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unconsciously to the upper slope of the Himalayas barely contained by her jacket. "What a charming word. You're charming, Dr. Quartermaine."
    "And you," he responded solemnly, "are enchanting."
    "Oh, my goodness! Look at me, I'm leaking again!" She clutched her breasts and blushed. "I can't help myself sometimes. It's so embarrassing, but I can't stop the flow—"
    "It's quite natural," the doctor said calmly, but I thought I detected a quiver in his pointed beard as he passed her a handful of tissues.
    She stuffed them into her bra to stop the torrent of milk. Any minute she was going to start telling him about her personal goddess, so I said, "I'm fine, too. I don't need coddling."
    But Libby began acting like Florence Nightingale. "Let me take care of her, Dr. Quartermaine. I know just how to settle her nerves."
    The doctor listened attentively and approved of her plan.
    Libby insisted on taking me to her favorite spa.
    "Don't be ridiculous," I objected when we were alone again. "I'll be fine in five minutes. It's just a stupid fainting spell."
    "That handsome doctor says to get you out of here."
    "For God's sake, stop acting like you want to play with his stethoscope. I'm not leaving Emma."
    "You can't take care of Emma if you're a mess yourself," she argued. "Now, come on."
    I was woozy and in no shape to make decisions for myself, and Reed was completely bulldozed by my sister's imperious commands, so the spa is where we ended up. Reed pitied me so much that he took charge of Spike.
    At The Pink Windowbox, Libby helped me get undressed and into a plush cotton candy-colored robe. I felt like Camille when she guided me to a table behind a large potted plant in the corner of the spa's serenely pink dining room. In minutes, Libby had the whole staff scurrying to take care of us. A pot of herb tea was rushed to our table. Libby frowned over the lunch menu and ordered me a grapefruit and a piece of broiled fish with lemon. For herself, she requested a chicken quesadilla with extra cheese and a beer. "Because I'm nursing," she announced to the waitress.
    "No kidding," said the girl, who from her perspective had a breathtaking view of Libby's cleavage.
    "No tip," Libby warned.
    When the waitress hurried away, I said, "Libby, this is completely ridiculous. I'm not an invalid."
    "You're as pale as paper. Besides, I can't take care of Emma, so I'll take care of you instead. I have a motherly nature. You can't fight instinct."
    "We should be with Emma."
    Libby poured tea for me. "Dr. Quartermaine said it would be better to come back when Emma's fully conscious."
    I planted my elbows on the table and put my head in my hands. I couldn't even fake normalcy. "Oh, God."
    Libby softened and gave my elbow a shake. "Let's get you healthy. Then we'll think of a way to help Emma."
    The waitress came, and Libby received her beer with pleasure.
    When we were alone again, I said, "This is very bad, Lib. Rush Strawcutter is dead, and Emma had blood all over her."
    "I know."
    Libby took a slug of her beer and glanced around the restaurant to make sure nobody could overhear us. Then she leaned closer and dropped her voice to a whisper. "I spoke to Emma for just a minute in the emergency room. She doesn't remember anything. She'd been drinking last night, and she passed out. She told me that much before the police showed up."
    I had just swallowed a sip of tea, and the mention of police made me choke on it. Libby gave me a karate chop between my shoulder blades.
    "Yes, the police," she said when I had myself under control again. "What did you expect? Rushton is dead, and it wasn't an accident, either. He'd been hit on the head."
    "By whom?"
    We looked at each other.
    "No," I said. "Even drunk, she'd never."
    Libby didn't answer, and I wobbled to my feet. "I need a telephone."
    "What for?"
    "I'll be right back."
    When I returned from the spa lobby, I sat down at the table and pulled the pink robe closer around my shoulders. Shivering, I wrapped both