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an outfit she'd found at Goodwill, glasses from Eckerd's Drugs, and a wig her mother had bought her when she played Snow White in her seventh grade class production. Her one fling with fame—but not her last!
    She shoved the oversized, brown-rimmed reading glasses back onto the bridge of her nose and stared at the apartment building directly across the street. It came into focus at one and a half times its normal size. What a majestic building—so big —and all glass, gold and steel with lush potted plants.
    Guarding the entrance was a gray-suited, white-gloved doorman. White gloves? Where did he buy them? Through a supply catalog for doormen? They left such ordinary fiber evidence.
    She brushed the wiry black curls of her wig off her shoulder and sighed. So here she was in Atlanta on a Wednesday morning, and there, across the street, was the apartment building that Penney Richmond lived in. And behind her—behind her was the vacant lot. She'd have to devise some other plan to get into Penney's building.
    Jennifer tugged at the towel she had belted beneath her shapeless dress to provide some girth and pushed the loosely knit sleeves of her mud-colored cardigan up to her skinny elbows. Enough of this dillydallying. It was time to get to work, time to cross the street, time to case the joint.
    She joined the crowd as it swept her the fifty feet to the stoplight and the crosswalk. The light turned red. Four cars rushed through the intersection as the little walking man in the crossing light replaced the red hand. He tried to lure her into the street, but she was too savvy for him. She'd been to Atlanta before, and she knew better.
    Without warning, the crowd surged forward, buoying Jennifer and depositing her on the opposite corner. Whoa! Managing curbs that were one and a half times lower than they appeared was not an easy task. She had to have a moment to steady herself.
    Suddenly she felt an overwhelming need for caffeine. She preferred her caffeine in the form of chocolate—lots of chocolate, the dark semi-sweet kind—but coffee would do in a crunch, and floating in her direction, mixing with the stench of gasoline, was the unmistakable aroma of coffee laced with vanilla and almonds. She sniffed the air. The odor seemed to be wafting from an establishment directly in front of her.
    Jennifer tugged open the heavy wooden door of the café and slipped inside. A woman in a long, loose-fitting floral dress was filling honey jars behind a counter. Jennifer settled herself onto one of the bar stools. The woman shoved the jar aside and licked her index finger before wiping her hands on a towel.
    "What'll you have?" she asked. "We've got some wonderful herbal teas," she suggested, eyeing the bulge under Jennifer's dress.
    Jennifer looked down at the roundness the towel was creating. "Oh, no, I'm not… Just make it coffee—strong coffee with lots of caffeine and some kind of chocolate flavor if you've got it."
    What rotten luck! She'd tried to leave all thoughts of Jaimie at home. She didn't want him/her/whatever mixed up in this mess with Penney Richmond.
    "Mint is the day's chocolate flavor," the woman explained. "Will that do?"
    "Just fine."
    The woman plopped a large mug of fragrant coffee in front of her. "Honey and cream are right in front of you. That'll be a buck fifty."
    Jennifer handed her the money and carried her cup to a small window table where she could watch the crowds as they walked down Penney Richmond's street. Jolene Arizona would have no trouble getting into that apartment building. Jolene would sleep with the doorman. But then Jolene slept with everybody. What a disgusting thought. After all, she had Jaimie to think of, an example to set for her child-to-be.
    What kind of example was murder?
    "How far along are you, honey?"
    The words seemed to float up from nowhere.
    "When are you due?"
    Jennifer turned, and in the shadow of a tall, wooden booth she could detect the outline of a tiny, fragile woman. Her