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wasting part of his day.
    “We broke you out of jail!” I cried, surprised.
    “I didn’t ask you to!” he retorted. “And you better finish cleaning up this mess. I do not want to be rearrested here.”
    I made a face at his back as he stalked up to his house. “Can you believe that?” I asked.
    Cecily had a hungry look as she watched him close the door behind him. “You can never trust a witch,” she repeated.

Chapter Five:
Fixing the Memories
    As much as I hated to admit it, Pravus was right. We did still have a bunch of work to do. The detectives who worked on the case would have to have their memories adjusted. Otherwise they might start to wonder where their prime suspect, whom they had locked behind bars, had gotten off to. That would lead to all sorts of questions. The sorts of questions that it was our job as Guardians to prevent.
    “Where’s that printout from the police station?” I asked.
    “Here you go,” Cecily handed it up to Sarah.
    She took it and perused it quickly. She typed a few addresses into the GPS and then spoke, “Okay. I think we can hit the two homicide cops at home and then we’ll have to figure out where the other two cops are on patrol.” She tapped the paper, “Both these guys live pretty close.”
    I pulled back onto the street. I was getting really tired of being in the car. I wished that I really was on a girl retreat with Sarah. Lying by a pool, sipping a frozen beverage, working on my tan. I needed a break. I would have to pretend to be all relaxed and refreshed when I got home, when really this trip was shooting my stress level through the roof. I used to think that being a stay-at-home mom was tough, now I longed for the days when all I had to worry about was who hit whom, or who had the toy first. Not to mention the guilt. I had to keep on lying to Mark. It was for the best. But if it was for the best why did I feel like such a scumbag?
    “Earth to Piper; come in please,” Sarah broke into my reverie.
    “What?”
    “You missed the turn.” The GPS was showing me where to turn around and get back on route.
    “Sorry.”
    “What were you thinking of?” Cecily wanted to know.
    I sighed. “I just love this job so much. The hours, the people, the wonderful crime scene photos we get to look at. It’s a dream come true.”
    Sarah snickered.
    The GPS announced that we had arrived at our destination. Another cookie-cutter house in a cookie-cutter subdivision. I could have been a few streets over from my own house. I was reminded of that movie with Salma Hayek where she lives in a neighborhood where all the houses look the same but she paints hers in crazy southwestern colors. Why did we all live in look-alike houses? Oh, yeah, because custom homes were way more expensive.
    Cecily got out first. Her skirt and blouse still looked fresh and clean even after being out in the rain. I felt more like a partially drowned rat. The rain had soaked Sarah’s clothes as well and made her t-shirt almost see-through. I gritted my teeth and refrained from any rude comments about her appearance.
    They followed me up the front walk and I had a troubling thought. Why were they acting like I was in charge? Shouldn’t Cecily be in charge? She was older, faster, and scarier. I wasn’t sure I like being the one who gave the orders. They both stopped in front of the door and waited for me to knock. Good grief. I did not want this responsibility.
    I knocked on the door when it became apparent that neither Cecily nor Sarah was going to do it. A plain woman in cutoff-shorts and a t-shirt answered.
    “Yes?” she asked.
    I looked down at the computer printout in my hand. “Does Detective Rodriguez live here?” I asked.
    “Yes,” she said again.
    “May we speak with him?”
    “What is this regarding?” she wanted to know.
    I tried my fake smile again, “We have a few questions regarding one of the cases he is working on.”
    “I’m sorry,” she smiled just as fake-ly back. “This is