Kevin was on duty today. Tall, lanky, and painfully thin, the twenty-year-old had spiked black hair and almond-shaped eyes. He was Henry’s best friend. His smile put her in a much better mood.

“Looking awful good today, Regan,” he said after giving her a quick once-over. “That fitted suit sure accents your…”

She raised an eyebrow. “My what?”

“Curves,” he whispered, and had the good grace to blush.

Before she could answer, he leaned over the podium to look at her shoes. “Hey, are those Jimmy Choo?”

She laughed. “What do you know about Jimmy Choo shoes?”

“Not from nothing,” he admitted. “But my girlfriend lusts after them, so I figured, you being so classy and all, you’d have a couple hundred pair.”

“Kevin, I don’t have a couple hundred anything, and no, these aren’t Jimmy Choo shoes. Is that a new earring?”

He nodded. “Carrie gave it to me for our six-month anniversary. Dad hates it, but he’s so happy about my grades he isn’t making a big deal about it. Carrie’s trying to talk Henry into getting one too.”

Kevin noticed Mr. Laggia, the owner, heading their way. “Uh-oh,” he whispered. “Here comes Laggia. Be sure to rave about the ferns. The guy’s obsessing about them.”

Regan smiled as the owner approached. “I love what you’ve done with the place, Mr. Laggia. Those ferns are wonderful.”

He beamed with pleasure. “You noticed?”

How could she not notice? They were everywhere. “Oh, yes,” she said.

“You don’t think it’s too… jungle?”

“No, no, of course not.”

The restaurant did have a bit of a jungle theme going, but it wasn’t overwhelming, and the ferns above each booth gave the customers the feeling of being in a private room.

“How many today?” Kevin asked.

“Three,” she answered. “Sophie made the reservation for twelve-thirty. I’m a little early.”

“Show her to section four,” Laggia said. “I’ve just put in some ficus. They’re quite robust.”

Kevin stood behind the squat man, rolling his eyes and grinning. He showed her to a booth that was completely surrounded by ficus and palms and ferns. Cordie and Sophie were both late. Regan sipped Sprite, hoping to settle her stomach, and she was actually beginning to relax when, lo and behold, in walked another disgusting couple. Regan tried to think positive. Maybe the gray-haired gentleman was the girl’s father or grandfather. When Kevin led them past her booth, she noticed the old man’s hand moved down the girl’s spine. Was he fondling her or guiding her?

Regan knew she was obsessing now but didn’t care. She was determined to find out if the overly endowed girl was the man’s grandchild or girlfriend. She leaned out ever so slightly and tracked them as they turned the corner. She tilted farther and farther to watch them. She lost her balance and would have landed on the floor if she hadn’t grabbed hold of the edge of the table.

She felt like a fool. She sat up straight, adjusted the white tablecloth she’d nearly ripped off the table, and sat back. Let it go, she told herself. Just let it go.

She could just see the top of the man’s head. She had to know, and so she got up on one knee to watch the pair, but the leafy plants that lined the top of the booth were in her way. She parted the springy leaves. One got loose and smacked her in the face. She wasn’t deterred. She spotted the girl sliding into a booth on the far side of the restaurant. The old man didn’t sit across from her. Regan pushed the leaves farther apart just in time to see him slip into the booth next to the girl. Kevin handed each one a menu. He hadn’t even turned to go back to his station before the old man put his arm around the girl’s shoulders, leaned down, and kissed her.

“Lecher,” she whispered.

“Doing a little gardening?”

Regan jumped at the sound of Sophie’s voice. She hastily let go of the fern, dodged another leafy ficus branch, and sat down.

“You’re late.”

Sophie ignored the criticism. “What were you doing? Looking at a gorgeous man, I hope.”

“Sorry, no. I was watching another sleazebag.”

“So you’re still doing that, huh?”

Regan nodded. “I can’t seem to help myself. Honest to heaven, they’re everywhere.”

Sophie laughed. Regan thought she looked like a young teenager. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and her cheeks were flushed from running. Sophie ran everywhere because she was usually late. She looked lovely today, but then she always did. “Is that a new blouse? I like it.”

“I wear too much pink,” Sophie said. “But I saw this and I just had to have it.”

The waiter appeared at the table and took Sophie’s drink order.

Regan turned toward the entrance of the restaurant and said, “I can’t believe you beat Cordie here. I wonder what’s keeping her. She’s never late.”

“I told her she didn’t need to be here until one or a quarter of,” she said.

The waiter had returned with a tall glass of iced tea. Sophie immediately grabbed three sugar packets and dumped the contents into the glass.

“Why did you tell her-”

“She already knows what I want to talk to you about. I dragged her into this a good month ago, but I didn’t want to bother you because you were doing so much traveling back then.”

“I just went to Rome.”

“Excuse me. Before Rome you were in Houston and Miami and…”

“L.A.,” she supplied. “I guess I have done a lot of traveling in the last two months. So tell me. What’s the ‘this’ you dragged Cordie into?”

“The plan.”

She’d used the word with relish, and Regan saw a gleam in her eyes.

“You’re sounding awfully earnest, Sophie. So, tell me about the plan” she added, exaggerating the words.

“Don’t mock me.”

Regan put a hand up. “I’m not mocking you. I swear it on your iced tea.”

The waiter had heard “iced tea,” and a few seconds later a tall glass was placed before Regan. She didn’t tell the eager man she didn’t want it. She thanked him instead.

Sophie folded her hands. “To begin with, the plans have changed for this evening.”

“We aren’t going to dinner?”

“Yes, of course we’re going to dinner. Cordie already made the reservations. We’re going to a reception first.” She turned to her purse and pulled out a wad of folded papers and placed them on the table.

“What are those?”

“I’ll explain in a minute.”

“Okay. Then tell me about the reception.”

Sophie was frowning at a group of businessmen seated at a long table adjacent to them.

“What’s wrong?”

“Those men are staring at you.”

“They aren’t staring at me. They’re staring at you,” Regan said. “Just ignore them.”

“The one on the end is really quite cute.”

Regan didn’t look. “Tell me about the reception.”

Sophie finally gave Regan her full attention. “It’s for the men and women who register early for the weekend seminar we’re all going to attend.”

She’d blurted it all out and then gave Regan her brightest smile. It didn’t work.

“Can’t do it.”

“Sure you can. You’re all stressed out from the trip to Rome, and having to be in the same room with your sleazebag stepfather-to borrow your opinion of the man. This is something completely different and… noble. Yes, what we’re going to do is noble.”

“How noble?”

Sophie leaned forward. In a whisper she said, “We’re going to catch a murderer.”