“Definitely.”

Dr. Van Ripper looked around. “You think this is the correct place for a young woman who had all your advantages to end up?”

Josie took a deep breath. Her red hair began to become slightly static; people who knew her would be aware of her rising anger. “Yes, I do. I am a hard worker. I am successful. I have a useful trade and I use it to help people. I am proud of what I do and I believe that anyone would be. Including my family.” The last words came out of her mouth before she had thought them through. But she heard them and realized, surprised, that they might possibly be true. “This is an excellent place for a young woman who was brought up with many advantages to end up,” she concluded, smiling sincerely.

The librarian seemed startled. “Well, perhaps.”

“But let’s get back to Courtney. Did she talk to you about her personal life?”

“You mean men?”

“Yes.”

“No. Of course, I knew she had many admirers, many, many admirers, but she didn’t talk about them. We usually discussed her career.”

Josie frowned. “Do you know a lot about television?”

“Well, no, but I am very interested in the subject, and my sister happens to be very involved in charitable work, and the foundation she runs is a major donor of funds for public television.”

Bingo! She’d known it. Courtney was not the type of person to stay in touch with an elderly librarian just for old times’ sake. She had gotten Naomi Van Ripper to do much of her high school research many years ago. And she had used her-or her connection to her sister-to move up in public television. Suddenly, Josie felt tired and old and, above all, deeply sad. She folded the wrapping over the remainder of her sandwich and got up. “I’m glad we could talk, but I have to get back to work.”

“I hope, Josie, that I have given you something to think about. Perhaps you should reconsider some of your decisions. Your parents are getting old. And there might be other people in town who would be happy to see you.”

“You’ve given me a lot to think about,” Josie replied seriously and honestly. “Thank you very much.”

“Well, I’m glad. I’ll be seeing you around. Courtney invited me to visit the set anytime I please.”

“Do that.” Without another word, Josie turned and walked out of the house, back to her crew.

Tyler was asleep on the couch when Josie entered her apartment. She looked down at him and smiled. He was beginning to grow a beard, but she could still see the little kid he had been. She sat down in the chair across from the couch. Urchin, Tyler’s little brown Burmese cat, jumped into her lap and the two of them stared at her son. After years of worrying about the consequences of raising him without any family other than herself, it was possible that she would present him with grandparents sometime in the near future. Would that make him happy? Improve his life? She had no idea. It was the same problem she’d had for the last seventeen years of motherhood. She never knew if her decisions were right, if what she was doing was good for her son.

She was still deciding whether or not to contact her parents when Tyler’s eyes opened and he smiled at her. “Hi. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I just got here,” Josie lied. “Have you had dinner?”

“No, and I’m starving.” He sat up and stretched. “Is there anything in the house?”

“I don’t know.” She got up and headed over to the refrigerator. The last time she had looked, this morning, there had been a half-gallon of milk, some diet soda, a quart of orange juice, and a full complement of all the things that seemed to grow in there: bottles of catsup and mustard and jars of mayonnaise, jam, and pancake syrup. If she had eggs, she could produce a cheese omelet. Or, perhaps, if that package of hot dogs hadn’t been consumed yet… She pulled open the door, ignoring the magnet and shopping list as they dropped to the floor. “What the…?”

A bright blue casserole sat on the top shelf.

“It’s that tortellini salad you like so much. Risa said she made extra.”

“I don’t know what we’d do without that woman,” Josie said honestly, pulling the casserole from the refrigerator.

“She also sent up bread and a bowl of those great burnt peppers.” Tyler got up and started opening drawers and grabbing silverware.

“She really takes care of us.” Josie glanced over at her son before she continued. “She’s almost like a member of the family, a relative.”

“What do you mean? She’s better than a relative. You and I don’t cook this well!” Tyler said.

Josie realized that his concept of family was limited to the two of them. What would happen if she expanded that concept? What would happen if, after all these years, she called home and explained her side of that last phone call? Her misunderstanding of her mother’s statements? She frowned.

But Tyler’s concerns were more immediate. “Hey, do you want orange juice, beer, milk, or diet soda?”

“Diet soda. Cream soda, if there is any. Or else…” She noticed the tiny flashing light on her answering machine as she spoke. “Did you check for messages when you came in?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. That Bobby Valentine called. He said he needed to speak with you. He said it was… uh, urgent.”

Josie glanced at her son. At least he had the grace to look embarrassed. “Urgent, hey?” She sighed. “Did he leave his number?”

“Yeah, it’s the first message. The second was from Sam. He said he was calling to say hello.”

Josie rolled her eyes. It seemed that dinner would have to wait.

Bobby Valentine hadn’t just insisted on talking to her. He had insisted on seeing her. Immediately. And he wouldn’t tell her why. Not, he had said, on the phone. He was in Courtney’s trailer. He needed to see her there. Immediately.

If he hadn’t sounded so worried, she would never have left home without eating. Now, banging on the aluminum door of the trailer, she regretted that decision. If it was so important that he see her, why wasn’t he answering the door?

“For heaven’s sake, shut up! Do you want everyone in the neighborhood to know we’re here?”

Well, if they hadn’t heard her banging, they probably got the point when she screamed. She would have made more noise if she hadn’t been grabbed from behind and pulled toward the darkened trailer.

“What the…?”

“Stop kicking me, damn it!”

The door fell open, smashing into the wall behind it, and Josie and Bobby Valentine fell into the trailer, crashing into furniture and landing in a tangle on the floor.

“Damn. Damn. Damn. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Me? You attacked me. You asked me to come here and then you attacked me from behind!” Josie rolled away from him as she spoke. “Turn on the lights and tell me why I’m here before I call the police!”

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.” Bobby Valentine scrambled to his feet and, ignoring his own injunctions about silence, slammed the door, and switched on the overhead light. “Look, damn it! Look!”

He pointed.

She looked. And looked again. “What the hell is that?”

“Courtney…”

“It’s not Courtney.” Josie walked across the floor to the exercise bike. “It’s a wig. Courtney wore a wig?”

He walked over to the mirrored wall and pressed a tiny button she hadn’t noticed before. A door sprang open and a hidden shelf appeared. Three wig stands stood on it. Two had identical Courtney pageboys. One was bald. The third wig was sitting on the seat of the exercise bike, not a strand of hair disturbed by the move.

“You called me here because one of Courtney’s wigs is out of place? I’m missing my dinner for hair?”

“Courtney is dead.”

Josie looked at him, walked over to the wig, and examined it. “There’s no blood on it.” She glanced around the room, relieved by what she didn’t see. “There’s no body.” She looked up at him. “Why do you think she’s dead? And why did you call me here to see this?” She wanted to add one more question. What did Bobby Valentine actually know?