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        Evvie continues to read her review aloud. " 'Another French movie, and you know how much this reviewer loves French movies . . .' "
        "Yeah," Ida pipes up from the backseat, " 'cause they're so dirty."
        "It's you, Ida dear, who has the dirty mind. The French are sophisticated." She goes back to reading. "Anyway, 'remember that adorable Audrey Tautou from Amélie ? She's in this movie, too, but watch out, no petits pois this time. Now there's blood on her chapeau . . . ' "
        "Are you sure you want petits pois ?" I ask. "I think that means green peas."
        Suddenly there is a commotion in the backseat.
        "You block my ten and I'll smack you," Ida shouts at Sophie.
        Sophie slams down the cards in Bella's lap, shouting as she does.
        "Take that! And that! And that!"
        "Oof," says Bella in reaction to Sophie's enthusiasm.
        "Bitch!" says Ida.
        "Nah, nah," says Sophie.
        "I'll get you for that!" And Ida slams down her cards even harder on poor Bella's lap, ruining Sophie's run.
        "Oof," says Bella again, her stomach really taking a beating. "Excuse me," she announces, "I have to go."
        "I told you not to drink all that seltzer," Ida says.
        "Well, you punching me didn't help."
        "Can't you hold it in?" Sophie insists.
        "No . . ."
        "Now what do we do?" Ida asks.
        Evvie turns to them. "Well, cops usually carry an empty bottle with them."
        "A lot of good that would do us," Ida comments.
        "I have to go. Now!" Bella is wiggling from side to side.
        I look up and down the dark street. "Nothing's open around here except the bar," I tell her. "You'll have to go in there."
        "No way," says Bella, scrunching lower in her seat.
        "Take your mind off it," Sophie offers. "Have a bite of halvah."
        Bella wiggles in the seat.
        "I gotta go," she insists. "But I'm not walking into that place alone."
        "I'll take her over there," says Sophie. "But what do I say if somebody asks me what we're doing around here?"
        That stops us for a moment.
        "Just act senile," says Ida. "That's what they think we are anyway."
        "Good plan," says Evvie.
        Sophie and Bella slowly get out of the car, looking around the empty streets fearfully. There isn't a soul to be seen anywhere. Evvie whispers out the window, "I'm going to lock the door after you."
        "Just don't blow our cover," says Ida.
        "I told you we needed a jerk," Bella whimpers as they head for the bar.
        We wait, eyes glued on the bar door, shpilkes.
        I turn the radio on to take our minds off what might be going on inside the bar. I get a news station. All ears perk up as we hear: "As reported earlier today, Josephine Dano Martinson, sixtyone, died tragically at the Boca Springs Health Spa where she was a member of long standing. She was found dead of heart failure, lying near her own private steam room."
        We look at one another, surprised.
        The announcer continues. "Mrs. Martinson, one of Florida's twenty-five wealthiest women, died on the day she was to host a fund-raiser for the Boca Raton Opera. She is survived by her second husband, Robert Martinson."
        "Two dead rich women in less than a week," I say.
        "Coincidence?" asks Evvie.
        "Probably," I comment. "Maybe."
        Ida says, "Too bad Sophie is missing this. Here's another rich widower she won't be able to get her hands on."
        Suddenly the bar door bursts open and Sophie bolts out, practically dragging Bella with her. They are moving fast. I quickly unlock the car doors. Sophie shoves Bella into the backseat, knocking her on top of Ida, then jumps in after her. "Shut the lights, fast!"
        "What?" spits Ida, as she caroms Bella back at Sophie. "What did you do?"
        "Nothing. The card game's over. They're coming