The shoes had been stacked in a corner for separate consideration.

She kept talking. "I offer you Exhibit A. May I add that A stands for 'awful.' "

Wendy sputtered. "Awful? I told you I spent-"

"Whatever it was, you were robbed. For one thing, the color wouldn't suit you at all."

Yikes. I wasn't so sure I wanted Lilith with her piercings and teal blue hair and distinctly Goth vibe to be giving fashion advice to plump middle-aged motherly types.

"As Charlotte would say, trust me," Lilith said.

"I can't throw away all that money. It wasn't even that long ago. My best friend's third wedding."

"You wouldn't be getting rid of the friend," Lilith said. "Just the dress. Your husband will thank you."

Wendy threw back her head and howled with laughter. "He's glad to escape, if you ask me. You two terrify him. He'd back me up, but I'm not sure he has the guts."

"What does he do?" Lilith said.

"He's a paramedic. I think he wishes he was on duty today!"

"Well, he'd need those skills if you went anywhere public in this."

Luckily they were having fun. All it took was one look at the yellow horror with the ruffles to know that I'd be siding with Lilith on this issue, if I ever got a word in. But it was time to assert a bit of authority.

"You are way ahead of schedule. Why not grab the shoes and purse and everything that goes with it, Wendy, and try it on? See if you still love it in the cold light of day."

She raised her dusty chin. "I will love it. Two hundred bucks and worn once. Dry cleaned, too."

Five minutes later, she showed up. Lilith flopped on the bed and said, "I can't bear to look."

I bit my lip.

"What?" Wendy pretended to pout.

"Try the mirror," Lilith said.

Wendy slowly turned and stared at herself in the mirror.

Lilith didn't hold back. "It's like the reverse of the dream come true. You are like a giant grapefruit on steroids. A dancing-"

I don't know who collapsed laughing first, but soon the three of us were in a heap.

"Oh well," Wendy said when she caught her breath. "Now that I see myself, I can't believe that so-called friend talked me into buying this monstrosity. And I wore it in public!"

"Brides," Lilith intoned as if she had firsthand knowledge. "They like to be the center of attention. No bridesmaid is ever supposed to look good. That's their subtext. Don't let yourself be fooled again."

"Matron of honor!"

"Goes double," Lilith muttered.

Wendy sighed. "No wonder Brad wouldn't comment. I could try to sell it, but who in their right mind would buy it?"

I said, "Don't worry about that. If you're lucky you'll get twenty percent of the original value, but every forty dollars counts. The shoes and evening bag are keepers. Nice and neutral classics. You'll get to use them for years."

Shortly after, Wendy was back in her closet-cleaning gear and the monstrosity was lying in its protective zippered bag on the Sell pile.

"How does that feel?" I said.

"I'm surprised, but it feels good to send it packing. I didn't like it, of course, but all that money and the sentimental value. But of course, you've explained the politics of all that."

"When something's hard to get rid of, maybe it's an investment or sentimental object or it's you wanting to be a different size or a different age or in a different life, but the minute you decide to turf it, you can feel the weight lift off your shoulders."

"Yeah and I want the forty bucks, too. We're not through here yet."

The remaining items at issue-pants that were too tight, a gift sweater that was the wrong color, and a yoga top that clung like freezer wrap-all hit the Sell pile in a flash.

"And we're done with Phase 1," I said. "We can see the bed. I'll leave you two to sort the shoes, and I'll see you tomorrow to plan how we'll store your remaining clothing. Have a look at the pictures I left behind. Decide if you like things open and visible or closed off and neat. We're nearly finished."

Wendy gave me a big hug.

I said, "Lilith will cart away the toss and donate stuff. And if you want, I'll take the Sell pile to the consignment shop tomorrow. That will save you from having a midnight change of heart."

"I'll come tomorrow, too," Lilith said.

I glanced at her sharply. The hundred dollars wouldn't last much longer, even with me charging for portions of an hour and subtracting any minutes that I was eating, drinking, chatting, or laughing.

"No charge," Lilith added quickly. "I'll do it as a friend. Anyway, I haven't seen too much of Charlotte in action and I'd like to watch how she measures and helps you decide about storage."

Wendy gave her a mom-size hug. "I'd love it if you came over. We're great buddies."

Right, I thought. And Seth didn't have a thing to do with it.

Speaking of buddies, my cell phone vibrated angrily for the third time during that short conversation. I decided to take it.

Pepper.

What the hell was wrong now?

Whatever was troubling Pepper, she didn't respond. I sat in the Miata and thought about what to do next. Ever since Wendy had mentioned that her husband was a paramedic, I'd been wondering about what the emergency personnel might have observed on the scene when Anabel's body was found. I knew the police believed it was an accident, but, face facts, the best detective in Woodbridge was definitely Pepper and she was on leave with her baby at the time and pretty much obsessed with that baby. Her partner, Frank D'Angelo, was seconded to yet another task force, as well as being a distracted newlywed. They weren't exactly plugged into the pulse.

Tierney seemed sharp enough, but he was new to Woodbridge. And he wouldn't tell me even if he did think there was anything suspicious about Anabel's death. We didn't seem to have a trusting relationship. It couldn't hurt to have a chat with the paramedics, but I knew that Tierney would never tell me their names. Nick would know who the emergency workers had been. He'd been there early on. With Nick that couldn't be a good thing. No doubt he'd blundered all over the walkway, trampling evidence. It wouldn't have been the first time. Wendy's husband, Brad, might have known their names. I should have asked him when I'd had the chance. Maybe the next time I was there. I left another message for Pepper and headed home to catch up on my calls and clients, check e-mail and phone messages. Halfway there I made a U-turn and headed for Old Pine Street. I pulled up in front of Pepper and Nick's place. I peered into the garage window. Only Nick would have a window so he could admire his vehicles while mowing the lawn. Of course, the garage had the kind of security that the governor's mansion gets. Nick's Mustang and truck were still parked inside. I hoped I didn't set off any alarms by peeking in. Pepper's new Ford Edge was gone. No one answered the front door. Where were Pepper and Little Nick? Pepper was so overprotective. She'd never leave the baby with any mere mortal babysitter. Was she scouring town in her agitated state of mind looking for Nick?

I decided that my office duties could wait. It had been that kind of day. The advantage of keeping on top of my schedule as a general rule is flexibility when I need it. My friends usually roll their eyes if I mention that. Of course, with all the complications provided by the Beauchamps, Pepper, and Nick, I'd be seriously behind in no time. There are limits to flexibility.

Pepper was not at the Woodbridge Police Station, although I suppose it was a ridiculous idea to think she might have gone looking for Nick there. As all the squad cars look alike, I couldn't tell if Nick was there, either, though it must have been near the end of his shift. I straightened my blouse and checked my makeup in the rearview. I walked into the station with my head held high.

I asked the desk sergeant if I could speak with Officer Nick Monahan.

"Sure can."

"Thank you," I said with my warmest smile, secure in the knowledge that there was no lipstick on my teeth.

"Course you'll have to find him first."

"Everybody's a comedian," said a voice behind me. I turned to find Connor Tierney grinning.

"As long as they don't give up their day jobs first, I guess that's all right."

"Nicely put," he said. "Why do you want to talk to Nick?"

"Just saying hello."

"Try and remember that I'm the bad policeman with the good instincts and you're the lady who gets arrested. How many times is it now?"

"Never for asking if I could talk to someone, though. I see that the law-and-order approach is gaining ground in our town."

"Nick doesn't seem to be reachable."

"Crap," I said.

"Do you know anything about that?"

"No. Yes. Maybe I do. But not much. I wanted to discuss something with him, but I'll try again when he's not on patrol."

"How do you know he's out on patrol?"

I found myself biting my lip yet again. "I don't. But I did see him a couple of times this morning. I'm sure he's out patrolling diligently. Maybe he had a flat tire or something."

"Could be, and maybe that flat tire happened at the same time as he stopped responding to his radio."

The desk sergeant was grinning along with Tierney.

"I guess it's funny," I said. "I was a bit worried, but if you guys are practicing your stand-up comic routines, I'll head home to mind my own business."

Tierney caught up with me. "Don't take this the wrong way, but it's not like you to mind your own business."

"People change. I'm going home. I have a lot of work to do tonight."

"Work to do?"

"Yes. I-"

I couldn't believe it. Of course. Dinner! I had it written on my list, but the problem with Nick and Pepper and my lack of sleep and my worry about Lorelei had all driven it out of my mind. I was losing it. And that is so not like me.

"Until dinner, of course," I said. "And allowing time to get ready before."

"I thought maybe you might have forgotten."

"Ha. Are you kidding?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

"You look like you're annoyed."

"I'll see you tonight. I need you to promise me that there will be no meddling."

I was still having a bit of trouble making eye contact. I let my eyes stray behind him to a poster of police, firefighters, and paramedics. It was attractive and soothing. Made you feel safe looking at it. It didn't seem like the right time to ask Tierney if he knew the names of the paramedics who were first on the scene when Anabel Beauchamp died.

Pepper still wasn't answering. I sure hoped she didn't end up home with a cranky baby and an infantile husband on suspension. She was already on the edge. I thought if we misfits had to help out, there'd be a fight to see which of us got the baby, as a couple of hours consoling Pepper and Nick would seem a lot longer.

I glanced over my shoulder on the off chance that Tierney was behind me. On this crazy day when the police seemed to have nothing at all on their To Do lists, anything was possible. The coast was clear, so I veered off and retraced the route I had taken that morning when looking for Nick. He was a creature of habit. I tried the doughnut shops, the drive-thru coffee shops, the movie theaters, although that seemed unlikely. I even returned to Hank's. No Nick. No Pepper.

I glanced at my watch and reminded myself that an organized person has learned to deal with shifting priorities. I was and I had. So. New first priority: Find Nick. Where else would he hang out?

I even drove by my place, but neither Pepper nor Nick were parked in the driveway. I zipped along and down Long March Road to Jack's shop.

Jack was in the shop looking bemused. With his free hand he was spinning the wheels of two Italian bikes that were suspended from the ceiling.

"Guess what?" he said.

"Let me think. You're holding a baby?"

"Yeah. Of course, you're cheating since you can see him."

"Since I'm on a winning streak, I'll hazard another guess. Pepper left him with you?"

"She did. And the little dude and I have a great time playing with these excellent toys, whenever we get tired of the sock monkey and the ducky."

"Huh."

"Isn't that neat?"

"Sure is, Jack."

Little Nick squeezed his soft plush yellow duck and it squeaked.

Pepper is the ubermom. She wouldn't leave her baby with Jack, even if he is baby crazy, without a damn good reason. I mean it is, after all, a bike shop. Normally Nick wouldn't count as a good reason for such an out-of-character decision. It would have to be a crisis, such as last night's melt-down where she told me she was afraid Nick was mixed up in something dangerous. Had she confronted him again and learned that the danger was imminent?

11.

Don't give up on favorite items with small problems: An inexpensive sweater defuzzer can give new life to pilled sweaters, tops, and pants.