“We are lucky,” Regan agreed. “And all it takes is one person watching the show who saw something…”

When Brianne and Pauly arrived a few minutes later, they were all immediately ushered into the studio. Regan and Brianne joined Patrick and Jeannie in the same area of the studio where they’d had their earlier chat. The two seats Alfred and Charisse occupied had been removed.

Like musical chairs, Regan thought.

This time the interview had a different tone. Jeannie introduced the segment, recapping the whole story for the audience. They showed a clip of the earlier interview, then they replayed the video of Regan tackling one of the April Brides. “Thanks to one of our viewers who called in this morning after our interview with Regan and Brianne, she was caught,” Jeannie said with a smile. “Regan and Brianne have joined us again, but unfortunately it’s because of another twist in the story of these brides.” She turned to Patrick who explained to the audience Brianne’s connection to the missing Joyce.

“The fact that she didn’t make it home last night was a worry to her friends. But when her purse was found this morning on a street downtown, the situation became much more serious.” Patrick sighed and turned to Brianne. “When did you last see Joyce?”

“We were all at Club Zee downtown. Joyce got up from the table, presumably to go to the ladies’ room. It was about 11 o’clock. She hadn’t been there that long. The deejay had just played Julio Iglesias’s ‘To All the Girls I’ve Loved Before.’ We all sang along and then started joking around about loser ex-boyfriends.”

Jeannie made a face. “Now there’s a topic we could spend hours on.”

Patrick looked at her. “Heyyyy-I feel as if I should defend the guys out there in our viewing audience.”

“It was just in fun,” Brianne explained. “It was my bachelorette party. I had finally found the right one to marry, my wonderful Pauly Sanders, and my friends were teasing me about a couple guys I’d gone out with.” Brianne smiled. “Listen, I know Pauly has had some horrible relationships. He told me about every one of them in great detail. He said he never went out with anyone who wasn’t a loser until he met me.”

In the corner of the studio, Pauly almost fainted.

“Do you think this discussion about bad relationships might have upset Joyce?” Patrick asked.

“I don’t know,” Brianne said. “She got up from the table and that was the last any of us saw of her.”

They showed Joyce’s smiling face on the screen. She looked so happy holding the black-and-white puppy.

Jeannie looked at Regan. “We understand that Joyce’s boyfriend is out of town. He must be upset.”

“Apparently so,” Regan said evasively.

“And you have a search party that’s meeting down at Club Zee.”

“Right after this interview, we’re going straight there. We’ll put up Joyce’s picture all over the neighborhood. We’ll talk to people and ask if anyone saw Joyce or noticed anything unusual last night. I can’t stress enough that we need help in finding her. People should call in with any information they have, no matter how insignificant it seems.”

“Okay, then,” Jeannie said. She turned to the camera. “If anyone in the New York area would like to join the search party, I’m sure you’d be most welcome. And if you do have any information, please call this number…”

When the interview was over, Regan and Brianne walked over to rejoin the rest of their group.

“Where did Pauly go?” Brianne asked.

“He said he’d meet you down in the lobby,” Jack answered. “He was sweating and said he needed some air.”

Brianne was out the door in a shot.

“Cindy, you don’t look so well either,” Regan said.

Cindy shook her head. “I’m just thinking about Joyce. I’m not surprised if talk of loser ex-boyfriends upset Joyce. Her problem is that she is still with someone who should be her ex. And he hasn’t even had the decency to call me back. Where could he be? I’m beginning to think maybe he did have something to do with this.”

“We’ll find out,” Regan assured her.

“They’re checking Joyce’s cell phone records,” Jack told Cindy. “But even if he isn’t involved, he doesn’t sound like such a swell guy.”

“He’s not. He let his unemployed friend park himself on Joyce’s couch for the last three months. When we get Joyce back…” Cindy’s mouth started to tremble, “when we get Joyce back, I’m going to help her throw both of those losers’ belongings out into the street.”

54

A tired and bored Phoebe Muller was babysitting at her next-door neighbor’s apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Sixteen years old, she’d been out late with a bunch of kids the night before and was grateful that the rambunctious two-year-old in her care had just gone down for a nap.

Settling on the couch, she pulled her school books out of her all-purpose bag. Always a multitasker, she then picked up the remote control and flicked on the television. Phoebe wanted to watch that new weekend cable show while she did her homework. Patrick and Jeannie were cool.

As she watched the segment about the missing Joyce, she started to come to life. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Like…oh, my God! she thought. Could it be?

Last night her group had gone to the movies and then to a diner. They’d walked past the popular Club Zee and looked longingly at the people being admitted.

“We’ve got to get some fake IDs, man,” Dirk had said as they ambled along. “I don’t want to wait another five years to go to Club Zee!” A few blocks later, on a small side street, he had spotted a little black purse on the ground and picked it up. He fished out the eighty dollars cash, stuck it in his pocket, then looked at the driver’s license inside.

“Thanks, Joyce,” he’d said, before dropping the license back inside.

“We should turn the purse and money in to the police,” Phoebe had said.

“Goody Two-shoes,” Dirk had said derisively, throwing the purse at one of his friends, and they’d run down the street playing catch with it. Several blocks later, Dirk tossed the small black bag on the ground between two cars.

Phoebe knew there was no fighting with Dirk. And she didn’t want to give the purse to the police with the money gone. She hoped Joyce would somehow get the purse back anyway.

But now someone named Joyce was missing. It must be the same person, Phoebe thought, and it might help the police if they knew where her purse had been before Dirk moved it. Phoebe realized she couldn’t call the police from her cell phone or from the Darbers’ phone. They’d be able to trace the call easily, and she didn’t want to give her name. The baby was asleep, so she couldn’t go out and use a pay phone.

Maybe I should just forget it, she thought. Chances are it won’t make a difference. But as she tried to concentrate on her homework, Phoebe couldn’t stop thinking about the missing Joyce.