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it might be more trouble than it was worth. But when Beth walked into the office and applied for the job, I’d hired her on the spot. We had an instant chemistry, and she’d turned out to be the perfect receptionist. Punctual. Always willing to do whatever was necessary. She’d even taken an interest in the practice end of it, asking questions about clients and their treatments, wanting to understand how the various techniques helped people with particular physical complaints.  
    As I sat lost in thought, the mailman walked in. I signed for a small package, together with a handful of envelopes. When he left, I opened the small, brown box and removed the bottles of essential oils I’d ordered the week before. Picking up the envelopes and leafing through them, I came upon one addressed to Beth Stevens. It was pale yellow and looked to be a greeting card by the square shape. There was no return address. To just throw it away seemed too cold, to give it to Jacob or Max too heartless. I decided to open it. “Congratulations on Your Engagement” was printed in raised, gold script on the front. Inside, it read:  
     
        Dear Beth,  
        I am so pleased to hear of your engagement. I will be in town next Saturday, November 13, on business and would love to meet for drinks at Barney’s at 4 p.m. Looking forward to seeing you again, and please give my regards to your fiancé, Jacob.  
      Love,  
      Your cousin,
      Greg  
     
    Deciding to hold onto it, I tucked the card into my purse. When I glanced back down at the client list, the sadness and anger began to creep back in. The thought of Beth’s life cut short made me want to scream.
    I had just finished rescheduling all the appointments when an attractive woman who looked to be in her early thirties walked in.  
    “ Hi, can I help you?” I asked, wondering if she was one of Gabby’s clients.
    “ Yes. My name is Lindy,” she said, looking around the waiting room. “Is Beth working today? I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by and say hi ... ” She’d seemed about to say more when she saw the look on my face. Shaking my head, I stood up and walked around the desk. She removed her sunglasses revealing long brown bangs that covered her eyebrows.
    “ I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Beth died a few days ago.” I cleared my throat, then remembered, too late, that I was supposed to refrain from mentioning details to anyone. She didn’t react at first, but after a few long seconds my words seemed to sink in. She brought a hand to her mouth and looked at me. “What happened?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.  
    I ran the fingers of my left hand over my temple, pushing back some loose strands of hair. “It’s being investigated by the police,” I began, “and I’ve been asked not to say anything about it to anyone.”  
    “ Well,” she said, with a quick roll of her eyes. “It’s not like I’m going to say anything. I mean, really?”
    “ I’m sorry,” I said, walking back around the desk.  
    I began to write the time and place of Beth’s service on a slip of paper, but the woman turned on her heel and walked out the door indignantly. I followed her outside, piece of paper in hand.  
    “ Excuse me, Lindy, you might want this.” I called out, waving the piece of paper in the air. She looked at me, put her sunglasses back on, and got in her car without a word. I watched her drive off ...  in a white Subaru Outback.  
        The moment my brain registered what I was seeing, intuition kicked into overdrive. I ran to my desk and grabbed my purse and car keys.
    The adrenaline coursing through my veins drove my foot down harder and harder on the accelerator. What was I doing? It was absurd. But I couldn’t ignore the coincidence. Was this the car Beth had been in just a few days ago? If so, why in the world would Beth try to hide it, especially with the owner being a woman? And who was this