, Armani decreed we should go home after leaving Scoops and Skates.

“Jack said that if you need someone to talk to, he’s there for you,” I told her as I drove.

“I need to talk to the spirits,” she muttered. “They’ve really let me down.”

Startled by her defeated tone, I glanced at my friend. She was slumped in her seat, staring listlessly out the window. I wanted to say something to make her feel better, but didn’t want to offer empty platitudes or promises.

I cleared my throat and offered awkwardly. “Herschel’s coffee date seemed to go well.”

“You mean the one Susan crashed?”

“Well, before that, I guess.”

“She was, as your grandfather explained it to me, “Dumber than most rocks he’d kicked over”. He was actually glad when Susan showed up and interrupted them.”

“Oh,” I murmured.

“Maybe PMS isn’t for me,” she said sadly.

“Well, you gave it a try,” I told her. “There’s plenty of other things you can do. You’ve got The Corset⁠—”

“Boring,” she complained.

“Or you could lean into decorating again. You kind of let that fall by the wayside.”

“Because it’s a snoozefest. People have no vision.”

I nodded.

“She could become an assassin,” God suggested from my bra.

I didn’t pass the idea along. Instead, we rode in silence for the rest of the ride.

As we rolled down the driveway, Alejandro, the llama, galloped toward the car, spitting and shaking his head.

“That’s odd even for that beast,” God said from his place on the dashboard.

“What the heck…?” I pulled to a stop and rolled down my window. “What’s wrong?”

“Intruders,” the llama gasped. “Intruders!”

“Where?” I asked as panic clawed at my throat.

“Everywhere!” He ran away.

“What’s going on?” Armani asked, alarmed by the behavior of the llama.

“Hang on!” I told her and floored the accelerator.

“Close the window,” God begged. “The draft is terrible.”

I shut it while we sped down the driveway. I slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop as the house came into view.

For a moment, I sat there, totally frozen, trying to make sense of the chaos I saw before me.

Hershel was swinging a pitchfork at an unseen enemy and bellowing, “Get lost, buzzers!”

My nieces were huddled together sobbing hysterically.

Aunt Susan was wielding the garden hose like it was a flame thrower, spraying swaths of water high in the air. With the hose stretched thin, she was drenching the girls.

“Maybe they got a bad batch of brownies,” Armani suggested, sounding just as dumbfounded as I felt.

That didn’t explain why the donkey, Irma, was kicking at the boards of her corral like she was desperate to escape and DeeDee was hiding underneath Templeton’s car, her front paws plastered to her snout.

“Stay here,” I told my friend.

“I’ll wait here too,” God offered.

I dove out of the car and into the fray.

“Die, buzzers!” my grandfather bellowed.

I sprinted toward my nieces, intent on rescuing them. I realized that Katie had Piss clutched to her chest and that Alicia was carrying the young rabbit, Twitch.

“Watch out for the bees, sugar!” Piss warned.

But it came a moment too late, and I ran smack into a swarm of flying insects. Instinctively, I tried to bat them away, but there were too many. They kept coming and they started stinging.

“Ow! Ow!” I cried. “Get inside,” I yelled to the girls.

But my crying nieces didn’t budge.

I’d faced a lot of deadly enemies, and I’d always fought back, but this time I fell back, literally, on an old trick that had worked for me in the past. I stopped. I dropped. And I rolled.

Then I crawled on my belly, like some kind of elite soldier, to reach the girls. For a long moment, we huddled together under the protective spray coming from Aunt Susan’s hose. Then I ushered the kids closer to the house as Susan kept dousing us.

I got them up onto the porch. As Loretta and Leslie grabbed them and pulled them inside, I turned around.

“Aunt Maggie!” Katie wailed, reaching for me.

“I have to help everybody else,” I told her. “I’ll be back.”

She whimpered.

I hurried off the porch to join Susan who was now drenching her father. Herschel, breathing heavily, hurried toward the front door. As soon as he’d stumbled inside, I pulled the nozzle from my aunt’s hands and nudged her shoulder. For once she didn’t argue. I covered her with a curtain of water while she made her way into the house.

I looked at Armani who was sitting in the car. She flashed a smile and thumbs up letting me know she was okay. God waved his tail.

“Easy, Irma,” I called to the donkey. “Take it easy.”

She stopped kicking and turned her head from side-to-side searching for attacking bees but there were none around her.

“You okay, DeeDee?” I yelled.

“Scary,” she whined from underneath the car.

“It’s going to be okay,” I said loudly, trying to reassure everyone in earshot. “It’s all going to be okay. Can someone tell me what happened?”

“Percival ran through a swarm of bees.” Mike, the crow explained while perched in a nearby tree. “They were just passing through, looking for a new home, and he plowed right into them.”

“Because the peacock’s blind.” Matilda oinked the reminder from the depths of the barn.

“But the bees didn’t know that,” Mike continued. “They thought they were under attack, and they came out swinging, or more accurately stinging.” He laughed at his own joke, making a deep, scraping, guttural sound. “Then Alejandro galloped in and got them more agitated.”

“Where are they now?” I asked, holding the handle of the hose with both hands, ready to shoot them out of the sky at a moment’s notice.

They moved on when everything got still,” Mike squawked.

“Where’s Percy?” I asked, worried about the beautiful large bird.

“Rowdy led him away to safety immediately,” Matilda supplied.

I made a mental note to give the raccoon a special treat.

“I’ll go tell them it’s safe to return,” Mike announced and flew off.

I put the hose down, walked over to Templeton’s car and crouched down. “Come on out, honey.”

The Doberman, whining softly, bolted out from underneath and threw herself at me. “Hurts it,” she cried.

“Did you get stung?” I murmured. “Let me see.” It was easy to spot where the bee had attacked. Her snout was swollen.

“Hurts it,” she whined again.

I gently kissed her nose. “I know what’ll make it feel better.”

My heart melted as she stared up at me with big, trusting eyes.

“An ice pop,” I told her.

Her ears perked up.

“We’ll get you one.” I stood slowly and walked over to my car. I opened the door and told Armani. “It’s safe to go inside.”

“You do not look so good, chica,” she said.

Considering the bees had stung my face multiple times and my skin felt like it was being doused with itchy lava, I didn’t think she was exaggerating.

“I’ll be fine,” I told her resolutely. I offered my outstretched palm to God.

He jumped on it and ran up my arm. “You look worse than I feel.”

“I might feel worse too,” I confided softly. I didn’t want to worry anyone, but in addition to the skin discomfort, I was feeling dizzy. I didn’t know if that was a side effect of the stings or just the stress of the day.

Because it had been a day…and there was still time for things to get worse.

14

“Get that thing out of the house!” Susan thundered.

“I’m trying,” I snapped back. “Your yelling is scaring him. Just go away.”

She huffed indignantly as she marched out of the room muttering about “chaos”.

She wasn’t wrong about that part. DeeDee was howling in pain, the girls were still crying hysterically, and Leslie and Loretta were arguing about ice and fussing over their father like they thought he might drop dead.

I distinctly heard Armani yelling, “Pickle juice will make it better!” as I slowly lowered myself down onto the floor.

I laid on my belly and peered into the shadows under the living room couch. “Hey, buddy,” I said in a soft reassuring voice.

Scared eyes stared back at me. Whiskers trembled.

“You’re safe now,” I told him. “The bees are gone. You can come out.”

He leaned a little closer to me

“No!” Susan boomed from the kitchen. “I forbid it!”

He trembled even harder.

“It’s okay, Twitch,” I told the little brown bunny. “Nothing’s going to hurt you, I promise. Come out.”

He didn’t move.

I held out a hand toward him.

“I’ve got this,” God declared. He ran down my arm and jumped off my hand, landing on the rabbit’s ear. Before I could open my mouth to warn him not to traumatize Twitch any further, the lizard said in a gentle, soothing voice, “I know that was scary, but it’s over. Maggie would never let anything happen to you. Go to her now.”

Twitch immediately hopped out from beneath the couch and into my arms.

Cuddling him to my chest, I rolled over onto my back.

“It’s loud here,” Twitch said in a small voice, nuzzling his head beneath my chin. “I want to go back to the barn.”

“You’ve got it. Give me just a second to recover,” I murmured. I took a moment to just lie there, stroking his soft fur. I shut my eyes and focused on taking some deep breaths.

There I was, prone on my back, eyes closed, my face covered with welts when Griswald, followed by Templeton walked in.

“Maggie!” Griswald shouted with alarm.

My eyes snapped open as I struggled to hold onto the squirming rabbit. Griswald’s shocked response had scared him, and the bunny was doing his best to bolt.

“Hold the door open,” I gasped to Templeton. “Go outside,” I directed Twitch as I released him.

It was amazing he heard me over the wailing of my aunts, the crying of my nieces and the howling of the dog, but somehow he did.

“This way,” God commanded, pulling on the bunny’s ear like it was a rudder and steering him past the feet of the two men and through the doorway into the great outdoors.

“What happened?” Griswald gave me a hand as I struggled to get to my feet from the floor.

“Bees. Lots of bees.”

Templeton pushed past us and rushed into the kitchen.

“Sit,” Griswald ordered, pushing me into the nearby chair. He searched my face. “Are you having difficulty breathing?”

I shook my head.

“Should I call you an ambulance?”

“Not for me. Check on the others,” I urged.

He hurried off into the kitchen and I sank back in the chair. A moment later Piss jumped into my lap.

She studied me with her good eye. “How you doing, sugar?”

“I’m fine,” I assured her. “What about everyone else?”

“Templeton’s got it under control,” she revealed. “He put a bag of frozen peas on DeeDee’s snout.”

“That’s why she’s quiet now,” I guessed.

“He gave both girls, who each only received one sting, ice cream sandwiches,” the cat continued.

“How are Susan and Herschel?”

“Griswald got his wife to stop yelling at all of us,” Piss hissed, her annoyance with my aunt obvious. “Herschel’s dealing with a couple of stings but will be fine. Everybody’s going to be okay.”

“There you are,” Armani declared, limping toward me. Using her good arm, she pressed a bag of frozen ravioli to her chest while clutching a glass of water in her hand. “Drink,” she ordered, handing me the glass.

Half of the contents had splashed out during her journey from the kitchen, but I was grateful it was water and not pickle juice, so I drained the rest without protest. “Thanks.”

“Put this on your face,” She held out the bag of pasta. “It’ll help,” she urged when I hesitated to take it.

“It can’t hurt, sugar,” Piss concurred.

I took the bag, and Armani took the empty glass.

“I’ll go distract the girls,” Piss offered, leaping off my lap.

“I promised DeeDee an ice pop,” I told Armani “Could you…?”

“I’m on it.” Then she leaned closer and whispered, “Whatever you do, don’t let Loretta apply one of her salves.”

I nodded, acknowledging it was good advice. The bee stings hadn’t landed in me in the hospital but one of my aunt’s crazy concoctions could.

As she limped back toward the kitchen, I tilted my head back and covered my face with frozen ravioli. Even though I’d been doubtful, it made an immediate impact on my level of discomfort. I let out a sigh of relief.

“Get you anything?” Griswald asked gruffly.

I hadn’t noticed him rejoining me. “I’m fine.” The words came out muffled through the container of frozen food covering my mouth. “Take care of the others.”

“Templeton’s got that all under control,” Griswald admitted. “He’s better at these kind of things than me.”

I didn’t argue with him.

“We should have been here,” he continued guiltily. “At least one of us.”

I wondered why he thought they could have stopped the swarm, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort to ask.

“I shouldn’t have dragged him into this case,” he muttered, his voice heavy with self-recrimination.

I lifted my modified ice pack long enough to ask, “The case that you let me think Brian asked you to look into, even though now I know he really didn’t because you’re working for someone else?” The itching of the stings flared, and I dropped the cooling compress back into place.

“You figured that out, huh?” Griswald’s tone was a mixture of surprise and respect. “Probably because I stole the bag back before the cops could get there,” he surmised.

My “Yup” was muffled.

“I shouldn’t have dragged you into it. I’m sorry.”

I waved my hand, dismissing the apology.

“I can’t tell you what’s really going on,” he murmured apologetically. “Trust me when I say you’re better off not knowing.”

I believed that.

“Can I get you anything?” he offered.

“I’m fine,” I repeated.

“I’ll go check and see if anyone else needs help then,” he murmured.

I sat there, concentrating on the relief the coolness was providing and thinking it was a wonder I hadn’t been stung by the bees surrounding the dumpsters at the ice cream shop.

“Is it gone?” Aunt Susan’s voice came out of nowhere.

Startled, I sat up. The sudden movement sent to ravioli crashing onto my lap. “What?”

“The rabbit. Did you get it out of the house?”

“He’s outside,” I muttered, angry that with all that was going on, that she was fixated on the bunny.

“You should know better,” she lectured. “We can’t let animals overrun our home.”

“Alicia was just trying to protect him from the bees,” I told her.

She blinked.

“Twitch didn’t just hop in here,” I told her. “Alicia carried him. So, unless you want to tell your great-niece that she was wrong to offer shelter to one that’s weaker than her, you might want to drop the subject.”

Instead of admitting to her mistake, she squinted at my face. “You look terrible. You should take an antihistamine.”

I shook my head, tilted my head back, and covered my face with ravioli.

15

I found God in the barn.

At some point after the antihistamine had kicked in and the urge to tear my face off had passed, I realized he’d ridden Twitch outside and never returned. I raided the kitchen for treats for the outdoor animals and with DeeDee and Piss by my side, I ventured off to search for him.

“You okay, toots?” Mike squawked from a fence post almost the moment I stepped outside.

“I’m good.” I tossed the crow a piece of ham.

“You’re the best!” he croaked, grabbing it and flying off.

“Too me?” DeeDee panted hopefully, eyeing the lunch meat I still held.

I threw a bite to Piss and let the Doberman eat hers right out of my hand.

“Do you know where God is?” I asked Billy, the goat.

“Baaaarn,” was his response.

I rewarded him with a carrot. He eyed the other one I still held hungrily.

“Not for you,” I told him firmly.

As I neared the barn, I stopped to offer Irma an apple. “How are you doing?”

The donkey hung her head, refusing to take the fruit, and admitted guiltily. “I panicked and broke a rail. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I assured her. “We all panicked. It can be fixed. Have an apple.”

She took it gingerly, braying softly, “Thanks, Maggie.”

Matilda waddled out and oinked, “I think you should talk to Alejandro. He’s in bad shape.”

“He’s hurt?”

“Not physically,” the pig supplied.

I tossed her a head of cabbage which she happily began munching on.

“God?” I called, peering into the shadowy barn.

“Here!” he shouted.

Following his voice, I spotted the lizard perched on top of the rabbit in a back corner.

“I brought you a carrot,” I told the bunny, holding out the orange treat.

“And as usual, nothing for me,” God complained.

“I’ll catch you something,” Piss offered, bounding away.

Leaving Twitch to his carrot, I scooped up the lizard and left the barn. Before I could go in search of the llama, a white SUV pulled down the driveway. Well, as far down the driveway as it could get. I’d abandoned my car the moment the house was in view in order to fight the bees, and it blocked the path to the house.

Patrick Mulligan climbed out of the SUV. He had a sheaf of papers in his hand. “Miss Lee.”

Knowing the formal greeting was a warning, I responded in kind as I strode over to meet him. “Detective Mulligan.”

“Patrick!” DeeDee barked excitedly, running over to him.

He bent to pet the dog. Straightening he began to ask, “Is Armani Vas—” His question died on his lips. He stared at me in horror. “What happened?”

“He’s talking about your red and swollen face,” God supplied helpfully from where he was perched on my shoulder.

“We had a problem with bees,” I told the redhead who’d visibly paled.

“Do you need--?”

“I’m fine.” I waved the offer away. “Armani’s inside.”

“Was she stung too?”

“No.”

The lizard felt the need to point out in a smug tone, “Only because I insisted the car window be closed.”

I was starting to hope that Piss wouldn’t find a cricket for him.

Patrick looked from the squeaking lizard to my blotchy face and shook his head.

“Detective Mulligan!” Griswald called, having stepped out onto the front porch.

Patrick waved at him. “Looks like there was some excitement here.”

“It’s over now and everyone’s on the mend,” Griswald assured him. “Can we help you with something?”

I heard the nervous note threading through his tone and wondered what kind of trouble he’d gotten himself into with the pilfered purses. “He’s here to see Armani,” I said quickly to prevent him from saying something that might incriminate himself.

“She’s in the kitchen,” Griswald replied, shooting me a grateful look. “Come on through, Detective.”

“I need to talk to him for just a second,” I told the older man. “We’ll be right in.”

Nodding his understanding, Griswald went into the house.

Patrick turned to face me. “That looks like it hurts, Mags.”

The genuine concern in his voice made my breath catch in my throat. I nodded and admitted, “It does.” Then I added with a weak smile. “But I’ve been through worse. There was something I wanted to run by you.”

His green gaze held mine steadily. “Go ahead.”

“Are you sure it was gelatin that the cars of the missing couple were splattered with?”

He blinked surprised by the direction the conversation had headed. “The techs haven’t gotten around to analyzing it. What are you thinking?”

“There were a lot of bees around the dumpsters at Scoops and Skates.”

“Bees seem to be a theme for you today.”

I shrugged. “I got to thinking that was probably because there’s so much sugary stuff that must get dumped at an ice cream shop.”

“Makes sense.”

“So maybe it was strawberry sundae topping and not gelatin on the cars,” I concluded.

He stared at me for a long beat. “Could be,” he admitted. “What do you think that means?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just thought it might be worth at least checking out.”

He nodded. “I’ll have it looked into.”

“I just didn’t want to mention it in front of Armani and have her get obsessed with it or something,” I explained.

“She is a bit of a bulldog with ideas,” Patrick said with a smile. He raised the pile of papers he held. “We haven’t found any connections between our victims so far. This is a list of relatives, neighbors, friends, coworkers, and restaurant staff with whom the three couples had interactions. I’m hoping Armani will be able to illuminate some crossover.”

A terrible keening noise echoed through the woods, startling us both.

Patrick reached for his gun. I whirled around searching for the source of the terrible noise.

“It’s Alejandro,” Mike, the crow squawked from a nearby tree. “He’s having a breakdown.”

“That’s the llama,” I told Patrick. “I’ll take care of him. You deal with Armani.”

The redhead’s gaze widened.

“Go!” I said, shoving him toward the house. Without looking back, I ran into the woods in search of the crying animal.

“This should be interesting,” God remarked.

“If you can’t manage to be kind, just be quiet,” I told him. Then I called, “Alejandro? Alejandro, where are you?”

“I am here, Maggie Lee.” His Peruvian accent was thicker than usual. “I am here.”

Finally, I spotted him. “There you are.”

“I have failed you, Maggie Lee,” he wailed, kneeling on all fours, his head drooping toward the ground.

“You didn’t fail me,” I assured him, stroking his neck. “Everything is okay.”

“I was a coward. I ran away. I should be banished.”

“They were bees,” I told him. “There’s nothing to do except run away. And nobody is being banished.”

“I am ashamed. I am a coward,” the llama lamented. “I failed to fulfill my duty.”

I kept petting him, at a loss as to what I could say that would make him feel better.

“Alejandro,” God said from my shoulder.

“Remember what I said,” I warned the lizard, afraid he’d upset the llama even more.

He ignored me and continued on. “No one is judging you, Alejandro. You did your best. You are a loyal and valued member of this family. Rise with pride and return to your duties and keep everyone safe.”

I held my breath, wondering if the ploy would work.

After a long moment, the llama awkwardly got to his feet, raised his head and declared, “I must resume my patrol.”

“We depend on you,” I murmured, patting his side.

“I will do my best to serve.” He trotted off.

“Thank you,” I told the lizard once the llama was gone. “How did you know what to say to him?”

“He thrives on having a sense of purpose,” God explained. “I just reminded him he had one.”

“That was pretty brilliant,” I admitted.

“You say that like my genius comes as a surprise,” the lizard sniffed indignantly.

16

“You might not want to go out in public.”

“Good morning to you, too,” I told Marlene as I shuffled into the kitchen to get my coffee the next morning.

“I was just saying that you still look pretty bad,” she said defensively. She sat at the table, finishing a cup of yogurt.

“You think I didn’t figure that out when I looked in the mirror?” I was aware that my face was still dotted with red, swollen spots.

“How are you feeling?” Templeton asked. He was standing at the counter, threading bite-sized pieces of fruit onto skewers.

“It’s not too bad,” I told him, sliding past and reaching for the coffeemaker.

“Alicia’s refusing to attend class,” Marlene announced.

I glanced over, surprised. I love both my nieces, but everyone knew that Alicia was the better student. “Why?”

“She’s afraid to go outside. She’s terrified of the bees.”

I frowned, feeling a wave of sympathy for the little girl. “It was scary.”

“And yet no one called me at work to let me know that my child was in danger,” Marlene complained bitterly.

“As Susan explained,” Templeton replied calmly. “We knew you’d already left work and would be home in about thirty minutes. There was no reason for you to get upset while driving.”

I’d missed the scene with Marlene arriving and being informed about the bees because I’d been in the woods comforting the llama. Hearing the raised voices when I got back to the house, I’d pivoted and hung out in the barn until the yelling had ended, and Patrick Mulligan had left.

“I should have been told,” Marlene insisted.

I poured my coffee. “You’re being mad at us isn’t going to help Alicia get over her fear of the yard. Maybe you should be focused on moving forward.”

“Maybe you shut up,” Marlene raged and marched out of the room.

“It’s difficult being a working parent,” Templeton sympathized.

I just sipped my coffee.

“I thought maybe a picnic breakfast would help,” he said, waving a skewer. “I’ve got egg bites and mini-chocolate muffins in the oven and fruit-on-a-stick. Can you join me in trying to coax the girls to eat outside?”

“Of course. What can I do to help?”

“Just act like it’s fun.”

“Good morning! Good morning!” Aunt Loretta tottered in on her stilettos, came to a dead stop and stared at me, her face twisting with revulsion. “Oh my.”

“It’s not that bad,” I told her.

“You should let me do something about that for you,” she suggested, stepping closer.

“No way.” I took a step back. “You are not to touch me.”

“But—”

“Leave her alone, Loretta,” Templeton ordered sternly.

She blinked at him and then cooed, “I do love it when you’re forceful, hot stuff.”

Rolling my eyes, I used her distracted state to my advantage and dashed out the back door. I was surprised to see that Armani was already outside, awkwardly wrestling a brightly-colored vinyl tablecloth over the picnic table.

“Morning, chica.”

“Morning. Let me help you with that.” I put my coffee on a bench and together we got the covering into place.

“The triple kidnapping story hasn’t hit the news cycle yet,” she remarked.

“Jack agreed to sit on it for a while.” I reminded her.

“Why? It’s a major scoop.”

“I assume it’s a combination of him wanting to do the right thing and also an attempt to protect you.”

“Because when it becomes public knowledge, it’s going to be the end PMS,” she said sadly.

I picked up my mug and sipped.

“We didn’t finish working backward through Declan and Antoinette’s date,” she said. “Maybe we should do that today.”

`“I was thinking about going to the sites the other couples were abducted from,” I admitted. “Maybe there’s a connection that the cops just missed.”

She looked doubtful.

“Can I go?” a young voice asked.

Turning, I spotted Rowdy, the adolescent raccoon, wedged between branches of a nearby tree. When I’d asked her what she’d like as her reward for leading the blind peacock away from the bees, she’d immediately requested an outing. “We’ll see,” I told her.

Armani followed my gaze. “See what?”

“The raccoon wants to go for a ride,” I explained.

“Now you’re just making me sound like a dog,” the raccoon complained, covering her eyes with her little paws. “I want to explore the world!”

“Take her and go,” Armani invited. “I’ll finish retracing the date.”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea,” I said slowly. If a kidnapper or kidnappers were lurking along the route, I didn’t want her out there on her own.

“I’ll go with her,” a deep, gravelly voice offered.

We stared at the man in the leather jacket who rounded the corner and had obviously been eavesdropping on our conversation.

“Jack!” Armani gasped, surprised to see her on-and-off-again boyfriend.

“What happened to you?” the reporter asked the moment he saw my face.

“Bees,” I told him.

“It looks painful.”

I shrugged. “You’ll really go with Armani to retrace the date?”

He nodded.

“He will not,” Armani declared hotly.

He frowned at her. “Considering what I’m sitting on, I think I’m entitled to an exclusive, don’t you?”

“He’s right,” I confirmed before she could argue. “And this way we can cover twice as much ground.”

“You don’t look like you’re in any shape to go anywhere,” he pointed out.

“I’m bringing my pets as back-up,” I told him.

“You know that’s not a convincing argument, don’t you?” he said with disbelief.

“I’m not going anywhere with him,” Armani insisted.

He rounded on her angrily. “This is why you and I can never work. You refuse to think logically. You’re all about your feelings and have no common sense.”

I backed away to replay an argument they’d obviously already had before. I crept back into the kitchen only to be faced by a sniffling Alicia. My heart fell when I saw her tears. I knelt down and opened my arms, offering a hug. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

She threw herself into my embrace. “I’m not a baby.”

“I know,” I soothed as Templeton reached over and plucked my coffee mug out of my hand before it spilled.

“Katie said I’m a big baby,” she revealed.

“She shouldn’t have said that,” I stroked her hair.

“I just don’t want to go outside. There could be bees,” she whined.

“I understand.”

`Templeton waved a fruit skewer, reminding me of the breakfast picnic plan.

“But you can’t stay inside forever,” I told my niece.

“Yes, I can,” she argued in a small voice.

I hugged her tightly. “Not you. You’re too smart and curious to be limited like that. There’s a whole world out there for you to learn about.”

I saw Templeton nodding his approval over her shoulder.

“But what about the bees?” she whispered.

“I think you should try learning about them so you understand what happened and what you can do if it ever happens again.”

She considered the idea for a long moment and then pulled away so she could look me in the eye. “Do you think Miss Lassalan would let me do research?”

I swallowed a smile and nodded solemnly. “I think there’s a good chance she might.”

“I’ll tell her,” Templeton mouthed.

I acknowledged him with the slightest nod.

“I like research,” the little girl said.

“Why don’t we start now?” I suggested. “We can search the yard and see if we find any bees.” I offered her my hand.

She hesitated.

“I’ll set up our breakfast picnic while you two explore,” Templeton said. “The chocolate chip muffins are almost cool enough.”

It was the nudge Alicia needed. She slapped her hand into mine and tugged me toward the back door. “Be brave, Aunt Maggie.”

“She always is,” God remarked. “Sometimes it’s the very thing that gets her into trouble.

17

“Please? Pretty please?”

The begging whine grated on my nerves. I was regretting the choices I’d made. I seem to spend a lot of my life in that state.

“I told you this was a terrible idea,” God muttered from my bra. “We’re trying to conduct serious business here and all she wants to do is play.”

“It’s not playing,” Rowdy pouted. “It’s exploration.”

“It’s dumpster diving,” the lizard countered. “You can’t possibly endorse this kind of behavior, Maggie.”

“You promised!” the racoon screeched with all of her teenage angst. “You never let me do anything!”

“Promised you,” DeeDee panted, siding with her masked friend like she thought it was up for a vote.

She was probably hoping Rowdy would find a snack in the movie theater dumpster and toss it out to her.

“Go ahead,” I told the raccoon.

She clapped her paws and then skittered up the side of the dumpster. “Wheeee!” she shouted as she cannonballed into the center of the trash.

“You can’t just let her do whatever she wants,” God lectured. “She needs boundaries.”

“And I need her help,” I told him. “Rowdy?”

“Yeah?” the raccoon’s response was muffled since it was obvious that she was munching away on something.

“I’m thinking that whatever sticky red food was dumped on the cars of Armani’s matched couple was significant. Can you tell me if you find anything like that?”

“I’m on it!” she declared enthusiastically.

“That’s a stretch,” God said. “And this place stinks of stale popcorn.”

“It is and it does,” I admitted, “but it’s not like we have any other theories to investigate.”

“Maybe you should let the police do their job,” the lizard suggested.

“Do you really think Armani will leave this alone?” I asked. “She’s upset her clients are missing. She feels responsible.”

“Hotdog, DeeDee!” Rowdy yelled as she launched a projectile out of the depths of the dumpster.

The Doberman greedily gobbled up the half-eaten piece of meat. “You thank!”

“No problem,” the raccoon told her.

“Instead of feeding the canine, look for a sweet, sticky substance,” God urged.

“This thing is filled with sticky stuff and stale popcorn,” she replied. “It’s like heaven in a box. A really big box.”

I couldn’t help but smile hearing the glee in the raccoon’s voice.

“The little glutton isn’t going to find anything useful,” God predicted.

“I heard that,” she snarled.

“Fight don’t!” DeeDee barked.

“Guys,” I sighed tiredly.

“Find anything?” a familiar voice asked from behind me.

“Flying frankfurter! “ Rowdy yelled as another tube of a questionable meat product arced through the air.

The dog impressively caught it midair.

“What are you doing here?” I asked the man as I turned around.

He shrugged. “This might not be the best place to be on your own.”

“I’m not alone.” I gestured at the Doberman and jerked a thumb at the dumpster. “I figured it was worth taking a look around.”

Griswald frowned. “You do know the police are conducting an official investigation, right? You could be accused of interference.”

“I know they haven’t found any of the missing couples,” I told my aunt’s husband. “Sounds like they could use some help.”

“And have you found anything helpful?”

I shook my head. “How’d you know I was here?”

“Armani told me. She asked me to find you.”

Something in his tone put me on edge. I squinted at him, trying to read his face. His expression was guarded, and he almost appeared nervous. “What’s going on?”

“You need to stay calm and not do anything rash,” he warned in a quiet, even tone.

It was the equivalent of telling someone not to get upset right before delivering distressing news. Every muscle tensed, ready for battle. “What happened?” I choked out.

“The police found a connection between the victims,” he began slowly.

I held my breath.

“It’s Armani,” he revealed.

I shook my head, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “Who cares? They knew that she’d set up the last couple for their date.”

“But they didn’t know that the second woman who’d gone missing had gotten a pedicure while sitting beside Armani last week, or that the first woman had shopped at The Corset,” Griswald explained.

“How do they know that?” I asked. “I mean I get how a credit card payment to The Corset would be an easy connection, but how do they know about the pedicure?”

“I don’t know, but Detective Mulligan and Brian seemed pretty certain.” He hesitated for a moment and then added, “Certain enough to take Armani down to the station to be officially questioned.”

“They’re both working on it?” I asked with surprise.

“The second couple that went missing is Brian’s case. He’s the one who figured out the pedicure connection.”

“Rowdy,” God said quietly. “Get out of there. We’re going to have to go.”

I stared at Griswald for a long moment while the raccoon clambered up from the depths of the dumpster. Finally, I blurted out, “This is Armani we’re talking about. How on earth could anyone think she’d be physically capable of kidnapping someone, let alone two people at a time?”

“I don’t think the police have determined if it’s one assailant or more,” Griswald replied carefully.

I swiped a hand through my hair. “You don’t believe this insane theory, do you? You know Armani. They both know Armani. She has terrible taste in food and makes questionable choices but she’s not…she’s not…”

“Of course not,” he soothed.

“Ask him why Armani sent him here,” God suggested.

“Why are you even here?” I asked Griswald. “Shouldn’t you have gone to the station with her?”

“Stern did that,” he replied easily.

That made me feel a little better. Jack was definitely on Armani’s side, and he understood the ins and outs of the law. I had no doubt he’d do everything he could to prevent her from incriminating herself. Then again, it was Armani, a woman not known for her filter. I fervently hoped she wouldn’t say anything stupid.

“And Armani asked me to tell you to retrace the steps of Declan and Antoinette,” Griswald shared.

“That is the least cold case,” God agreed.

“I guess that makes sense,” I muttered.

“I can’t do it,” Griswald said carefully. “If my nephew found out I was double-checking his work, he’d never forgive me. I probably shouldn’t even be here, telling you this, but I thought you deserved to know.”

I nodded, realizing he was in a tough spot. “I appreciate it.”

“Do you even know how to retrace the date?”

“I think so. She has a printout of their itinerary I’ll work from that.”

He nodded. “I’m going to go build an alibi myself by spending a couple of hours searching for the perfect gift for my wife. If Brian checks my whereabouts, he’ll see I went into almost every store in town.”

“Why do you need an alibi?”

He shrugged. “Plausible deniability to keep family peace. Brian will take it personally if I interfere.”

I nodded my understanding. “It’s good to know that it’s not just my family that can be neurotic.”

He chuckled.

“I’ll head back and get the itinerary,” I told him. “This meeting never happened, right?”

“Right.”

“Let’s go,” I told the dog and raccoon and began heading for my car.

“You need to be careful, Maggie,” Griswald called after me. “Very careful.”

18

“Don’t you dare puke,” I warned.

Rowdy was rolling around on the backseat of my car, complaining she’d eaten too much and didn’t feel well.

DeeDee, who’d called shotgun, sat in the front passenger seat, watching the raccoon.

“How do you feel?” I asked the dog.

“Good!” she barked happily.

“She has an iron stomach,” God declared from his spot on the dashboard. “The trash panda, on the other hand, has gastrointestinal sensitivities.”

“Leave her alone,” I told him. “Nobody likes to be bothered when they’re sick.”

“Nobody likes the stench of stale popcorn drenched in a chemical version of butter either,” he groused, “and yet here we are. Enduring without complaint.”

“Just complained you,” DeeDee pointed out.

Chuckling, I reached over and ruffled her ears as her reward for calling the lizard out.

The lizard turned his back on us.

“I’m sorry I didn’t find anything that was helpful,” Rowdy apologized weakly from the rear of the vehicle as I turned into the driveway.

“It was a long shot,” I told her. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I let you down,” she murmured unhappily.

“Speaking of disappointments…” God muttered.

I slowed to a stop when I spotted what he’d seen. Alejandro, the llama, stood off to the side, his head drooping listlessly. Instead of trotting over to give a report, he averted his gaze.

“I guess I should talk to him,” I sighed. Putting the car in park, I climbed out and then opened the rear door in case Rowdy decided she was going to be sick. “Hey, Alejandro,” I called softly as I began to walk toward him.

His dark gaze flicked over to me and then away again.

“Have there been any visitors?”

“Minty and the nephew,” he replied flatly. “They took Armani and the boyfriend followed.”

I nodded. “Anybody else?”

“The Hunter is here.”

“Nat?” I asked for clarification.

“Yes. He does repairs.”

“On the paddock that Irma kicked?” I guessed.

“Yes.”

I reached out slowly and stroked his neck. “Are you still upset about the bees?”

“I am ashamed of my own cowardice.” His head dipped lower.

“Snap out of it!” I told him, flicking his ear with my finger.

Surprised by the attack, he drew back. For a moment I thought he might spit in my face.

“We all have moments we’re not proud of. You can either wallow in your mistakes or learn from them. You can’t do your job if you’re wallowing. We depend on you, Alejandro. Are you up to the job of guarding our family?”

He raised his head, met my gaze steadily, and declared, “I am.”

“Excellent!” I impulsively kissed his cheek.

“I shall patrol and restore my honor!” He trotted away.

When I got back in the car I realized that both the Doberman and raccoon had left.

“While you were busy counseling the drama llama, Rowdy stumbled off into the woods and DeeDee went to look for something to eat,” God informed me from the dashboard.

“Nat’s here,” I told him as I started the car and headed for the house. “Do you think I should ask him for help with the Armani thing?”

“As opposed to chasing down a crazed kidnapper, perhaps multiple kidnappers, by yourself? Of course you should ask him!”

“Now who’s being dramatic?” I mocked as I pulled to a stop in front of the house.

I swiped the lizard off the dash and climbed out of the car.

“Tell him!” Aunt Susan raged. “Tell him, Margaret!”

Startled, I looked around for her. It took me a second to realize she was standing by the barn, hands on hips, looking like a cartoon character with steam coming out of their ears.

“Tell who, what?” I asked carefully, slowly moving toward her like a matador facing down a bull that was about to charge.

“Tell Daddy he can’t go on another date,” she insisted.

I peered past her, into the barn. My grandfather stood behind her, arms crossed over his chest, a piece of straw jutting out of his mouth. He looked more stubborn than the mule he stood beside.

“Use caution, Maggie,” Irma, the donkey warned. “They’re both itching for a fight.”

Herschel, who, like me, can talk to animals, gave her the side-eye.

I decided to play dumb. “Does anybody know where Armani is?”

“She was hauled off by the cops in cuffs,” Aunt Loretta said from behind me.

I turned to see her tottering on her high heels, lurching toward me.

“And her man got all outraged and protective. It was hot!” She fanned herself for emphasis. “Sexy.”

“Only you could find someone being brought to the police station for questioning to be sexy,” Susan disapproved.

“Wait! What?” I kept up the act of the uninformed fool since it was working.

“Brian and Detective Mulligan asked her to go to the station to ask her some questions,” Susan explained.

“She wasn’t handcuffed,” Herschel supplied. “That’s Loretta’s overactive imagination.”

“Questions about what?” I asked, pretending to be confused.

Susan patiently filled in the gaps. “Apparently, they discovered a link between Armani and all the victims. The detectives wanted her help to get more details.”

“Oh,” I murmured, acting like it was news to me. “So you don’t want Herschel to go on a date because Armani set it up and you’re worried that people who have a connection to her are disappearing?”

“Um…yes,” Susan found herself agreeing.

I looked at my grandfather. “It does seem like a reasonable request…at least until the kidnapper is caught.”

Faced with that logic, Herschel muttered, “Fine. I’ll postpone” and stalked away. “I’m going for a walk. Alone!”

“Well played,” God said from my shoulder. “I’m impressed.”

“Thank you, Margaret,” Susan said with genuine gratitude.

“I only did it because I agree it could be dangerous for him out there at the moment,” I told her. I didn’t want her to get the impression that we were now steadfast allies. “Next time I won’t be so quick to try to stop him.”

She nodded her understanding. “Jack went with Armani to the police station. I’m sure she’ll be okay.”

“He’ll look out for her,” I agreed.

“Ding!” Loretta trilled suddenly. “Ding! Ding!”

I stared at her.

“Oh no!” Susan gasped and hurried past me toward the house.

“She told me to let her know when the oven timer went off,” Loretta explained, pirouetting awkwardly and tottering after her sister.

“Do you know where Piss is?” I asked the donkey.

“She and Matilda are in the house guarding the girls,” Irma brayed.

“Guarding them from what?” God asked.

“Maybe bees?” she suggested.

“Nice job, Lee.” Nat Hunting emerged from the shadows in the barn. “I thought for sure your aunt and grandfather were going to engage in war about his date. You defused the situation well.”

“Thanks.” I pointed at the rail in the paddock that had been repaired. “Your handiwork?”

“Have hammer, will travel,” he quipped. “Herschel asked me to give it a whack to get it back in place.”

He stepped closer, studying my face. “That must have hurt.”

I shrugged, self-consciously cupping my face to cover the red bee sting welts.

“So what are you going to do about Armani?” he asked.

I blinked. “Do?”

He grinned. “I know you, Lee. You’re not going to leave this to the cops. You’re going to figure it out yourself. And I’m going with you.”

19

“At least you didn’t have to ask him,” God said. “You didn’t have to grovel or bargain. He just volunteered.”

“Hush,” I whispered.

I was standing in Armani’s room, studying the itinerary she’d planned for Declan and Antoinette. Nat was standing guard in the hallway, ready to charmingly disarm anyone who might wander by.

“All I’m saying is that he made it a lot easier,” God concluded.

I didn’t disagree, but I was still uncomfortable that Nat had offered to help with my investigation. I folded up the piece of paper and stuck it in my pocket. I didn’t want anyone to witness me potentially tampering with evidence.

“Where to?” Nat asked the moment I stepped out of the room.

“I hope you’re hungry.” Half of the day-long date seemed to revolve around food. I was surprised they’d had any room left for ice cream at the end.

“Why are you sneaking around your own home?” Piss whispered, rubbing against my shin.

I bent, scooped up the cat, and cuddled her against my chest so that I could whisper in her good ear, “I need to get out of here without anyone asking where we’re going.”

“Ugghh,” God, who was tucked into my bra groaned. “You’re smothering me.”

“I can provide a distraction, sugar,” Piss meowed. “Just leave it to me.” She leapt out of my arms and dashed away.

A moment later there was the sound of a crash and tinkling glass.

“That cat!” Susan roared furiously.

“Be careful! Don’t step on the shards,” Loretta warned.

I grabbed Nat’s hand, put a finger to my lips to remind him to be quiet and led the way out of the house.

“That was subtle on the part of the cat,” God said dryly from my bra.

“It was effective,” I muttered.

“What?” Nat asked.

“Can we take your truck?”

“Sure.”

We climbed into his vehicle and made our escape without seeing another human being, but I did see Rowdy wave. She was near the edge of the driveway, rolled on her back, one paw on her swollen belly.

“Where to?” Nat asked.

I pulled out the itinerary, unfolded it and studied it for a moment. “We’ll start where they did, a place called Breakfast Buddies.”

“I know that place. I really like their oatmeal,” Nat shared. “You should try it!”

I glanced over at him. The man was a former thief, a current insurance investigator, and appeared to be on the payroll of Ms. Whitehat’s shadowy organization and at the beck and call of Griswald and yet he seemed excited about oatmeal.

“What do you think Armani will tell the cops?” Nat asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know what she can tell them. She didn’t know about her connection to the other missing couples. She would have told me if she did. She can’t be expected to remember every customer that goes through The Corset and there’s no reason to recall somebody sitting in the pedicure chair beside you.”

“So, you think it’s a coincidence she had contact with them?” There was no missing the doubt in his tone.

“I didn’t say that.”

He shot me a sideways glance. “What do you think happened, Lee?”

“I don’t know.”

“You must have some kind of theory,” he prodded.

I shrugged. “If Armani is the common denominator, I’d assume someone followed her and saw who she came in contact with.”

“And people who interacted with her became the potential victim pool,” he murmured. “But she didn’t do her matchmaking thing with them, did she?”

“No.”

He scowled. “It’s too much of a coincidence that they were abducted while on dates.”

“Agreed.”

“What does that mean?”

I shrugged helplessly. “I’m hoping that by retracing the steps of the couple she did set up, I’ll be able to figure it out.”

“Better than the cops?”

“They’ll use their investigative techniques, and I’ll use mine. Maybe between all of us, we’ll get this thing figured out.”

We rode in companionable silence the rest of the way to the restaurant.

“Here we are.” He parked in the lot.

“Do you mind getting us a table?” I asked once we were out of the truck. “I just want to take a quick look around.”

“By yourself?”

“It’s the middle of the day. What could happen?”

“If you’re not inside within ten minutes, I’m coming to find you,” he warned.

“I’ll be there.” I watched him go inside and then began to walk around the perimeter of the building.

God scrambled onto my shoulder. “What are we looking for?”

“I have no idea,” I admitted.

It didn’t take long to circle the building. Nothing jumped out at me, not the parking lot in the front or the dumpster in the back.

“I’m going in,” I warned the lizard when I got back to the entrance.

He dove into my bra.

“Welcome to Breakfast Buddies,” the cheer hostess chirped the moment I stepped inside. “How many are in your party?”

I scanned the room. About half the tables were filled, but it was still easy to spot Nat, mostly because he was the tallest and most fit guy in the place. “My friend is already here,” I told the hostess, starting toward the table where he sat.

“Aren’t you the lucky one?” she murmured from behind me. “He’s never brought a date before.”

That stopped me in my tracks. I turned back to look at her. “Is this a big dating spot?”

She held up her hands defensively and took a step backward. “I didn’t mean…I shouldn’t have…I didn’t mean to intrude.”

I smiled at her reassuringly. “It’s okay. I was genuinely curious. Do you get a lot of people on dates here?”

Relaxing a little, she shook her head. “Not many. It’s just a game the staff plays, you know, trying to figure out if people are here on first dates or something. We don’t mean any harm.”

“It just helps pass the time,” I excused in my most understanding tone.

She nodded. “There was a couple here a few days ago. They were adorable. They said it was their first date, and they were both totally smitten. You could just tell.” She smiled at the memory. “Makes you think there might be hope for the rest of us.”

A party of five walked in behind her. She flashed a smile at me and turned her attention to them.

I continued toward Nat. As I slid into the seat opposite him, he grinned at me and said, “I already ordered for you.”

My eyebrows shot up. “I’m a grown woman who is more than capable of ordering for herself.” Then I picked up the cup of coffee he’d also ordered for me and sipped from it.

He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “I know, but I also know you don’t always take advice, no matter how good it is. I couldn’t risk you passing up the oatmeal.”

“I think I could survive without it.”

“But why would you want to?” he coaxed. “Trust me on this, Lee.”

“Two oatmeals,” our waitress announced, sliding a steaming crock in front of each of us.

Nat flashed a huge smile at her. “Thanks!”

She grinned back before she sashayed away with an exaggerated swinging of her hips.

I looked through the steam into the dish in front of me. “Are you sure this is it? I don’t see any…you know…oats.” I saw a mixture of pecans, fried apples, some kind of cinnamon-speckled syrup, and dried cranberries on top of a wedge of something white.

“They’re in there,” he assured me.

“Is that cheese?” I asked, worried that he’d ordered me something that Armani might put together.

“It’s cream cheese. It’s delicious. Stir it all up while it’s hot.”

Riddled with doubt, I picked up my spoon and gave it a half-hearted whirl.

Shaking his head, he reached across the table, plucked the spoon from my fingers and gave my meal a vigorous stir. “Geez, Lee, you’re hurting my feelings. You’re acting like I’m trying to kill you when all I’ve ever done is look out for you. Just try it.” He handed the spoon back to me.

Feeling guilty for offending someone who’d time and time again proven himself to be an ally, I shoveled a spoonful into my mouth. “Mmmm,” I murmured with surprise. It was sweet, creamy, crunchy and cinnamon-y all at once. “This is delicious.”

“Told ya so,” he smiled and winked at me. “Trust me, Lee. I’ve always got your back.”

20

“Maybe Armani is onto something,” Nat mused.

We’d finished breakfast and were driving to the next stop on Declan and Antoinette’s itinerary. He’d shown the hostess photographs of the missing couple, and she’d happily confirmed that they had been the smitten first date customers she’d been telling me about.

“How did you happen to have their pictures on your phone?” I asked as he drove.

“I came prepared.”

“That’s a habit you should develop,” God lectured from my bra.

“Griswald got them from Brian and he shared them to me,” Nat explained.

I frowned. “Why didn’t he give them to me?”

“I’m guessing you didn’t ask for them.”

I shot him a look.

“I was being sarcastic,” he said quickly. “I asked Armani for them. Griswald overheard and got me the pics of all three missing couples.”

“When?”

“When I arrived to fix the paddock.”

“But you didn’t know you’d be looking for them.”

He chuckled. “Everyone knew you’d be looking for them and even I had to follow you around all day, I was going to make sure you weren’t doing it by yourself.”

“Was that Griswald or Susan’s suggestion?” I asked bitterly.

“One hundred percent my own concern for your safety,” he replied quietly.

“There’s nothing unsafe about my looking for them on my own.”

“Yet. But trouble seems to find you, Lee.”

“Just accept and appreciate the man’s help,” God sighed with exasperation. “He’s not asking anything of you. He’s just offering support.”

I stared out my window. I knew the lizard was right and I was grateful, but I would have been more comfortable conducting my search on my own.

“What do you think is the most romantic section of a bookstore?” Nat mused aloud as we pulled into the parking lot of our next stop.

“Romance novels?” I ventured. “Or maybe the café?”

He parked the truck. “I’d say cookbooks or the travel section. Travel because it’s all about dreams and the expansion of our views of the world. Cooking because what’s better than enjoying the sustenance of our day-to-day lives?”

I looked at him as he contemplated the bookstore. “I didn’t know you were such a philosopher.”

“There’s a lot about you don’t know, Lee.” He threw his door open and hopped out of the truck. “Armani told them to come here?”

I climbed out and together we walked toward the bookshop. “She scheduled their entire day.”

“This is a good place for them to get to know each other,” he approved.

“What if they don’t include reading as one of their hobbies?”

“Then they’re not worth dating.” His declaration made it clear it was a non-negotiable for him.

“That’s a bit harsh,” I ventured carefully.

He shrugged. “Who wants to be with someone who has no curiosity and underdeveloped empathy? Not me.”

“Let me guess,” I teased as he held the door open so that I could enter the bookstore. “In another life you were a librarian.”

He chuckled. “One never knows.”

We split up to cover the store as efficiently as possible. I talked to the café staff and the people filling the shelves while he talked to the checkout workers and manager.

None of them remembered Declan or Antoinette.

“What were they reading?” the barista with green hair asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“That’s how I remember people…their coffee orders and book choices.” She shrugged and hurried off to help a customer.

Thirty minutes later I met Nat at the entrance doors.

“Anything?” I asked hopefully.

He shook his head.

“On to pottery painting then.”

He nodded his approval. “Cool!”

I glanced over at the man, who, when I’d met him, had a massive tattoo of a snake eating its tail coiled around his neck. “You like painting pottery?”

“I’ve never done it. It’ll be fun to try.”

“If you say so.”

He playfully punched my shoulder. “Lighten up, Lee. Not everything is life-and-death. “

“It is in my world,” I muttered softly. As we climbed into his truck, I said more loudly, “When we’re done painting, I have to go home. Aunt Susan texted and said that Armani’s questioning is over and she’s heading back to the house.”

“Do you want to go there first?” Nat offered.

“No. Let her debrief with everyone else first.”

“Okay, then palettes and paintbrushes it is!”

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I told him.

“I’m being an enthusiastic participant,” he corrected pulling the truck out of the parking space. After a long moment he surprised me by asking, “You think they’re dead, don’t you?”

I bit my lower lip and hung my head.

“You think we’re not chasing, just a kidnapper, but a killer. That’s why you’re so glum.”

“Kidnappers…killers…” I corrected. “I don’t see one person could have repeatedly pulled this off.”

He nodded slowly, slowing the truck for a red light. “You might be right. No bodies have shown up.”

“But no ransom demands have been made either,” I countered. “Why would you hold three couples, at least three that we know of, captive?”

“Maybe it’s for a new reality TV game show,” God suggested from my bra.

Ignoring the lizard’s bonkers theory, I continued. “I think it’s much more likely they’re dead.”

Nat glanced from the road over to me. “You were serious when you told Herschel you thought he might be in danger going on a date.”

“I was.”

He drummed on the steering wheel as he drove. “Let’s say you’re right. What does this have to do with Armani?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. She doesn’t have the cleanest, most innocent, dating history. Maybe it’s an ex’s warped version of revenge. It doesn’t matter how long Jack Stern keeps a lid on it, eventually the story will break that she’s connected to all three sets of victims. It’ll destroy PMS. It will hurt her. Or maybe taking Armani and making her suffer directly is the end goal.” My voice shook as I said the last part out loud.

Nat reached over and patted my knee, offering wordless comfort.

I was grateful that he didn’t say anything. I didn’t think I could stand hearing any meaningless platitudes or empty promises.

The solemn silence of worry was suffocating, and I literally gasped for air when I practically fell out of the truck once we’d parked at the pottery shop.

Nat walked around the truck and studied me with a concerned gaze as I tried to get my breathing under control. “I can handle this. You could wait out here.”

I shook my head. “No. I’ve got to do this.”

He nodded his understanding and offered me his arm.

I hesitated a long moment and then looped my own through his, letting him support me. I sagged weakly, greedily soaking up some of his strength. Finally, I managed to murmur, “Thanks.”

“We’ll do this together, Lee,” he pledged. “We’ll figure it out.”

Arm-in-arm we walked to the door of the pottery store.

“I’m a lousy date, aren’t I?” I joked weakly.

He chuckled, “You’re the most interesting.”

21

There are many things I’m not good at. I was officially adding, “painting bisque ware” to the list.

I was making a complete mess of the trinket tray I’d chosen. It looked like a splotchy mud puddle instead of meadow with flowers. Meanwhile, beside me, Picasso was creating a masterpiece on the serving platter he’d chosen.

While we’d painted, the woman who ran the place had told us everything she remembered about Declan and Antoinette. None of it was useful. “Such a cute couple,” she concluded with a smile. “Like you two.”

I was going to explain we weren’t a couple, but Nat kicked me under the table. Instead of telling the truth, I rubbed the spot where his shoe had collided with my shin.

The manager moved away to help a mother who was trying to wrangle three mini-artists under the age of eight at another table.

“Sounds like they were having the best first date of their lives,” Nat remarked as he expertly applied color to his platter. “Armani did a good job matching them.”

“It does seem that way,” I admitted grudgingly, accidentally smearing my hand with paint. “Maybe they found love.”

“Speaking of love, how’s Ian doing?”

The out of the blue question about my brother was so surprising that I froze in the middle of wiping the mess off my skin.

“Touchy subject?” Nat guessed.

“It’s fine. He’s fine. They’re fine. Soaking up the sun and settling into their new lives.” The words came tumbling out in a torrent to cover the fact I didn’t have a real answer. In truth, I hadn’t spoken to Ian much since he and his mob doctor lover had relocated to Arizona.

“You must miss him.”

“I think it’s been harder on Archie,” I admitted. My father had thrown himself into his passion of making deli sandwiches, but I knew he wished Ian was still around.

“And of course you’re missing Gino.” Nat’s words were matter of fact, but there was no mistaking the curiosity behind them.

I tensed at the mention of my last boyfriend. “Of course.”

He held up his platter and turned it this way and that, examining it carefully. “Do you think you’ll ever get over him, or was he the great love of your life?”

I chuckled. “You’ve been spending too much time around Aunt Loretta if you’re saying stuff like “great love of your life”. She’s probably had more “great loves” than she can count.”

He grunted unintelligibly.

I slid a sideways glance at him. His full attention was on his artwork as he dabbed his paintbrush on the edge of the platter.

“Why the questions about love?” I found myself asking. “Have you found someone special?”

The paintbrush hovered for a moment between strokes. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m not the one to look to for advice,” I told him. “And neither is Loretta. Neither of us is the poster child for successful relationships.”

“You’re right.” He finished the border with a flourish. “Maybe I’ll ask Armani.”

I squinted at him, unable to tell whether that was a joke.

A crash and a cry from the table with three kids interrupted our conversation.

“I think that’s our cue to go,” I told him. “Armani should be home by now.”

Nodding, he dealt with the store employee while I went outside and checked my phone.

“Are you over him?” God asked, pulling himself up my bra strap.

“What?”

“Gino. Are you over him?”

“Why is everyone obsessed with Gino lately?” I asked impatiently. “Marlene, Delveccio, Nat, now you.”

“We’re worried about you,” the lizard replied calmly. “It’s time for you to move on.”

“What does that mean? That I should throw myself at the next available man just so I don’t have to be alone? I’m fine on my own and in case you haven’t noticed, it’s not like my life isn’t busy.”

“Methinks you sound defensive,” he said from my shoulder.

“Methinks you should shut up and leave me alone,” I growled back.

“Excuse me?” an unfamiliar voice interrupted from behind me.

Startled, I whirled around and found a man with his arms crossed over his chest and a woman smiling politely. Both were in their early thirties and wore matching yellow polo shirts and khakis. I immediately wondered if they were in some sort of cult. Then I thought maybe they were some kind of sales team.

“Were you there on a date?” the woman asked pleasantly, pointing at the pottery store.

I couldn’t tell her that I was there investigating the disappearance of three couples, so I nodded.

“Did you enjoy the experience?” the man’s voice was almost robotic.

“I don’t really have any artistic ability,” I replied honestly. “Do you guys work here or…?”

“We work around here,” the woman replied.

“Can I ask you to look at a picture?” I fumbled for my phone and pulled up the photographs of the missing couples. I selected the shots of Declan and Antoinette and held it out for them to see. “Have you seen these two?”

They looked from the phone to each other.

“Why?” the woman asked, her pleasant smile slipping a little.

“I’m trying to find them and another friend told me they might have been here. I thought if they’d painted something, they’d have to come back to pick it up.”

“We haven’t seen them,” the woman declared. “But if you want to give me your name and phone number I can call you if they show up.”

I hesitated. It felt weird to be giving a stranger my number based on a conversation that was mostly a lie.

“Or not,” the woman shrugged. “I hope you find your friends.” She began to walk off with the man trailing behind her.

“Hey!” I called out. “Wait a second. You didn’t get my number.” I hurried after them and I gave her my first name and phone number.

“I’ll be in touch if I see them,” the woman promised.

When I turned back, I found Nat standing a few yards away, waiting.

“You told them your name is Margaret,” God marveled from my bra.

“That is my name,” I said without moving my mouth as I headed for Nat’s truck.

“But I’ve never heard you call yourself that,” he said.

Nat met me at the vehicle. “Making new friends?”

“They’re on the creepy side, which meant I kept things formal,” I added for lizard’s benefit. “But if there’s even the smallest chance they can help, I figured I should do whatever I can.”

Nat nodded, opened my door and helped me into the truck “Where to now?”

“Home, please.”

“You sound worried.”

“That’s because I’m anticipating chaos.”

22

I’ll be honest, I was expecting human chaos, but it was the animals that were running amuck when we got home.

As we pulled up to the house, Billy was chasing Rowdy and doing his best to head butt the raccoon into oblivion. Mike was flying low, squawking instructions to the masked adolescent. Twitch was hopping in a crisscross pattern in front of the goat, trying to save his friend.

Matilda waddled behind, oinking, “Separate corners! Separate corners!”

“Run! Run, Rowdy!” Irma brayed from her enclosure.

“What on earth is going on?” God asked, scrambling up to my shoulder.

I jumped out of the truck before it was even parked and bellowed, “Everybody cut it out!”

The crow, pig and donkey fell silent. Twitch stopped hopping. Rowdy turned back to face me. Billy, being a stubborn goat, ignored me. He used Rowdy’s compliance to his advantage and rammed into her.

The poor raccoon gasped as she flew through the air and slammed into the ground with a sickening thud.

“Rowdy!” Twitch wailed.

“Billy!” I roared. I ran toward the goat, ready to throttle him. But I wasn’t the one who got to him.

Alejandro, shrieking and spitting, charged right at him. Billy never stood a chance. The llama kicked him. Hard. The goat, screaming in pain, went flying.

“Yikes!” Nat exclaimed from beside me. “That looked like it hurt.”

The llama chased after the goat.

“Alejandro, no!” I shouted. “That’s enough.”

He stopped and looked back at me. “He deserves punishment.”

I wanted to calm him down, but Nat was right next to me.

“I think you punished him enough, buddy,” Mike squawked from a nearby tree.

“Don’t hurt him,” Rowdy gasped, limping toward the llama. “It was partly my fault.”

“The truly powerful practice strength and mercy,” God said from my shoulder.

The llama kept his gaze on me, awaiting my command.

“He’s had enough,” I told him.

He bowed slightly. “I shall return to patrol.” He trotted off.

I turned around and headed for the house.

“You’re not going to even ask what happened?” God asked in amazement.

“That was something,” Nat remarked, falling into step beside me.

“There’s never a dull moment around here,” I muttered.

The moment we stepped into the kitchen Armani called, “Chica, pull!”. Sitting at the table with Templeton, she held out the bag of Scrabble tiles and shook them at me.

“How long have you been sitting there waiting to ambush me?” I asked as I removed seven tiles from the sack.

“What’s going on?” Nat asked, standing behind me and peering over my shoulder.

“Aunt Maggie!” Alicia ran into the room and threw her arms around my waist. “Want to know what I learned about bees?”

I smiled down at her. “I’d like that very much but I’m also kind of busy. Can you give me a three-sentence summary now and all about them at some point when I have more time?”

She nodded and said, “A swarm of bees travels to find a new home, not to be aggressive. They weren’t looking to sting anybody. They just got scared and felt like they needed to protect their queen and so they lashed out with their stingers.”

I applauded her. “Great job. That’s good to know. Now I won’t be afraid of bees.”

“Me neither!” She gave me a hug and ran back out of the room.

“That was amazing,” Templeton said. “Well-handled, Maggie.”

I flashed him a grateful grin.

“Tiles, chica,” Armani ordered impatiently.

I put the letters down on the table in alphabetical order.

C E E J R S T

“Cats jeer?” Armani guessed. “Have you seen any laughing cats?”

“Piss is in the basement. She and DeeDee are keeping Katie company,” Templeton supplied.

“Cats jeer?” Poor Nat sounded thoroughly confused.

“Or C Jester.” Armani’s eyes grew wide. “Maybe there are Killer Clowns on the loose.”

“Coulrophobia. The fear of clowns,” God announced.

“Smiling cats and killer clowns,” Nat muttered.

“It’s a prediction,” Armani told him impatiently. “The messages are very accurate predictions. Tell him, Maggie.”

I looked over my shoulder at the man behind me. Amusement and disbelief warred in his eyes. I shrugged, “They are very cryptic messages that are often surprisingly accurate.”

He blinked.

“JET SCER…like jet skier,” Armani called out, pulling my attention to her. “The person we’re looking for is a jet skier.”

I shook my head. “Or a homicidal clown with a grinning cat.”

Although he tried to hide it with a cough, I heard Nat chuckling.

“Or rejects,” Templeton suggested.

“What?” Armani asked.

“Rejects, that’s what it spells,” he explained.

“How’d you see that?” she asked in amazement.

“I play a lot of word games. They’re supposed to help your cognitive functioning as you get older.”

“You all need help with cognitive functions,” God muttered.

I sat down at one of the empty chairs. “Rejects might actually make sense. Maybe it’s someone that one of the missing dates turned down.”

“That might explain one couple, but all three?” Templeton played along. “Logically that doesn’t make sense.”

“Excuse me,” Nat said with disbelief. “Are you really trying to figure this thing out using a couple of random Scrabble tiles?”

“They’re not random. The bag speaks to Maggie,” Armani insisted.

“It speaks to her?” Nat’s voice squeaked a little.

“You sound just like the other cynic, Jack,” she complained.

“Where is Jack?” I asked.

“We had a difference of opinion, and he left.”

Templeton leapt to the crime reporter’s defense. “Not before he made me promise to look after her.”

“What did you argue about?” I asked tiredly.

“Nothing to do with the missing couple.” I could tell from her tone that she wasn’t going to share the source of their fight. I decided to change tactics. “How’d it go with the police?”

“It was stupid,” she declared. “I told them I didn’t know anything about the other two couples and hours later they determined I didn’t know anything.”

“Do you even remember anything about the other two missing women?” I asked carefully.

“I don’t remember the older woman who they say shopped at The Corset. They made the connection between her and the store because of the credit card payment, but there’s no way to know if I even helped her. So many people come through. I can’t be expected to remember all the faces.”

“Of course not,” I soothed.

She let out a shaky sigh. “I do remember the other woman. The salon only has one handicapped accessible pedicure chair so I had to wait for her to be finished before my toes were done.”

“Did you talk?” I asked carefully.

“Sure. Unlike some people, I actually like my fellow human beings.” She gave me a pointed look. “She said she was getting ready for a date. I told her to have a good time and gave her a condom and a sample of Sexy Strawberry Lube.”

“To a stranger?” I asked as Templeton dropped his head into his hands like he was embarrassed.

“Why do you sound shocked?” God asked from my bra. “This is Armani.”

“It’s called marketing. I give out samples all the time,” Armani said defensively. “I own The Corset and the Psychic Matchmaking Service. What do you think I should hand out? Bookmarks?”

“Sexy Strawberry Lube,” I murmured, an idea popping into my head.

Templeton covered his ears.

“Do you give it out to your matchmaking clients too?” I asked my friend.

“Of course. I run a full-service business.” She tossed her hair for emphasis.

“Lube,” I muttered.

“Could you please stop saying that word?” Templeton implored.

“I really don’t understand how Loretta can be with someone who’s so uptight,” Armani remarked.

Considering how much headboard banging I’d heard coming from the bedroom of Templeton and Loretta, I could guess. For Templeton’s sake, I didn’t share the thought. Instead, I said, “You date a guy who wears the same leather jacket 365 days a year. Everyone has their quirks.”

“I’m not dating Jack,” Armani said.

“Please tell me you’re not dating that Sly guy,” Templeton said.

I glanced over at him, surprised by the amount of dislike he had for the computer whiz/hacker.

“I’m currently single and ready to mingle,” Armani declared. “Not that it’s anyone’s business. Or that I need any other person in order to attain sexual pleasure.”

I jumped up and looked at Nat. “I need you to go home and get dressed for a dinner date.”

“Okay, sure,” he agreed easily.

“What did you tell Declan to wear on his date?” I asked Armani.

“Dark jeans, light dress shirt and a blazer,” she rattled off.

I looked to Nat. “Can you replicate that?”

“Sure.”

“Then go. Go!” I shoved him lightly, pushing him toward the kitchen door. “I’ll be ready by the time you get back.”

Laughing, he let me push him out of the house.

I looked at my friend, hoping I wasn’t going to hate her answer to my next question. “What did you tell Antoinette to wear?”

“A red dress.”

“Marlene has one,” I said with relief. “I’ll wear that. But first I’ve got to call the cops.”

23

“Bring me! Bring me! Bring me!” Benny begged as I got dressed for my date with Nat.

“It could be helpful to have another set of eyes,” God opined.

I squinted at him, wondering why he was advocating for the mouse to go. “Are you tired? Do you want to stay home?”

“Of course not. It’s just that the rodent has proved himself helpful on many occasions.”

“Okay, Benny,” I agreed. “You can come along.”

I adjusted the dress I’d liberated from my sister’s closet. It wasn’t my personal style, and I wasn’t completely comfortable, but it was the best I could do in a pinch.

“You look good, sugar,” Piss purred as though she knew I needed the reassurance. She was curled up at the foot of the bed watching me while DeeDee was still in the basement guarding the girls.

A sharp rap on my window forced me to stop fussing with my outfit. “Hey, toots!” Mike called through the glass. “Minty’s bonding with the ass.”

“Minty can be an ass,” God muttered.

I slipped on a pair of heels, put the white mouse in my handbag and deposited the lizard in his usual hiding spot.

“It’s stuffy in here,” he complained. “Itchy too with this lace.”

“Sensitive skin, sensitive skin, sensitive skin,” Benny tittered from my bag.

“I had to wear a push-up bra,” I apologized to the lizard. “Last chance for you to decide to stay home.”

“And leave you to fend for yourself? Never,” he said in his most superior tone.

“Then no complaining,” I warned him as I hurried out of the room. I miraculously escaped the house without running into anyone and spotted the redhead. He was indeed bonding with Irma.

“Detective Mulligan?” I called, deciding it was safest to keep things professional in case anyone overheard me.

The desire that flashed in his green gaze when he turned to face me, was primal not professional. A wave of heat cascaded through my body and I felt my cheeks warm as he strode toward me.

“You look amazing, Mags,” he said in a low voice once he was within earshot. A conflicted expression twisted his features, and I wondered whether he was regretting that we were no longer together.

“Look what you’re missing out on, buster,” God mocked.

I bit back a smile and stood a little straighter.

“I don’t suppose you called to show me this,” Patrick murmured with a rueful grin.

“I know you used the credit card transaction to make the connection between the first kidnapping victim and Armani. Do you know what she specifically purchased?”

He shook his head.

“I’m guessing it’s Sexy Strawberry Lube,” I told him. “And I bet that’s what was dumped on the car of the latest couple to disappear. If you haven’t asked her yet, Armani gave a sample of it to the second woman when they met at the salon and to Antoinette, the last woman who was taken. If all three have that in common, it must mean something.”

He nodded slowly.

I considered telling him about the possible “rejects” but couldn’t figure out a way to do it that wouldn’t sound totally crazy.

“What are you dressed for, Mags?”

“Don’t tell him!” God bellowed.

Patrick’s gaze dropped to my squeaking, push-up bra enhanced cleavage. It took a while before he made eye contact again. “The dress?” he reminded me.

“I’m going on a date.” I was retracing the date of Antoinette, but he didn’t need to know that.

Jealousy flickered in his eyes and strained his voice. “You never dressed like that for me.”

“You never took me out in public,” I reminded him.

He dipped his head, silently agreeing with my argument. “It was complicated.”

I nodded. Everything with Patrick Mulligan was complicated. He’d simultaneously juggled two wives and two families, along with a career with the police and a side job as a mob assassin. My feelings for him were complicated too. He’d been an excellent murder mentor and in his own way, exactly who I needed when I’d most needed to be seen. But he’d hurt me terribly when he’d cheated on me with an ex. I make a lot of mistakes, but being with him again was one I planned on repeating.

Nat pulled up in his truck, but didn’t get out. It was like he understood he’d be intruding on a private conversation if he did. Instead, he took out his phone and stared down at the screen.

Patrick glanced in his direction. “Lucky guy.”

“You’ll look into the lube?” I prompted.

“Yeah, I’ll confirm it, but I don’t see it leading anywhere.”

“Maybe it’ll match up with an M.O. in a database or something,” I said hopefully. “You never know. You might get lucky and solve the case based on that little bit of information.’

He threw back his head and laughed. “If you ever decide to give up killing people, I’ll write you a letter of recommendation for the police academy.”

Chuckling, I turned and headed toward Nat.

“Be careful out there,” Patrick warned.

I raised a hand in acknowledgement as Nat slipped out of the truck, took my hand and helped me into the passenger seat.

He waved to the redhead before settling in behind the steering wheel. “Where to, Lee?”

“Declan and Antoinette had dinner at a place called The Hilt. I have to look up the address.”

“No need. I know it.” He began to drive. We rode in silence until he said, “Where do you think Stern went?”

“What?”

“He and Armani had a fight. My assumption was they had a blowup, and Stern went and posted the story.”

“Jack wouldn’t do that,” I told him. “He’s…honorable.”

Nat glanced over at me. “Your faith in him is justified. I checked a couple of minutes ago and the story isn’t out yet.”

I nodded.

“Did Mulligan have any news?”

“No. I was just telling him about the lube connection. He doesn’t see how that will lead anywhere.”

“Me either,” Nat admitted. “Do you think this reenactment of the date is going to do anything?”

“Probably not,” I admitted. “But I don’t know what else to try.”

“You could try letting the cops do their job. I know you and Mulligan have whatever it is you’ve got going on…” he trailed off for a moment as he swerved around a trash can rolling across the street. “But Detective Griswald is a rule follower.”

“You have to appreciate that he didn’t sound jealous or try to fish for information about you and Minty,” God piped up from my bra.

“True! True! True!” Benny agreed from my purse.

“Technically I haven’t done anything that Brian Griswald can find fault with,” I told Nat, skipping over any discussion of Patrick.

“Yet,” he said. “With you, Lee, it’s always just a matter of yet.”

“If that’s how you feel, why are you helping me?”

“My answer hasn’t changed since the last time you asked,” he muttered.

“Phone! Phone! Phone!” Benny squeaked excitedly.

“What is going on?” Nat asked, exasperated by all the animal noises.

“I think I’m getting a call,” I explained, opening my purse and taking care not to hit the mouse while I pulled out my phone. “It’s Templeton.”

“Answer,” Nat urged.

“Hello?” I put it on speaker so that he could hear the conversation.

“I do a lot of puzzles,” Templeton said as a greeting.

“For your gray matter,” I remembered.

“I’ve been trying to work through the ‘rejects’ thing as a logic puzzle and I think I’ve figured it out.

“Really?” I was doubtful since the tile messages usually seemed to defy logic.

“What if it wasn’t the women on the date who rejected the kidnapper?” Templeton asked excitedly. “What if it was PMS? If the matchmaking service rejected him…”

“That actually makes sense,” I said slowly.

“At least as a solution for a logic puzzle,” he agreed.

“Can you find Armani and ask her if she has a list of rejected matchmaking applicants?”

“I can’t,” Templeton said. “That’s really why I called. Armani’s not here.”

My stomach dropped.

“She went out. I couldn’t stop her. Susan tried to talk sense into her too, but you know your friend.”

“I don’t suppose she said where they were headed.”

“She didn’t,” Templeton confirmed.

“Okay, well, if she gets home before me, please let me know right away.”

“Will do. Good luck.” He disconnected the call.

“Do you want to try to find your friend or do the date reenactment?” Nat asked. “I’m up for helping you with either.”

“I have no idea where to even start looking for her,” I admitted. “Let’s do the date.”

24

The Hilt proved to a small, intimate, white tablecloths and candlelight establishment. Even I had to approve of Armani’s choice. It was a romantic spot.

“You’ve been here before?” I asked Nat after our waiter had listed the night’s specials and left us to peruse the menu.

“Yup.”

“It’s nice.”

“Uh huh.”

“Romantic.”

“I guess.”

I lowered my menu so I could watch him over the top of it. “Did I do something to bother you?”

“Besides starting a round of twenty questions?”

“It’s what people do on dates,” I pointed out. “They make small talk. If we sit here in silence, we’ll attract attention.”

“Yes, I’ve been here before. It’s nice enough, but you’re paying for the ambiance, the food leaves something to be desired. And I guess that if you were here with the right person, it could be considered romantic. How’s that for small talk?”

“Better,” I choked out.

“You don’t want to try the veal,” he urged. “It tastes like a faulty piece of beef jerky. Also, I’m pretty sure that prisoners would prefer their gruel to what passes for soup here.”

I slapped my hand over my mouth to prevent myself from guffawing loudly. “You could have said you don’t like the place.”

“That would have been a lie,” he said. “I hate this place.”

I wondered if the restaurant was as bad as he was making it out to be or if he’d had his heart broken in this very establishment. “Bad date here?” I asked sympathetically.

“Something like that,” he admitted.

“Have you made you choices?” our waiter asked, appearing tableside.

While we waited for our food, I slowly twisted in my chair, pretending to admire the layout of the restaurant. I was really looking for something suspicious, hoping to catch someone watching us from afar. I found nothing.

“You really believe in those tile readings?” Nat asked.

I shrugged. “I didn’t used to, but now, over and over, they’ve proven to be pretty accurate.”

“So you believe Armani is a psychic?” He sounded genuinely curious.

I crafted my response with care. “I think that people have all kinds of abilities we don’t really understand. How do you explain a four-year-old musical prodigy? Or Olympians with what seems like superhuman speed or strength compared to the rest of us?”

He nodded.

I waited for him to mock the idea, but all he did was sip his drink. I knew this tactic, the whole stay quiet and the other person will trip themselves up with their need to fill the silence. I calmly sipped my drink too.

He watched me steadily and then leaned back in his seat. “I’m not trying to pull some kind of gotchya thing, Lee. I was just trying to figure out what you believe.”

“People believe in all kinds of things that can’t be proven,” I told him. “They believe in their politics, their religion, their horoscope, and that miracles can happen. Faith over facts for most of us.”

“And you have faith in Armani?”

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “Do you believe in psychics?”

“Yes.”

He answered the question without a moment of hesitation.

I blinked, surprised.

“You look shocked, Lee,” he teased.

I shakily took another sip from my glass, unsure of how to respond.

I was saved from having to respond by the waiter delivering our dinners.

Once he was gone, Nat picked up his glass and raised it in a toast. He waited until I’d mirrored the action before he spoke. “To believing in things that defy explanation.”

We clinked glasses and stared into each other’s eyes while we drank.

“Did you tell Mulligan about the rejects theory?” he asked as he slathered butter into his baked potato.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“How would I explain where it came from?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m guessing he’d be skeptical of magical Scrabble tiles.”

“It does sound ridiculous,” I admitted.

“But the idea that someone rejected by PMS is the culprit behind all of this makes perfect sense,” he mused aloud. “Do we think Armani and Sly have kept track of these things?”

“Armani probably wouldn’t,” I admitted. “But Sly’s a computer guy, data driven. He should have it.”

“Maybe he should be our next stop.”

I nodded. Getting a list of specific names would probably prove more useful than retracing the steps of someone else’s date.

“Though he might not be able to focus on what he’s being asked once he gets a look at you.”

My gaze snapped up to meet his. His expression was unreadable. I couldn’t tell if he was flirting or making fun of me. “It’s Marlene’s dress.”

One corner of his mouth twitched upward.

“Armani said to wear a red dress, and I don’t own one. I know it looks ridiculous on me, but⁠—”

“Lee,” he interrupted. “I meant that Sly might be distracted because you’re a knockout.”

“Oh,” I murmured.

“Knockout,” God mocked from my bra. “What century is this guy living in?”

“Shh! Shh! Shh!” Benny berated from my purse on the floor.

I looked down at my pork medallions in a mustard sauce, unsure of what to say or how to react.

“Did I embarrass you?” Nat asked softly. “Or are you insulted?”

“Neither,” I replied.

“And yet you won’t make eye contact with me.”

I slowly raised my gaze to meet his.

“Why is it, Lee,” he asked in a quiet tone, “that every time I think our relationship has moved forward, you run three steps back?”

“He has a point,” God opined before I could argue.

Feeling defensive, I pivoted hard. “Tell me about the last time you were here.”

“Four steps back,” he muttered and then shoved a forkful of glazed salmon into his mouth.

“I’m going to use the restroom,” I announced awkwardly, grabbing my purse and jumping to my feet. I stumbled away, blinking back tears. Weaving my way through the tables, I murmured apologies as I lurched along. Finally, I reached the Ladies Room. Pushing the door open, I dove into the nearest stall, slammed the door shut and let out the shuddering breath I’d been holding.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” Benny squeaked.

“She’s having some sort of panic attack,” God replied.

“It’s not a panic attack,” I argued breathlessly.

“Anxiety,” he substituted.

“It’s not anxiety,” I countered.

“Nerves. Her nerves got the better of her,” the lizard declared with exasperation.

“It’s not nerves!” I spat out.

“She’s as loony as her mother,” God spat out.

I swayed weakly, wondering if he was right.

“Breathe. Breathe. Breathe,” Benny coached.

I focused on doing that for a full minute before I asked, “What just happened?”

“You had a bit of a breakdown in the little girls’ room,” God supplied in his most helpful tone. “But you’re doing better now.”

“I meant with Nat,” I muttered.

“You freaked out for no reason.”

“PMS! PMS! PMS!” Benny reminded me.

I suspected they both might be right.

“Splash some water on your face,” the lizard urged. “You’ll feel better and get control of yourself.”

I stepped out of the stall, walked to the sink and reached to turn the water on.

“Phone! Phone! Phone!” Benny squeaked.

Sighing, I reached into the bag and pulled out the device. I considered not answering when I saw it was Templeton calling again. “I really need to encourage that man to text,” I muttered before accepting the call. “Hello?”

“Maggie, come home,” he whispered urgently. “The cops want to talk to you.”

“Why?” I whispered back, despite being alone in the restroom.

“They think Armani’s been taken.”

25

“We’ve got to go,” I tossed all the cash I had on the table in front of Nat and practically ran for the exit.

By the time I reached his truck, he’d caught up with me. “Talk to me, Lee.”

“Templeton called. The cops think Armani may have been taken.”

“What? How?” He helped me into my seat and jogged around to the driver’s side.

“Armani went out and they found her car, abandoned.”

“Where?” He started the truck.

“In front of The Corset. In the fire zone, which is why the cops were called.”

“She went out alone?” It had gotten dark while we were in the restaurant and his features were illuminated by the glow of the dashboard.

“Apparently.”

He maneuvered the truck out of the restaurant’s parking lot. “What was she thinking?”

I shrugged. “It’s Armani.”

“Even more stubbornly independent than you,” Nat muttered.

My phone rang again. I put it on speaker as I answered. “Hey, Templeton. Tell me you’ve got good news.”

“Worse news, I’m afraid.”

I squeezed my phone, bracing myself for whatever he was going to reveal.

“The police are saying that there are signs of a struggle in The Corset,” Templeton shared.

“Do you know why she went there?” Nat asked.

“According to Loretta, she said something about checking on lube,” Templeton supplied. “Maybe after our discussion she thought she could use the sales records to figure out who’d bought it?”

“Maybe,” I agreed.

Templeton let out a shaky sigh. “I should have never let her go alone.”

“This isn’t your fault,” I soothed.

“We’re not going back to the house,” Nat said suddenly.

I looked over at him, surprised by the declaration.

“There’s nothing for us to do there that can help anyone,” he elaborated. “We should do what we had planned on doing.”

Realizing he was right, I nodded. “Templeton, we’re not coming straight home, but if you hear anything else, please call me immediately.”

“I will,” he promised. Then he warned, “Be careful. Not only is there a kidnapper on the loose, but I’m guessing Brian Griswald won’t be happy if he finds out you’re interfering with his investigation.”

“You say interfering, I say enhancing,” I quipped.

“Just be careful.” He ended the call.

I looked at Nat. “You’re thinking we should go check out Sly?”

He nodded. “Armani was probably right in thinking there’s a record to be found. I’m just thinking we might have a better chance of finding it with the computer geek instead of a lingerie mannequin.”

“Makes sense,” I murmured. “He’s got an office now on 35th Street. Let’s try there first.”

“My idea of the perfect evening is breaking and entering with you, Lee,” he joked and pulled a U-turn in the middle of the road and started to speed toward our destination.

“What was she thinking, going out alone?” I muttered ignoring his perfect evening comment.

“I know! I know this one!” Nat said sarcastically. “She was thinking: What would Maggie do?”

God chuckled

I wasn’t amused. I scowled and stared out the window. I tugged the hem of the dress down to compensate for feeling exposed.

After a long moment, Nat said, “The last time I was at that restaurant, I was working a job, trying to recover some stolen jewelry.”

“Why couldn’t you just tell me that?” I muttered.

“Because my insurance work requires that a sign a thousand non-disclosure agreements and telling you is against the rules. Now you tell me why you got so upset.”

I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Maybe I’m overtired.”

I didn’t know if he believed me or not, but he mercifully changed the subject. “Why would the kidnappers take Armani now?”

“And how would they know she’d be at The Corset after hours and alone?” I shook my head. “There’s more questions than answers.”

“Maybe Stern will have a theory?” Nat suggested.

“I wonder if he even knows about her abduction.”

“Call him! Call him! Call him!” Benny urged from my purse.

“I expect the lizard to be in your bra at all times,” Nat said. “But could you please explain why your bag is squeaking?”

“That’s Benny,” I admitted. I reached in, scooped out the little white mouse and held him up for Nat to see.

The little guy wiggled his whiskers.

“Of course,” the man beside me muttered. “I should have guessed.”

“I’m going to call Jack,” I told him, gently putting the mouse back in hiding spot.

Nat glanced over and then nodded.

Once again, I turned the speaker on so that he could hear the entire conversation.

The reporter answered on the second ring with a gruff, “Stern.”

I couldn’t tell from one syllable whether his gravelly voice sounded worried. “It’s Maggie. Sorry to bother you, but there’s a development.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “I heard that they found Armani’s car over the police scanner.”

Now I could definitely make out the strain in his tone. “There were signs of a struggle at The Corset.”

“Heard that too. I don’t suppose you have any idea who has her or where she is.”

“Not yet. I wanted to know if you had any idea how they even knew she’d be there alone.”

He was silent.

“Jack?” I prompted.

“She was alone because we had an argument and I left her to her own devices,” he admitted.

I winced, hearing the guilt in his voice. “She had plenty of other people who could have accompanied her. It’s not your fault.”

“It kind of is,” he argued. “She probably felt like she had something to prove to me.”

“Find out what they fought about,” God suggested from my bra.

“What did you argue about?” I asked Jack.

He didn’t answer immediately.

“Jack?” I prompted.

“I told her that I thought that Sly was conning her, getting her to invest her money in his matchmaking website,” he admitted grudgingly.

“I think she went to him with the idea,” I told him.

“Doesn’t mean he didn’t jump on the chance to take advantage of her.”

“True.” I might be leery of the reporter because he was a threat to my illegal activities, but Jack was a good guy. I didn’t hold the computer whiz/hacker in the same high regard.

“We’re headed to Sly’s office now,” I told him.

“Who’s we?” he asked suspiciously.

“I’m with Nat Hunting.”

“Good. At least you’re with someone who can protect you. Be careful and let me know if you find out anything useful.”

“Will do,” I promised. I crossed my fingers as I made the pledge like that somehow negated the lie. If we discovered anything, I was going to deal with it myself. Knowing Jack he’d want to call in the cops and I didn’t love that idea. “Don’t blame yourself for this, Jack. We both know she goes and does whatever she wants.”

“Thanks,” he murmured. “Later.”

I disconnected the call.

“Do you think Sly is conning her?” Nat asked immediately.

I shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t like or trust the guy.”

“We’re almost to his office,” Nat said. “We’ll break in and hopefully find some answers.”

I nodded like I believed it would be that easy. I should have known better.

26

Brown paper covered the plate glass windows of the office Sly was using, making it impossible to see inside, but I could see the faint glow of light from within the building.

“Maybe he’s here,” I suggested to Nat. “I’m going to knock.”

“Knock?” he asked with disbelief.

“Well, it’s either that or break the glass,” I snapped.

“Or I could just pick the lock.”

God piped up from my bra. “He’s an excellent lockpicker.”

“I’ll knock,” I announced. “And if that doesn’t get us inside, you can work your magic with the lock.” Before he could protest, I rapped on the glass with knuckles three times.

There was no obvious movement inside, so after about twenty seconds, I stepped back and gestured at the door.

Pulling his lockpicking kit out of his blazer pocket, he looked up and down the street, making sure there was nobody around to witness our unlawful entry.

“Do you always carry that with you?” I asked.

“Most of the time.”

“That’s because the man values being prepared,” God said with the utmost respect. “I remind you that it’s something to aspire toward.”

While the lizard lectured, Nat popped the door open.

When I moved to step inside, he grabbed my elbow, stopping me in my tracks. “Normally I’d say ‘ladies first’ but tonight I’ve got to insist on entering first,” he whispered in my ear.

I nodded my understanding and moved back, allowing him to push the door open and step inside.

“Sly?” he called.

He got no reply.

I followed closely behind him and shut the door behind me. The space was dimly lit by the glow of the lamp that was on the desk in the middle of the room.

“Not exactly a fancy establishment,” Nat noted in a low tone.

“Armani said he wants to keep PMS separate from the rest of his life and work,” I revealed.

We moved another few steps into the room with Jack leading and me following closely behind.

“He’s got a lot of paper,” Nat remarked pointing to a pile of file folders on the desk.

“It’s an office,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, but he’s a geek. Paper is analog. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe Armani insisted on it,” I suggested. “It---”

“Phone! Phone! Phone!” Benny’s squeaking from my purse interrupted me.

I pulled it out and frowned at the display. “It’s Aunt Susan.”

“Answer it,” Nat said urgently. “Before she sends Griswald out to find you.”

“Hi, Aunt Susan,” I answered with false cheer.

“You have to come home, Margaret,” my aunt declared worriedly. “The most terrible thing has happened.”

I decided to pretend I didn’t know about Armani and play dumb. “What?”

“Daddy’s missing.”

“What?” This time I wasn’t faking it.

Nat, who was pawing through the pile of files, glanced at me sharply. I put the phone on speaker so that he could hear the latest problem.

“He’s gone. He’s not answering his phone. I’m terrified that Daddy went on a date!”

“Take a breath,” I urged. “You have to stay calm.”

“I can’t,” she argued. “What if something happens to him?”

“Where’s Griswald?” I asked, hoping he could help get her under control.

“He said he had to do some follow-up on that case you two worked.”

I frowned. We’d fought Syd Haleck and returned the stolen purse. What else was there for Griswald to do?”

“Please come home, Margaret,” my aunt begged.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I told her. “We’ll find Herschel.” I disconnected the call.

“What do you want to do?” Nat asked.

“We gotta go,” I told him. “But we’re taking the paperwork with us.”

He hesitated. “Nobody knows we broke in. If we actually steal stuff, he’ll know.”

“That’s a risk we’re going to have to take. There’s a chance that the mysterious rejects are in one of the files.”

He nodded his understanding and grabbed an armful of folders. I took the remaining pile and together we hurried back to his truck.

“Do you think your grandfather’s been abducted?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

As he helped me into my seat, Benny announced, “Phone! Phone! Phone!”

“There’s no such thing as silent mode anymore,” God griped.

I pulled out my phone, glanced at the display and lifted a finger to my lips, “Not a word,” I warned Nat.

He nodded his understanding.

“Hello?” My voice sounded as uncertain as I was feeling.

“Your place is crawling with cops,” Delveccio said.

I pressed the phone tight against my ear hoping that Nat couldn’t hear the other half of the conversation. “That’s because⁠—”

“I know why,” the mobster interrupted impatiently. “I want to know what you’re doing about it.”

“Searching for Armani?” I replied weakly.

“And what’s that fool Griswald doing?”

“I have no idea,” I admitted.

“Fix this before it gets worse,” the mobster ordered and then hung up on me.

I blinked and slowly lowered the phone from my ear.

“You okay?” Nat asked.

I nodded. “Can we just go now?”

“Sure. Put your seatbelt on.” He closed my door and hustled around to driver’s seat while I fumbled with the safety device.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked with concern.

“I’m good,” I told him.

He kept whatever questions to himself, and we drove back to the house in silence.

“I’ll stay in the truck and go through the files while you deal with your family fallout,” he offered.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

God felt the need to point out, “He’s getting the much better end of that deal.”

“I appreciate the help,” I told Nat.

He flashed me a grin. “See? It’s not so bad accepting a hand occasionally, is it?”

“It’s not,” I admitted before sliding out of my seat and climbing the stairs of the house to face who knows what. I squeezed the handles of my purse and straightened my shoulders, trying to prepare myself.

“Don’t go that way, sugar,” Piss warned as I reached for the front door. “Go through the kitchen.”

“Why?” God asked.

I didn’t hesitate to follow the cat’s advice or ask questions. I crept back down the stairs and tottered toward the rear of the house.

“The witches are in the living room,” Piss explained.

“You shouldn’t call them that,” I told her.

“You didn’t witness their behavior tonight,” she countered unapologetically.

I didn’t argue. I knew how my aunts could be. It’s why my father had referred to them as ‘the witches” as I was growing up.

When I stepped into the kitchen, I found myself facing my sister and Detective Brian Griswald sitting at the table.

“Is that my dress?” Marlene asked the moment she saw me.

I nodded.

“It’s a nice dress,” Brian complimented.

“You can’t just go stealing my stuff, Maggie,” my sister complained like we were still kids.

“I borrowed it,” I said defensively.

“Without asking. What⁠—”

“Ladies,” Brian interrupted. “We have important business to attend to. Do you think you could table your petty squabbling for a couple of minutes?”

“Of course,” I told him.

“It’s not petty,” Marlene pouted, jumping to her feet. “I’m done answering questions.” She flounced out like her young daughter might if she was having a temper tantrum…only Alicia didn’t throw temper tantrums.

“Sorry,” I apologized to the detective.

“I’m guessing you look better in the dress than she does and she’s jealous.”

“Is that your professional opinion?” I teased.

He shrugged. “I’m a professional observer of human behavior. Have a seat.”

I sat down at the table.

“You know Armani is missing?”

I nodded.

“Any idea why she was at The Corset?”

“We kind of figured out that there’s a good chance that all three of the missing women were in possession of Strawberry Sexy Lube.”

Brian hung his head and shook it. He sighed heavily before asking, “And you know this how?”

“Well, I’m guessing it was on the car of the last victims,” I explained. “And Armani remembered giving a sample to the second woman when they encountered each other at the salon. We just kind of assumed that the first woman’s purchase at The Corset included some.”

He nodded. “And you didn’t think to share this information with anyone?”

I blinked, fighting to keep my expression neutral. I had, in fact, shared the theory with Patrick Mulligan, but I didn’t want to get my murder mentor in trouble. I wasn’t sure how to answer.

“She told me,” a familiar voice said as the redhead himself walked in through the dining room. “I’m having the crime scene techs confirm that’s what the sweet sticky substance was.”

Brian nodded, seemingly satisfied. “And do you have any idea where your grandfather is?”

I shrugged.

“Do you think he’s been abducted?” Brian pushed.

“I honestly have no idea,” I told him. “Maybe? Or maybe he’s an obstinate old man desperate to find love and he went on a date even though we implored him not to. I don’t know.”

“I guess time will tell,” Brian murmured.

I didn’t find that reassuring.

27

After Brian left, Templeton joined me in the kitchen.

“Can I get you something to eat?” he offered.

“Not hungry,” I told him.

“Nobody is,” he muttered. “Does Brian have any leads on Armani’s whereabouts?”

“Not yet.”

Shoulders slumped; he shook his head. “I should have never taken my eyes off her.”

“She’s an adult,” I reminded him. “She’s responsible for her own choices, no matter how bad they might be.”

Aunt Susan bustled in; her expression pinched with stress. “I thought you’d gotten through to him.”

I knew she was talking about her father. “I did too.”

“What was he thinking?” she demanded to know.

I shrugged helplessly.

She began rummaging through the cabinets. “Leslie and Loretta are beside themselves with worry. I’m going to make them some tea. It might help calm their nerves.”

I watched her frantic searching with concern. She knew where everything was in the kitchen yet seemed unable to remember the location of the tea.

While she opened and closed cabinet doors, Templeton put the kettle onto boil.

Susan sagged with relief when she finally found the tin she was looking for. Her hand shook as she measured the leaves to dump in the teapot.

“Aunt Maggie, Aunt Marlene says you’re a selfish brat,” Katie announced, marching into the kitchen, oblivious to the tension.

“That’s because I borrowed something without asking her permission,” I murmured. “She has every right to be upset.” I looked over Katie’s shoulder at Alicia who’d trailed in behind her. The more sensitive of the two cousins looked anxious. I smiled at her reassuringly, “Don’t worry, Alicia. Your mom won’t stay mad at me forever.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“We’re hungry,” Katie announced. “Can we have grapes on a stick? They taste better that way.”

“Sure,” Templeton agreed. “Give me a couple of minutes to load up the skewers.”

“Woohoo!” Katie cheered and ran out of the room.

Alicia, who’d stayed behind, was frowning.

“You don’t want grapes?” I guessed.

She shook her head.

“What would you like, sweetie?” Templeton asked.

“An apple,” she requested shyly.

“We can do that,” he told her. “Would you like it sliced?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll bring it out to you in a couple of minutes,” he promised.

She smiled and skipped out.

Templeton, having a task, seemed to relax a little. Meanwhile, Susan was staring at the kettle, trying to will it to boil.

I wished there was something to say that would make her feel better, but I suspected empty reassurances would have done more harm than good. Instead, I got up, wrapped my arms around her, and gave her a hug.

She squeezed back. “Lawrence went to look for Daddy.”

I couldn’t even imagine where her husband would start searching for her father. “Where?”

She shrugged and released me as the kettle began to whistle.

I left her to make the tea and Templeton to prepare the fruit and slipped out of the kitchen. Hurrying to my bedroom, with Piss following closely behind, I put took Benny out of the purse and put him back in his enclosure.

“Tired, tired, tired,” he squeaked burrowing himself under a bed of straw.

“Get me out of this suffocating, itchy contraption,” God begged as I removed Marlene’s dress.

To accommodate him, I changed out of the push-up bra and dressed quickly in jeans and my softest shirt.

“Ahh,” the lizard sighed with relief. “The touch, the feel, of cotton.”

“Is there anything I can do to help, sugar?” the cat purred while rubbing against my shins.

“Can you find Alejandro and ask him if anybody was around watching Armani?”

“He would have told us if there were any intruders,” the cat replied, “but I’ll go confirm it.”

I opened the bedroom door a crack and she darted out.

“You think someone was following Armani?” God asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. How else would you explain them knowing she was at The Corset when it was closed?”

“Maybe Hunting has found the answer in those files,” the lizard suggested.

“Oh, geez, Nat!” I muttered. “I forgot he’s sitting out there in his truck.” Doing my best to avoid Aunt Susan, I ran out of the room and sprinted toward the front door.

“Is that you, Maggie?” Aunt Loretta called from the living room.

“I’ve got something to do,” I answered, not slowing down. I dashed out the door and ran toward Nat’s truck. “I’m sorry that took so long,” I apologized breathlessly as I reached the driver’s door. But he wasn’t there.

He wasn’t behind the steering wheel. He wasn’t in the truck. I spun in a circle, and he wasn’t anywhere in sight. My stomach dropped as I wondered if someone had taken him too. “Nat?”

I stumbled as my rear end was smacked. More accurately, I was head-butted by an ornery goat.

“Baaaaarn,” Billy bleated.

“If you’re looking for the big guy, he’s in the classroom,” Rowdy, the raccoon, confirmed from the shadows. “Billy’s mad because he won’t let him eat any of the papers.”

I hurried to the barn, realizing that the classroom lights were on.

“Hi, Maggie,” Irma brayed as I hurried past her stall.

“Hi,” I murmured, distracted.

Throwing open the door to the classroom, I saw that there were piles of files on the desks of Katie, Alicia and Dominic, and that Nat was hunched over Mrs. Lassalan’s desk, studying some papers.

He glanced up when I entered.

“Find something?” I asked, moving to stand beside him.

“The dating world is horrific,” he revealed. “And people are desperate.” He waved at the files. “All these desperate people hoping a psychic matchmaker can help them find love.”

“Pathetic,” God declared from my bra.

“It’s depressing,” Nat concluded. “And some people are downright weird. I’ve put the fairly normal, just unlucky in love people on the desks. These,” he waved to encompass the teacher’s work surfaces, “these are the most suspicious characters in my opinion.”

I was tempted to ask what criteria he’d used to judge them but thought better of it. He’d obviously put effort in, and I didn’t want to discourage him. I grabbed the closest file, flipped it open, and found myself looking at a photograph of a balding man with glasses. “He looks harmless enough.”

“According to the hobbies and interests section of his application, he collects serial killer memorabilia,” Nat revealed dryly.

“Oh,” I murmured, both surprised and repulsed.

“This one,” he tapped the next file over. “She grows poisonous plants.”

“And they wonder why they’re single,” I quipped.

Nat nodded. He picked up a third folder. “These two, a brother and sister duo, are insistent that they be matched with another pair of siblings.” He flipped it open. “They totally look like something out of a horror movie where everything appears to be perfect at the beginning, don’t they?” He held up their picture for me to see.

I gasped, stunned. I grabbed the photograph from him so that I could examine it more carefully.

“What?” God asked, clambering out of my bra. “What is it?”

“I’ve met these two,” I revealed slowly. “They were already walking away so you didn’t see their faces, but I talked to them outside the pottery shop. I thought they were weird, maybe in a cult or something, because they were dressed alike. I didn’t realize…” I trailed off, processing the fact that I had most likely crossed paths with the kidnappers and not even known it.

28

“It can’t be a coincidence that they were at the pottery place and engaged you in conversation,” Nat said, his voice low, weighted down by worry.

I flipped through the file, a flicker of excited hope flickering in my gut. “Is there an address in here for them?” If there was, we’d have a good place to look next.

“It’s redacted,” Nat said. “All the names and contact information is blacked out in these files.”

“Why?”

He shrugged.

“But it has to be somewhere,” I muttered with frustration. “Sly probably has it. We need to find him.”

“Do you think we should tell the cops?” Nat asked carefully. “We could let them handle it.”

“I get this is dicey. You can stay out of it,” I told him, snapping the folder closed and clutching it to my chest. “I’m going to figure this out myself.”

“Figure out what?” Piss meowed, wandering into the classroom.

“They’ve got a lead,” God told her excitedly. “Maggie may have met the kidnappers earlier.”

“I double-checked with Alejandro,” the cat told me, pausing for a moment to lick her paw. “He confirmed that there was nobody here watching Armani or anyone else.”

Nat yanked the folder from my grasp. “You’re not doing anything alone, Lee. I didn’t suggest calling in the cops because I’m afraid.”

“Now is not the time for you to argue with the man,” God warned.

“I want to go to Sly’s home,” I told Nat.

He nodded. “Makes sense.”

“I’ll hold down the fort here,” Piss called after us as we hurried to Nat’s truck.

“I know you, Lee,” he said as he started the engine. “If we find an address for these two freaks, you’re going to go running off to find them. Promise you won’t do it alone.”

“I promise.”

He glanced over, surprised and suspicious. “That was awfully easy.”

I shrugged, thinking I wouldn’t go after them alone. I’d have God with me.

We sped through the darkened streets toward Sly’s residence.

“What did they say to you?” Nat asked curiously. “When you talked to them at the pottery shop, what was the conversation about?”

“They asked if I’d been on a date and they said they worked around there.”

“You gave them your number,” God reminded me.

“And I gave them my phone number,” I shared with Nat.

His head snapped toward me. “You gave them your phone number?”

“Watch the road,” I instructed. “Yeah. I showed them the picture of the missing couple. They said they’d call if Declan and Antoinette showed up.”

“And you didn’t think that was weird?”

I shrugged. “I thought that they might remember something helpful and give me a call.”

“Did you get their number?”

“No.”

“Too bad, we could have traced it back to their location.”

Guilt swirled in my gut. “I should have realized it was them.”

“How? Are you psychic too?”

“I should have known,” I repeated, the bitter taste of self-recrimination coating my tongue.

“Give yourself a break, Lee. You can’t be all-knowing.”

“But if something happens to Armani because I let them go…” I trailed off. The dark fear hung in the space between us.

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” he replied solemnly. “Stop blaming yourself for perceived past mistakes and focus on what can be done in the present.”

“Excellent advice,” God concurred. “You can only do better moving forward.”

We rode the rest of the way to Sly’s home in silence. I replayed my conversation with the siblings over and over, wondering if I’d missed something during our exchange.

“We’re here,” Nat announced, sliding the truck to a stop in front of Sly’s house. “How do you want to handle this? Should we appeal to his better nature and hope that he cares enough to try to help Armani? Or we could try the good cop, bad cop approach? Or we could just break in and go through his stuff while he sleeps.”

“We’re not cops,” I pointed out. “And if he wakes up, he could call the police and have us arrested for burglary. I’m voting for ringing the doorbell and telling him the truth. He and Armani have a bit of a thing going. I’m betting he’ll be willing to help without coercion.”

“It’s your call,” Nat climbed out of his seat, and I slid out of mine.

Sly’s house was dark as we approached.

“You’d think a computer dude would have all kinds of motion-activated lights,” Nat complained.

I yelped in pain and alarm as I rolled my ankle after stepping on something small that slid beneath my foot. I would have fallen, but Nat caught me.

Hauling me against his chest to keep me upright, he murmured, “Easy, Lee.”

For a second I had the desire to just stay in his arms, safe and protected.

“You okay?” His voice sounded huskier than usual.

“Just slipped,” I murmured, extricating myself from his arms. Desperate to put some space between us, I hurried toward Sly’s front door. I reached for the doorbell and then froze as I realized that the door was slightly ajar.

“It’s open,” I told Nat.

“Get behind me,” he ordered.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I’m not the kind of woman who takes orders well. I’m also not known for thinking things through. I pushed open the door and cautiously stepped inside.

“You’re impossible,” he whispered in my ear, stepping up close behind me.

I blinked against the darkness straining to hear. I couldn’t make out any strange sounds, but something felt off. I couldn’t quite name what it was.

Slowly, carefully, with Nat right behind me, I shuffled forward a few feet. Almost immediately I collided with something semi-soft on the ground. It groaned.

Nat turned on his cell phone’s flashlight, bathing the area in bright light. I blinked against it for a moment as I registered the man’s body at my feet. His face was covered with blood, but I recognized him.

“Sly!” I dropped to my knees beside him. “Sly, it’s Maggie.”

His eyes fluttered open, dazed and unfocused, and then drifted closed.

“Is he breathing?” Nat asked.

I rested my hand on Sly’s chest and felt it rise and fall, his heartbeat steady beneath my palm. “Yes.” I leaned close to the unconscious man’s ear and told him, “Hang in there, Sly. We’re going to get you help.”

“Now we call 911,” Nat declared. “No arguments.”

“No argument,” I agreed.

While he called for an ambulance, I texted Patrick Mulligan about the situation and the address.

“It’ll be a couple of minutes,” Nat said. “I’m going to take a look around. But first I’ll turn on a light. You stay here.

“Be careful,” I urged.

A moment later the overhead foyer light flared to life. I surveyed the area as Nat hurried away.

Nothing looked out of place except for the man with the head wound sprawled out on the tile.

“Odd that Armani put up a fight at The Corset but there are no signs of a struggle here,” God said, having hauled himself up to my shoulder.

“I don’t think Nat’s going to find anything useful,” I confided. “I’m betting that Sly was cooperative and gave them what they came for.”

“At least they left him alive,” the lizard pointed out. “Maybe that means they’re just crazed kidnappers and not killers.”

I hoped he was right.

29

Detective Patrick Mulligan’s green gaze glittered with barely suppressed fury as he questioned us.

We’d already explained why we were at Sly’s house and what we’d found, but I could tell from the way he was doing his best to bore into my brain with his stare that he didn’t believe we weren’t holding something back.

“I don’t know what else to tell you!” My tone crackled with irritation. I was exasperated and worried about my missing friend.

“Tell me you’ll go home and sit this one out,” he barked back.

I cocked my head to the side and gave him incredulous look. He, of all people, knew I wouldn’t do that.

He turned his attention to Nat who was standing beside me, watching our exchange like it was a championship tennis match. “Convince her.”

Nat raised his hands defensively. “If you think she listens to anything I suggest you’re mistaken, pal.”

“She’s impossible,” Patrick complained.

“She’s standing right here,” I reminded them testily.

“I could arrest you,” the redhead threatened.

I glared at him. “For what?”

“Breaking and entering.”

“The door was open when we got here,” I countered.

“And we heard him groaning in pain,” Nat hurriedly added. To sell it, he added, “We had to attempt to render care.”

“Render care,” Patrick mocked, making clear he knew it was a lie.

“Look,” I muttered impatiently. “You can either continue to hassle me or you can figure out who these two are,” I poked at the matchmaking folder with the siblings, “and solve the case.”

“Go home, Miss Lee,” he said in a formal stilted tone and walked away from us.

“Where to?” Nat asked once we firmly ensconced in his truck again.

I shrugged. “I guess home. I have no idea where else to look.”

Nat started the engine. “It probably wouldn’t hurt to get some rest.”

“Mmmm,” I murmured, knowing there was no way I’d get any sleep until Armani was found. “Do you think Sly will make it?”

As he spun the steering wheel, Nat answered carefully, “Head injuries are tricky.”

I nodded, knowing he was right.

“Their names are Beatrice and Clyde,” he said after a long moment.

“What?”

“Beatrice and Clyde Verden,” he elaborated.

“How do you know that?”

He leaned forward, hovering over the steering wheel and pulled a piece of folded paper out of his back pocket. “I found the unredacted application.”

I snatched the sheet out of his hand. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because the uniformed cops were there by the time I got back to the foyer and Mulligan showed up not long after.”

“That’s because I texted him,” I admitted.

“Figured that.” He gave me a sideways glance. “I also figured you’d want first crack at Beatrice and Clyde. She’s the older sibling in case you were wondering.”

“I really wasn’t,” I told him. I scanned the paper, skimming their birthdates. “There’s no address listed.”

“I noticed that.”

I kept reading. “They love game shows, picking apples, and needlepoint. They label themselves a ‘bonded pair’ who do everything together and are looking to be matched with siblings with similar priorities.”

“I can see why Armani wouldn’t want to take them on.” Nat muttered. “They sound like a couple of warped lunatics.”

“None of this explains why they’ve taken to kidnapping couples.”

“Maybe they’re frustrated they can’t find love and are overwhelmed by jealousy when they see it,” Nat suggested.

“I think his warped lunatics take was more accurate,” God piped up.

“I’ll sleep in my truck in case you need me,” Nat offered as he pulled into the driveway and past Alejandro.

The llama was proudly prancing, his head held high. I sighed with relief; glad he was no longer blaming himself for the bee debacle.

“You don’t have to do that,” I told Nat.

“Somebody has to watch over you. Left to your own devices, you get yourself in trouble.”

“He’s not wrong,” God said.

“You’re not going to talk me out of it, Lee,” Nat insisted. “I’m spending the night.”

As we pulled up in front of the house, Piss streaked in front of the truck. Nat slammed on the brakes.

“Maggie! Maggie!” the cat mewled hysterically.

“Something’s wrong,” I guessed, throwing open the door.

“Come quick!” Piss begged, then took off like a shot before I could ask what’s going on.

I chased after her, zigzagging around trees, dimly aware that Nat was following behind me. There really wasn’t enough moonlight to see where I was going and I was terrified I’d trip on a tree root and break my neck.

“Slow down, Piss!” God called to the cat. “It’s too dark to see and you know Maggie’s a klutz in the best of situations.”

“This way,” she meowed through the shadows. “This way!”

Breathless, slipping and sliding, stumbling and almost tumbling, I did my best to keep up with her. The combination of exertion and panic made it feel like my heart was beating out of my chest.

“Stop!” Piss yowled.

I skidded to a halt just in time. I just missed trampling the pile of animals pressed together on the ground. “What the⁠—”

I fell to my knees beside the group, staring at the center of their huddle.

“Maggie is here,” Billy bleated.

“Help has arrived,” Matilda oinked. “You’ll be okay.”

“It’s about time,” Rowdy said impatiently.

“Don’t be scared,” Twitch added in his soft voice.

Behind me, Nat swept the area with the beam of light from his phone.

One by one, the goat, pig, raccoon and rabbit peeled away, revealing that they’d all been surrounding my grandfather. Herschel, lay on the ground, eyes closed.

Trembling, frightened by his stillness, I reached for his hand. “I’m here,” I whispered.

His eyes opened slowly. After a long moment, he managed to focus on me and smile slightly.

“Stay with him. I’ll get help,” Nat said, whirling around and racing back toward the house.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Alejandro found him on his patrol,” Piss explained breathlessly. “We think Herschel was out for a walk and fell and bumped his head. It was Billy’s idea to keep him warm.”

I looked at the goat who was nibbling on a weed.

“Thank you.”

The goat ignored my gratitude.

“I tried to get a human to follow me,” Piss complained, “but they shooed me outside.”

“They didn’t know any better.” I squeezed my grandfather’s hand. “You’re going to be okay.”

The animals milled around nervously, unsure of what to do.

“We tried to help,” Rowdy said.

“You did,” I assured the raccoon. “You kept him company. You kept him warm. There was nothing else you could have done.”

“Katie fell off the swing set,” Piss informed me. “She’s not seriously hurt, but DeeDee has refused to leave her side ever since.”

“Sounds like it’s been a busy night,” I joked weakly.

When my phone rang, I assumed it was Nat calling to tell me the cavalry was on the way and didn’t even look at the caller I.D. before I answered. “Please hurry.”

“Hello, Margaret,” a woman said. “Come on down and play our game.”

30

My heartbeat stuttered as I realized the caller was one of the kidnappers.

I barely managed to choke out, “Hello, Beatrice.”

She chuckled. “I knew you’d be a good opponent. Ready to play our game?”

Releasing Herschel’s hand, I leapt to my feet. “Where’s Armani?”

“Meet us at the high school in half an hour,” Beatrice commanded. “And if you want anybody to get out of this alive, you’d better come alone. Understood?”

“I understand.”

I could hear the voices of approaching family members as she ended the call.

“Piss,” I told the cat. “Tell DeeDee I need her and to meet me at my car. Hurry!”

“On it, sugar!” the cat raced away.

“I need you too, Rowdy,” I said to the raccoon. “Meet me at the car.”

She skittered into the shadows.

“And me!” Billy bleated, running off.

Nat emerged from the trees first. “Help’s on the way,” he assured me.

Griswald and Susan showed up arm-in-arm next.

“Daddy!” she wailed, kneeling by his side.

Aunt Leslie and Lorraine Lassalan followed closely behind.

The teacher immediately began giving orders while Leslie joined her sister at their father’s side.

“Cover him with your jacket, Nat,” Lorraine commanded. “Elevate his feet, Griswald.”

Aunt Loretta, holding onto Templeton, brought up the rear.

While they all fussed over Herschel, I made my escape. I slipped between the trees and bolted for the house before anyone even noticed I was gone.

When I reached my car, the Doberman, cat, goat and raccoon were all waiting.

“Going are where we?” DeeDee panted.

“To mount a rescue mission,” I told her, opening the car door and ushering the animals inside.

“Shotgun!” she woofed excitedly, leaping into the front passenger seat.

“I don’t like this,” the lizard on my shoulder announced. “I can understand if you don’t want to call the cops, but I think you’re making a mistake not telling Hunting.”

“She said to come alone,” I reminded God.

“Since when are you obligated to follow the directives of crazed psychopaths?” he countered.

“There are lives on the line,” I muttered.

“Save we’ll them,” DeeDee barked.

“Or die trying,” God grumbled.

With the animals inside, I closed the back door of the car. “You’re welcome to stay behind.”

“Then you’ll have nobody to coordinate the attack,” he argued.

I slid in behind the steering wheel and started the engine.

“Lee! Lee, wait!”

I heard Nat yelling my name but sped down the driveway. A woman on a mission.

I didn’t stop until we were a block away from the high school. Even then, it was only long enough to let Piss, DeeDee and Billy out of the car.

Rowdy refused to leave the vehicle. “I excel in the shadows,” she declared with all the self-importance of a cocky teenager.

I spotted Clyde immediately when I pulled into the parking lot. It would be hard to miss the man considering he was wearing a jacket bedazzled with silver and red beads. I drove straight toward him.

“Running him over won’t help you get Armani back,” God warned from my shoulder.

I braked in front of the man and jumped out of the car, taking care to leave the door open so that Rowdy could pull off her stealth moves. “Where is she? Where’s Armani?”

“Thank you for coming to play our game,” he replied with enthusiastic formality.

“I’m not playing games,” I warned him.

“If you’ll follow me.” He led the way into the school.

As I trailed behind him, I wondered how he’d gotten the keys to the building and what he was doing there.

He led the way down the hallways to the school auditorium and ushered me in ahead of him.

I gasped when I stepped inside. On the stage were the three missing couples. They were shackled together in pairs in various states of distress. They all look terrified, and some looked like they’d endured beatings.

Armani was tied to a chair at the front corner of the stage. “Run, chica!” she screamed the moment she saw me.

“C’mon down, Margaret!” Beatrice invited. She shimmied to the center of the stage, wearing a dress in the same bedazzled color scheme as her brother’s ugly jacket. The sparkling monstrosity looked like something Bob Mackie had designed for Cher while on crack. Even more jarring was the automatic weapon the woman brandished.

Focused on the gun, I swallowed hard. This was going to be a more challenging rescue than I’d anticipated.

Clyde nudged my shoulder, pushing me closer to the stage.

“You need to let them go,” I told the siblings. “None of these people have done anything to harm you.”

“She did!” Beatrice claimed, pointing the gun toward Armani.

My friend cowered away.

“How?” I asked, forcing myself to keep moving closer to the stage. “How did she harm you?”

“She refused to help us,” Clyde said from behind me.

“She rejected us,” Beatrice pouted.

“In your search for love?” I asked as I reached the stairs to the stage, with Clyde close behind.

“She said we were unmatchable,” Clyde whined.

“I said I couldn’t match you,” Armani corrected.

“Same thing,” Beatrice accused, waving the gun at my friend.

“But what did these other people do to you?” I waved at the three couples trying to distract her.

“They found love twice in their lifetimes,” Beatrice accused, pointing at the oldest couple. “I overheard her at The Corset telling the matchmaker all about it. That’s when I started following her.” Again, she gestured at Armani with the gun.

“And them?” I asked, pointing to the second couple who’d been taken.

“They’re damaged goods; nobody should want them!” Beatrice spat out hatefully.

“We’re all damaged in one way or another,” I argued, climbing up the stairs and onto the stage.

“Please tell me your plan is not to rush the woman with the gun,” God, who was hiding beneath my hair, whispered.

I really didn’t have a plan, but I couldn’t tell him that.

“They don’t deserve happiness,” Beatrice railed. “I’d followed Armani to that salon and there she is, congratulating that loser.”

“Loser,” her brother echoed behind me.

“And then after telling us no, she set up those two,” Beatrice raged, waving the weapon at them.

Antoinette began to cry.

Beatrice flashed a pleased grin. “Now we’re going to play a little game I like to call, “Who Do You Love?” It’s going to be a blast, literally.” She chuckled at her own joke.

“A gunpowder blast,” Clyde elaborated.

“These people are crazier than anyone at the asylum,” God muttered.

I mentally seconded that.

“Our contestant today is matchmaker Armani Vasquez,” Beatrice declared in her best game show host voice. “Do you want to know what you’re playing for, Armani?”

My friend’s lower lip trembled.

“You can choose between door number one,” she gestured toward the oldest couple with the gun. “Door number two.” She aimed at the second couple. “Or door number three,” she concluded, threatening Declan and Antoinette.”

All three couples flinched when her attention was on them.

I inched across the stage, closer to the madwoman. I still didn’t have a plan, but getting the gun away from her was the highest priority.

“Tell Armani what she can win, Clyde,” Beatrice instructed her brother.

“You can keep your friend alive!” He boomed.

I glanced back at him over my shoulder and realized he wasn’t as close as he’d been. I felt a little surge of hope. That could work to my advantage.

“The rules are simple. All you have to do to keep your best friend alive is to tell me which of these couples doesn’t deserve their love or lives,” Beatrice explained. She closed the distance between us and jammed the end of the gun into my chest. “If you don’t choose, your best friend dies.”

31

All three couples audibly gasped.

“No!” Armani cried.

I stared into the eyes of the woman threatening me and a chill raced through me. I’ve dealt with crazy people. I’ve also faced down evil, murderous people. I had no doubt she meant every word she was saying.

“Now!” God called. “Do it now!”

“Watch me! Watch me!” Rowdy chittered at the top of her voice as she skittered across the stage.

The lizard’s squeaking and the raccoon’s mad dash captivated the attention of the other woman. I used the momentary distraction to my advantage, grabbing the gun and trying to wrench it free from her grip, but she managed to hang on. We spun across the stage, locked in a death dance for control of the weapon.

The couples yelped in terror as Beatrice squeezed off a shot.

“Kill her, chica!” Armani screamed, struggling against her bonds. “Blow her head off!”

I was too busy trying not to die to even consider killing.

“Maggie I protect will!” DeeDee’s vicious snarl filled the air before her teeth clamped down on Beatrice’s arm.

“Fight, Maggie!” Piss yowled, leaping through the air and scratching my opponent’s face.

Fueled by the strength of being a certifiable lunatic, Beatrice hung onto the gun and pulled the trigger again. The sound of the bullet firing reverberated through the auditorium.

There were screams and crying.

“Bea!” Clyde barreled toward us, intent on helping his sister.

“Baaaad!” Billy cried, charging at the man and head butting him in the groin.

Letting out a primal scream, Clyde fell to the ground, clutching himself.

The goat raised up on his rear legs and drove his hooves into the man’s shoulder. At the same time, Rowdy began to scratch at his face.

I finally yanked the gun away from Beatrice and stumbled out of the way as DeeDee dragged her down to the ground with a menacing growl.

“You good, sugar?” Piss asked.

“I’m great,” I replied weakly, taking out my phone and dialing 911.

When the cops got there, I called my pets off, and they took custody of Beatrice and Clyde. Then they released the couples and Armani.

While medical staff attended to the victims, I answered the questions of Detectives Mulligan and Griswald. Both were irritated with me for not calling them when I explained that Beatrice had called me.

“She said to come alone,” I said defensively.

“We don’t take orders from psychotic criminals,” Brian Griswald pointed out.

Patrick just looked at my pets, huddled together in a corner of the stage. He knew I hadn’t come alone.

“How’s Sly?” I asked the redhead when Brian turned his attention to questioning Armani.

“He’s going to make it since you and Hunting broke into his place.”

“We didn’t break in. The door was open.”

He quirked an eyebrow.

“I swear.”

He shook his head. “You got lucky, Mags.”

I nodded, well-aware of how close things had come to going badly.

“They’ve done this before,” he revealed. He stared at the now handcuffed brother and sister, surrounded by uniformed officers. “Beatrice and Clyde Banning. Also known as Beatrice and Clyde Norton. Also known as Beatrice and Clyde Verden. Over the last few years, they’ve crisscrossed the country targeting dating website owners. This is the first time no one ended up dead.”

“Just barely,” God, back in my bra, muttered.

Armani limped over and snaked her good arm through mine and rested her head on my shoulder.

“Can we go home?” I asked Patrick.

He granted permission with a tired nod. “Go. If we have any more questions we know where to find you.

Armani leaned heavily on me as we walked out of the auditorium. The animals trailed behind us as we left the school. I loaded them all into my car. It was a tight squeeze with DeeDee, Billy and Rowdy in the backseat. Piss curled up on Armani’s lap in the front.

“Thank you, guys,” I said as I began to drive. “You were all really brave and I appreciate you saving us.”

“No problem, sugar,” Piss purred.

“It was fun!” Rowdy declared enthusiastically.

The goat gave me a baleful stare in the rear-view mirror.

“Hungry!” DeeDee panted.

“Nothing ever changes,” God muttered.

Alejandro blocked the driveway when we got home. I rolled down my window so that he could make his report.

“Herschel has gone to hospital,” he informed me somberly. “His offspring and their partners have accompanied him.”

“Thanks for the update,” I told him. “And thank you for finding him.”

“It was part of my patrolling duties.” He bowed slightly and then stepped aside so that we could pass.

When we reached the house, Nat was sitting on the porch stairs, scratching Matilda’s back. As we rolled up, he got to his feet, his gaze searching the interior of the car.

He hurried around and helped Armani out of her seat. “Are you okay?”

“I refused medical treatment,” she told him.

“Do you need medical treatment?” I asked, alarmed.

“I need a nap,” she announced.

I opened the back door of the car allowing the animals out. They all bolted for the barn, no doubt to entertain Irma and Twitch with the tale of their adventure. A snuffling Matilda waddled after them.

“Is anybody here?” Armani asked, eyeing the house.

“Marlene and the girls,” Nat told her. “I didn’t want to leave them here alone and unprotected.”

She patted his cheek. “You’re a good man. You were sexier when you were rocking the tats, but you’re still a good man.”

He chuckled and helped her up the porch stairs.

They’d reached the front door when a car came barreling down the driveway.

“It’s Jack,” I announced before anyone panicked.

The reporter jumped out of his vehicle and headed straight for Armani. “I sat on the story. Now you owe me an exclusive.”

Nat stepped aside so that Stern could accompany her into the house.

“True love,” I remarked once they were inside me.

Ignoring me, Nat marched straight to his truck.

As he climbed inside, I called, “Thank you.”

He froze, but didn’t look over at me.

“I appreciate that you stayed to make sure the girls were safe.”

Shaking his head, he climbed into his truck, gunned the engine and drove away.

“He didn’t say a word or make eye contact with you,” God pointed out.

“I noticed.” I sighed heavily, upset that Nat was angry with me.

“You may have irrevocably damaged your relationship with him,” the lizard continued worriedly.

“I don’t have a relationship with him.”

“Friendship,” the lizard supplied.

“We occasionally work together,” I corrected.

“Liar,” God chastised. “You know it’s a lot more than that. Just like you know he has every right to be upset.”

“I know,” I admitted.

“And yet, after all he did to try to help, you made no effort to apologize to him.”

I hung my head guiltily.

My phone buzzed. Glancing at the display I realized I should answer. “It’s Delveccio,” I told God. I answered the call with a simple. “Hello.”

“I hear you resolved your issues,” the mobster said.

“Maggie has a myriad of unresolved issues,” God said dryly.

“You okay?” the mob boss asked gruffly.

“I’m good.”

“Herschel?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Everyone is at the hospital with him.

“You need anything, you let me know.” He hung up.

“Sure,” I said to empty air. “Thanks for the offer.”

Shaking my head, I dragged my suddenly exhausted self up the porch stairs and sank into a seat.

“I’m sure Herschel is okay,” God soothed.

“I hope so,” I murmured.

Soon Piss and DeeDee joined us. The cat stretched out across my lap and began purring, while the dog settled at my feet. I was secretly relieved that the Doberman wasn’t complaining about hunger.

A few minutes later, Katie and Alicia ran out onto the porch.

“Aunt Maggie!” Katie threw herself at me, knocking Piss from her spot. The cat managed to perch herself on one shoulder while God stood on the other.

While she maneuvered herself onto my lap, I smiled at Alicia. “You know I have two arms to cuddle with, don’t you.”

She grinned and climbed up to join her cousin.

I kissed the cheek of one of my nieces and then the other before letting out a contented sigh.

My life might be complicated, but it was moments like this that made it all worth it.

The End

Don’t miss Maggie’s next misadventure: The Hitwoman and the Missing Mobster.

Maggie and Delveccio are in big trouble. The cops are closing in and enemies are coming out of the woodwork. Can they both survive or is this the end of a lucrative (and deadly) friendship?

Here’s a sneak peek of the opening:

You just know it’s going to be a bad day when you’re facing death by skee-ball.

There was only one thing to do: Stop, drop and roll.

I may have yelped in terror too.

A note from JB:

Thanks so much for reading The Hitwoman and the Missing Date. If you enjoyed it, please leave a brief review. It's very, very helpful. And don't miss the next book The Hitwoman and the Missing Mobster. It's book 50 in the series!

Hugs and murder,

JB

The Hitwoman and the Missing Mobster

Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman 50

Maggie Lee never planned on becoming a hitwoman with a heart of gold. She just fell into it—literally --with a stop, drop and roll, while visiting her niece in the hospital.

Delveccio, her mob boss, has always respected her rule about only killing bad people, which is why she wasn’t brought in for the Renoir job. Now that’s gone sideways, and the mobster has gone missing.

Maggie’s going to need all the help she can get, to find Delveccio and bring him home to his beloved grandson. That means she’s walking a fine line between working with a law enforcement investigation and a ragtag gang of allies.

At least she can count on her pets…as long as they can stop squabbling long enough to help her.

Order The Hitwoman and the Missing Mobster

Oh Shoot!

A Kiki Long Mystery Free Prequel

Ever since her husband disappeared seven months ago and it came out that he’d been embezzling funds from the town, pet photographer Kiki Long has been keeping a low profile.

But now it’s time to focus on creating a new life for herself.

Risking the wrath of the town’s residents, Kiki attends the annual Pride Falls Fair where she’s regarded with a mix of animosity, curiosity, and pity.

When a participant in the pie eating contest drops dead due to poisoning, Kiki realizes that the pictures she captured at the fair could hold the key to figuring out the mystery of his death. But it’s not like she can go to Sheriff Rockland with them. He still considers her to be a suspect in her husband’s disappearance.

With the help of her cat, Kodak, Kiki sets out to prove that her friend, who baked the deadly pie, did not poison it. Can she catch the killer? Or will this new development be what lands her in prison?

Get Oh, Shoot! for Free

Psychic Consignment Mystery Series

Sun, sea, and murder…

Escape to the beach town of Sarasota, Florida, visit an inherited consignment shop and meet the Concordia sisters in this cozy mystery series with a twist.

Bea, Winnie and Amanda use their powers to run a store brimming with unusual merchandise and even quirkier clientele while solving mysteries and falling in love.

Check out the Psychic Consignment Mystery Series

Now available on Audio

One Woman’s Junk

Gently Used, Still Works

Another Woman’s Treasure

Something Old, Something New

Cursed Chicks Club

What do you get when you combine a witch who doesn’t know her own power, a possessed cat and a dragon, all traveling in an RV caravan trying to break a curse?

Chaos and Adventure! Love and Laughter!

Follow Ravena and her friends as they try to right the world of wrongs, one magical moment at a time.

Visit the Cursed Chicks Club!

Also by JB Lynn

HITWOMAN BOOKS IN ORDER

Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman

Further Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman

The Hitwoman Gets Lucky

The Hitwoman and the Family Jewels

The Hitwoman and the Neurotic Witness

The Hitwoman Hunts a Ghost

The Hitwoman and the 7 Cops

The Hitwoman and the Poisoned Apple

The Hitwoman’s Downward Dog

The Hitwoman’s Act of Contrition

The Hitwoman Hires a Manny

The Hitwoman and the Sacrificial Lamb

The Hitwoman and the Chubby Cherub

The Hitwoman and the Mother Load

The Hitwoman Under Pressure

The Hitwoman Plays Chaperone

The Hitwoman Takes a Road Trip

The Hitwoman in a Pickle

The Hitwoman and the Gold Digger

The Hitwoman's Juggling Act

The Hitwoman and the Fallen Angel

The Hitwoman Goes to Prison

The Hitwoman and the Exorcism

The Hitwoman Plays Games

The Hitwoman Owes a Favor

The Hitwoman and the Teddy Bear

The Hitwoman and the Body

The Hitwoman Pays a Debt

The Hitwoman Plays Courier

The Hitwoman’s Girls’ Night Out

The Hitwoman's Getaway

The Hitwoman vs The Security Guard

The Hitwoman Investigates

The Hitwoman Gets Her Man

The Hitwoman and the Ninjas

The Hitwoman's Charity Case

The Hitwoman's Egg Hunt

The Hitwoman's Dying Wish

The Hitwoman and the Sitting Duck

The Hitwoman and the Flash Mob

The Hitwoman Gets Caught

The Hitwoman VS the Training Schedule

The Hitwoman VS the Embezzler

The Hitwoman Spirals

The Hitwoman’s Reunion

The Hitwoman’s Knight Fight

The Hitwoman's Evil Ex

The Hitwoman and The Jailbreak

The Hitwoman and the Missing Date

The Hitwoman and the Missing Mobster

A Kiki Long Mystery

Oh, Shoot!

Shoot First, Ask Questions Later

Shoot The Moon

The Cat, The Witch, and the Dead Dude

Thankful, Grateful, Busted

And don't miss the Psychic Consignment Mystery series

One Woman’s Junk

Gently Used, Still Works

Another Woman’s Treasure

Something Old, Something New

Cursed Chicks Club

Once Cursed, Twice Shy

2 Spells Too Many

3 Times A Charm

Mind Your Own Magical Beesness

4 Wonky Jinxes

A Matchmaker Mystery

The Mutt and the Matchmaker

A Match Made in Mystery

Catnapped!

A Woof in Sheep’s Clothing

About JB Lynn

Author of the never-ending Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman series, JB Lynn (you can call her Jen) is a Jersey girl, who was transplanted in Florida for a while and is now putting down roots in North Carolina. When not dabbling with paints, taking photos and exploring the mountains with her rescue mutt, she writes the Kiki Long Mysteries, the Psychic Consignment Mysteries and the Cursed Chick Club series because she’s got a soft spot for hijinks, humor, and heart.

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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to others. If you’d like to share this book (and the author hopes you’ll want to), please purchase an additional copy for each person. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at jb@jblynn.com.

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For more info about my books, visit:

http://www.jblynn.com

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