By the time Bernie got outside, Joanna was already in her car.

"Wait!" she cried as Joanna started up her Miata.

Joanna turned and stared at her.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"That guy you were talking to in there?" Bernie said.

"What about him?" Joanna asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Who is he?"

"Why do you want to know?" Joanna demanded.

There was something in Joanna's face that made Bernie think she didn't wish Rick Crouse well.

"I'm here to repo his car," Bernie said.

"Funny," Joanna said. "Are you adding that to your catering as a sideline?"

"Exactly," Bernie said. "Cook by day, detective/repo woman by night."

Joanna laughed. "I'd love to see my ex's car towed away."

"You were married to him?"

"Yeah. I lent him thirty thousand dollars so he could buy into a Pita Pit franchise with it. You know what that son of a b.i.t.c.h did? I'll tell you what he did. He ran off to New York with it. To study acting..." Joanna practically spit the word out. "He told me he doesn't have to repay me because he considers the money an investment in himself. He calls himself the business. I may barf."

"He's not very good," Bernie observed.

"Good?" Joanna let out a hoa.r.s.e laugh. "Good? He's terrible. But he's convinced he's Oscar material."

"Well, he is good-looking. That always counts for a lot."

"Hah. You should have seen him before. To be fair, he wasn't bad before, but now he's fantastic, the lowlife sleaze. That's actually where my thirty thousand went. Or most of it. He used it to get cosmetic surgery. That cleft chin? Fake. The cheekbones? Fake. Those blue eyes? Contact lenses. The teeth? Veneers. And then Annabel, bless her heart, paid for his chest implants."

"Why would she do that?" Bernie asked, feigning ignorance.

Joanna snorted. "Why do you think? Because they were sleeping together, of course. She was such a b.i.t.c.h. She always had to have everything I had. So naturally she had to have Rick."

"Which is why you started sleeping with Richard?" Bernie asked. If she had expected a denial she didn't get one.

"Fair is fair. No one walks all over me." Joanna pointed to her b.o.o.bs. "Rick got his chest implants and I got these. In retrospect, I should have gotten them a little smaller, but I wanted something that showed."

"Well, they certainly do that," Bernie said. "I guess Richard liked them."

"He said they were a little ostentatious-those were his exact words. I told him to go screw himself and I cut him off. 'No more s.e.x for you,' I said. Not that he really cared."

"Why wouldn't he care?" In Bernie's experience, that was all a lot of men cared about.

"Because he was already sleeping with Melissa. I just beat him to it."

"To Melissa?"

Joanna rolled her eyes. "To kissing me off. If Richard had really cared about the s.e.x thing I would have lost my job. But he didn't, so I'm still here."

The expression "can't keep the players straight without a scorecard" popped into Bernie's mind.

"Richard always has two women in the pipeline," Joanna continued. "Sometimes even three. Though frankly, between you and me, I think three's too many for him to handle."

"Has he always been like that?" Bernie asked.

"As far as I know. Now they're calling people like him s.e.x addicts. I just call people like that pigs."

"Did Annabel know?"

Joanna snorted. "You bet she did. How could she not? He practically flaunted it in her face. Her friends, the women who worked for Annabel-everyone was fair game. I mean, I felt sorry for her before she started messing around with Rick. Having to put up with Richard's stuff. And she was the brains of the outfit too." She added, "I'll tell you one thing, I didn't kill Annabel, but I'm glad someone did. She had it coming. And it wouldn't surprise me at all if Rick had something to do with it."

"What makes you say that?" Bernie asked.

Joanna leaned her head out of the car. "Because he was scamming her like he was scamming everyone else, and she'd just found out. So no more money, honey."

And with that last comment, Joanna took off. As Bernie watched the receding headlights of her vehicle, she wondered how much of what Joanna had just told her was true. A second later there was a sharp screech as Joanna threw her car in reverse and started backing up. Bernie jumped out of the way as Joanna squealed to a stop in front of her.

She stuck her head out of the window again and said, "I'd talk to Annabel's best friend, Joyce, if I were you."

"The reason being?" Bernie asked.

"Because she's a best friend with a caveat."

"Why are you telling me this?" Bernie asked her.

"As they say, payback is a b.i.t.c.h. She's the one who introduced Rick to Annabel. She's the one who told Rick that maybe Annabel would help him with his acting career." She imitated Joyce's voice: "I was just trying to help. Trying to help." Then she said, "Ha!" as she put the car in first and zoomed off into the night.

Chapter 14.

Bernie was still thinking about what Joanna had told her when Libby tapped her on the shoulder. Bernie spun around.

Libby pointed to Marvin's jaw.

Bernie put her hand over her mouth. "What happened?" she asked.

"Rick Crouse happened," Libby said. "He found out that Marvin wasn't a talent agent after all."

"He punched me in the jaw," Marvin told her. "I hope it was worth it," he added plaintively.

Poor Marvin, Bernie thought. He was always so cautious, but it didn't matter. Things just happened to him. If there was a brick nearby it would fall on his head. Not, she was sure, that Libby would see the current situation that way. Bernie lightly patted the uninjured side of Marvin's face. "You know, you look very hot this way," she said as she tried to cheer him up. "Almost irresistible in fact."

"I do?" Marvin said, throwing his shoulders back.

Bernie nodded. "Absolutely. Men with bruises always are. Right, Libby?" she asked. "Right?" she repeated when her sister remained silent.

"Right," Libby answered through gritted teeth.

But she had to admit that Marvin had perked up when Bernie had said that to him. However, that still wasn't going to prevent her from wringing her sister's neck the first chance she got.

"Where is Rick Crouse now?" Bernie asked.

"Back in the bar," Libby said. "Drinking a beer."

"The bartender didn't even call the police," Marvin complained. "He could at least have done that."

"Was there blood?" Bernie asked.

"No," Marvin said.

"Did it spill over onto anyone else?"

Marvin looked puzzled.

"Start a brawl," Bernie explained.

"No."

"Then there you go," Bernie told him. "At Leon's unless there's a fair amount of blood on the walls, a body on the floor, or five people breaking chairs over people's heads, the bartender isn't going to call the cops. And even then it might not happen."

Marvin gingerly touched his jaw, then wiggled it around a little. "You know, this is the first time in my life I've ever been punched," he admitted.

"Seriously?" Libby asked.

Marvin nodded.

"See," Bernie said, thinking of Brandon, who'd made a career for a while out of brawling. "Then this is a good thing. It adds to your cool-dude factor. Trust me. You're going to thank me later on."

Marvin looked dubious. "Thank you for this? I don't think so."

Bernie raised her hand. "I promise. You'll see."

Libby just shook her head. Where Bernie came up with this stuff she'd never know. But, on the other hand, you did have to admire her gall. She would give her that.

Bernie thought for a moment. "I'll tell you what," she said. "You take Marvin home and get an ice pack on his jaw. I'll go back inside, talk to Rick, and see what I can find out. When I'm done I'll call and you can come pick me up."

Libby nodded. That would work, she thought, since her main concern right now was keeping the swelling on Marvin's jaw down as much as possible.

"I'll drive," she said to Marvin as she took his arm and started leading him toward the car.

"You know," he said, "I have two funerals tomorrow. How am I going to explain my jaw?"

"No problem," Libby said with more confidence than she felt. "We'll come up with a really good story."

"Well, whatever you do, don't ask Bernie for one," Bernie heard Marvin say to her sister.

"I won't," Libby replied.

When Bernie walked into Leon's, Rick Crouse and Priscilla Edwards were sitting at the bar sipping their beers and watching TV. She went to the booth where she, Marvin, and Libby had been sitting, reclaimed her jacket, got her can of Bud Light, then walked up to Rick and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Yes?" he said, keeping his eyes glued to the TV.

Bernie waved her hand in front of his face. "h.e.l.lo," she said. "Don't you know it's rude to ignore people?"

He reluctantly turned to face her. "And it's rude to wave your hand in front of someone's face. What do you want?"

"I want to know why you punched my friend."

"That guy was your friend?"

"That's what I just said, didn't I?"

He gave Bernie his full attention. "Girls in stiletto heels shouldn't go causing trouble."

"I'm not causing trouble. I'm asking you a question."

Rick took a gulp of his beer and put the can back down. "Not that it's any of your business, but I clocked him one because he lied to me. That's why."

"You punch everyone who lies to you?" Bernie asked him.

"No, I don't," he replied. "Okay. I admit I lost control of myself, but this was different. He deserved it."

"Different how?"

"Because..."

But before Rick could finish his sentence Priscilla Edwards leaned forward and finished it for him. "Rick was really excited about meeting the agent. It was all he was talking about backstage. So when he found out that this guy Marvin was shining him on he just got a little carried away, that's all. Heaven only knows what would have happened if I hadn't been along. Poor Rick would have never known."

"That's right," Rick said. He pounded the bar. "That's exactly right."

Priscilla patted his arm in a proprietary manner. Rick favored her with a grateful smile.

"I see," Bernie said. And she did. She put her can of beer down. It was bad enough when it was cold, but it was undrinkable when it was warm. "You know, I was the one who suggested Marvin do that. I was the one who told Sam. Marvin was just doing what I told him to do."