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chicken.”
    “It’s not about the chicken, Charlotte. It’s about you living a normal life without murders in it.”
    “I’m trying. These are my clients, and they, well, she brought it up.”
    “And you should let it go.”
    “Trust me, there’s nothing I’d like better. And I think I can. Anabel’s father said there was nothing odd in the way she died. He thinks this is the form that Lorelei’s grief is taking. What I have to do is get enough information to reassure her.”
    “Must be awful for the parents.”
    “The pits. Anyway, I had already decided that there was nothing to it. A grief-stricken mother seeking answers, although there’s nothing high-strung about Lorelei. So I asked Pepper what she thought.”
    “You saw Pepper? And the little dude?”
    “Yes, today and—”
    “Did you ever see a baby so cute?”
    Here’s where I was in an awkward moment. I don’t mind babies. But I am not captivated by them. For one thing, they all look alike. Give me a toddler any day. Naturally, I would have cut out my tongue before I admitted this.
    I tried a neutral comment. “He’s cute all right.”
    “Unbelievable,” Jack said.
    I upgraded my end of the conversation to say something sincere. “Pepper wanted that baby so much. She seems happy.”
    “Who wouldn’t be?” Jack said.
    Well, I for one wouldn’t be. Particularly if Nick the Stick came as part of the package. I felt a chill. Better to let it go. The thing was, of all my baby-crazy friends, Jack turned out to have the worst case. I’d learned to change the subject, early and often.
    “I figured Pepper would be in the know, and sure enough, she had even been to the funeral.”
    “So was I,” Jack said. “St. Jude’s was overflowing. Everyone liked Anabel.”
    “And Pepper said to her knowledge there was nothing untoward about her death. Tragic, but an accident.”
    “That’s good.”
    “It was. I need to know how to deal with Lorelei. Harry seems to humor her. Maybe I need to, too, but if she’s going to badger me to do something about this death, then—”
    Jack’s level blue eyes met mine. “Then you tell her you’re not going to. Period. No arguments.”
    “My plan exactly, perhaps stated with a bit more tact, considering this is a grieving mother.”
    “Excellent,” Jack said. “Are you finished eating?”
    “No! I told you to take the leftover chicken, but I still want the rest of my meal.”
    “I’m just asking.”
    “And I’m just saying no. With an exclamation mark. Maybe two.”
    Jack shrugged, resigned to not getting the rest of my food.
    We both knew that he doesn’t give up that easily.
    I said, “So it was all good until Nick came home, in the middle of a shift.”
    “I thought Pepper realized that you don’t have designs on her sleazy husband.”
    “She does, but that’s not the issue.”
    “Let me guess. It has to do with Anabel.”
    “Got it in one, Jacko. Nick was on the scene immediately after, and he’d thought there was something not quite right about the whole thing. But then he realized it was an accident. Of course, he’s having nightmares.”
    “But Charlotte—”
    “So before I go back to see Lorelei and her exploding closets, I should get a third opinion. A tiebreaker. Someone neutral. And knowledgeable.”
    “You mean a cop?”
    “Makes sense, no?”
    “Like the guy with the silky shirts? And the creepy eyes?”
    “They’re not creepy. They’re just icy blue.”
    “Like from a horror movie. Bad idea to talk to him, Charlotte.”
    “I thought you might come with me.”
    Jack’s jaw dropped.
    I said, “I gave you the General Tso’s chicken. You can have all the leftovers. Everything. All I want is one fortune cookie.”
    My fortune cookie said, Everything is not as it seems .
    Jack’s said, Beware a tall man .

    Mondays are busy. I always try to hit the week running, so I was up early. As it seemed to be closet season all over Woodbridge, I had three potential closet