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I’d had before didn’t suit my lifestyle of today. I now had my sights set on a small-to-midsize SUV, one that didn’t guzzle too much gas. Maybe a hybrid. But till I made up my mind, I was paying for the rental, since my insurance had run out.

    On the way to the studio, which wasn’t far from CBS, I dropped Lexie off at Darryl’s, partly because I didn’t think she needed to participate in a pig audition. And also so I could sneak in and see my buddy Darryl again, maybe catch him off guard, get him to spill his guts and give up the name of his new girlfriend. But he was busy interviewing potential new employees, so though he waved through his office window, he didn’t step out to say hello.

    So I went to the studio somewhat miffed. But mostly a whole lot excited. Amazingly, Charlotte had already received a commitment from a notable cable network to air episodes starting with today’s. Almost live—taped this afternoon, and shown in a scheduled spot tonight. Tonight! They’d taken a chance on us getting a sponsor so fast, and now we had one—as soon as we executed the contract with Dante.

    Which had me wondering. Which came first? Had Dante engineered this exciting twist even as we were negotiating?

    There were several buildings on the SFV—San Fernando Valley—Studios lot. Our show was to be shot in the first. It was sexier than most I’d seen: three stories, with offices inside at the front and the rear converted into several smallish sound stages. One side of the frontmost sound stage contained stars’ dressing rooms. Fortunately, they were versatile, since at this moment the stars housed were of the porcine persuasion.

    Ten potbellied pigs were about to start their audition adventure. They’d been recruited fast, thanks to assistance from a local pig owners’ club. From what Avvie had told me about piggies, although they were pack animals of sorts, it sometimes took them a while to warm up to strangers of their own kind.

    Charlotte LaVerne, now the reality show maven of L.A., had dressed for her producer activities in a sleek and silky peach pantsuit. She held a clipboard in her hands, and the instant she saw me, she dashed over and gave me her usual effusive hug. “Oh, Kendra, I know we put this together quickly, but it’s going to be great! As long as . . . ?”

    I knew what she was inquiring about. “Yes, we’ve got a deal with Dante.”

    “Wonderful,” she squealed, and hugged me again. “They were asking.” She tilted her head toward some guys gabbing nearby who wore blue knit shirts with Nature Network logos. My surmise about Dante’s fixing this with the cable station was most likely correct.

    Of course, since Dante hadn’t yet arrived, we’d have to execute the agreement later. But apparently that hadn’t stopped him from setting everything up.

    My pet-sitting assistant, Rachel, was in attendance as well. She was less demonstrative but equally enthusiastic as she greeted me. “All the contestants are here,” she said. “So are the Hayhursts.” The Show Biz Beasts principals were to teach pet owners to train their charges to participate in scenarios created for this ambitious but potentially excellent reality show.

    I stuck my nose into a couple of dressing rooms and laughed at the large, adorable noses that seemed to study me as well. The pigs, primarily black, white, or a combo, appeared to be mostly belly and nose, although each also had interested eyes. And thin, wagging tails, though their nether appendages weren’t as expressive as doggy tails.

    At the third room, I stopped. And stared. There were two people inside, and two pigs. One of the people was someone I’d met up with often—perhaps more to his chagrin than mine.

    “Hi, Ned,” I said to Homicide Detective Ned Noralles of the LAPD. “What are you doing here?”

    “Kendra! I hoped I’d see you.” He headed toward me and shook my hand heartily.

    Ned was the detective I came up against most in my