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detective from the Burbank Police Force is coming to talk to us.”
    “But why does he want to talk to us? The police don’t think one of us killed Becky, do they?”
    “Of course not.” Michael draped a friendly arm around her shoulders. “Relax, Jude. Detective Davis just wants to find out more about Becky’s personal life.”
    Judy snuggled up a little closer to Michael. Was he be ginning to think of her as more than just the kid next door? But he gave her a quick, friendly squeeze and dropped his arm. Judy stepped back, and did her best to keep the dis appointment from showing on her face. “I really didn’t know that much about Becky. Did you?”
    “I knew a little. Her favorite color was blue, she loved pizza with anchovies, and she was afraid of dogs. That’s about it.”
    “Really?” Judy stared hard at Michael, but he seemed totally sincere. Perhaps he really hadn’t been as involved with Becky as everyone had thought. “But . . . Becky told me she was going to spend the night with you last night.”
    Michael looked very embarrassed as he nodded. “Uh . . . yeah. That’s true, Jude. Can I be honest with you?”
    “Of course you can!”
    “Becky arranged the whole thing. It was supposed to be a sort of celebration, with champagne and everything. She . . . uh . . . she kind of sprung it on me at the last minute. Becky was pretty young, and I usually don’t . . . are you sure you want to hear this?”
    Judy nodded. “You can tell me, Michael. I won’t repeat it. I promise.”
    “I know you won’t.” Michael smiled at her. “I trust you, Jude. And I really need someone to talk to.”
    Judy nodded. She wanted to say that she’d always be here for him, but that could come later. “Tell me, Michael.”
    “I didn’t want to do anything that might upset Becky before her audition, so I just nodded and said whatever she wanted was fine with me. I’d like to think I would have talked her into going home, that I wouldn’t have taken ad vantage of the situation, but . . . I just don’t know. Becky was an attractive girl. I’ll never know what would have hap pened if she’d met me at the apartment.”
    It was clear that Michael felt terribly guilty, and Judy wanted to reassure him. “It doesn’t really matter now, Michael. Becky didn’t get to the apartment. And you didn’t do anything wrong.”
    “I guess you’re right. I just don’t want anyone to know. Please don’t mention it to Detective Davis, okay?”
    “Are you afraid you’ll get into trouble?”
    “That’s part of it, sure. But there’s another reason. I don’t think it’s fair to ruin Becky’s reputation over something that never happened. Her parents don’t know, and well . . . they might be even more upset if they found out.”
    “You’re right.” Judy nodded. Michael was a totally nice guy. He cared about Becky’s reputation and her parents’ feelings; even though Becky was dead. “I won’t say any thing, Michael. And don’t worry. I’ll explain it to everyone else, and they won’t say anything, either.”
    “Thanks, Jude. You’re a real pal, you know?”
    Judy sighed as Michael walked away. A real pal. Michael was still thinking of her as the little kid next door. But it was clear he liked her. And he trusted her, too. Now all she had to do was get him to see her as an attractive woman, the woman he wanted to date. Perhaps it was terribly wrong of her to even think this way, but attracting Michael would be a lot easier now that Becky was gone.
    Judy frowned deeply. Of course she’d never confess her inner thoughts to anyone at the club. It had been perfectly all right to dislike Becky when she was still alive, but now that she was dead, everyone at the club seemed to regard her as some kind of saint. Judy knew that Becky hadn’t been a bad person, but she had been terribly thoughtless. Becky had never stopped to consider anyone else’s feelings. Basing her routine on Carla had been a very unkind thing to