"Oh, it's so fabulous. A lot of dogs are going to get spayed or neutered because of your contribution." She looked around for the rest of my posse, and I explained that we'd worked all night and they'd be there soon.

  With the blanket delivered, I breathed a sigh of relief and wandered through all the setups, wondering if anyone had coffee. I noticed that some of the storefronts were actuallybeing used for the fair. There were signs for tarot card readings, astrology charts, chiropractic adjustments and massages. The smell of coffee got my attention, and I followed it. I got a "black eye" this time. It was definitely a two-shot-of-espresso day. I didn't even want to think what I looked like, still in yesterday's clothes. I was glad I'd worn the khakis that promised not to wrinkle.

  There were several benches in the grassy center area, and I settled on one. Even with the espresso-and-coffee mixture, my eyes got heavy, and though I didn't mean to, I fell asleep.

  "Molly, are you all right? Speak to me," a voice said, cutting into my sleep. When I opened my eyes, Sheila's face was inches from mine, and she was shaking my shoulders."Sorry, but when I saw you slumped over, I thought you were . . ." she said with a nervous laugh.

  "Dead?" I said, finishing her thought.

  "After Ellen and then Natalie . . . You know how they say things travel in threes," she said with a trace of warning in her voice. As I looked around, I realized I must have been asleep for quite a while, as the fair was now in full swing. I don't know if it was from sleeping sitting up in public and wearing yesterday's clothes or because of Sheila's comment, but the feeling of unease had moved up from the back of my mind.

  My eyes felt kind of gritty, and slumping had left me with a nice kink in my neck. There was still some coffee in the cup, and I drank it cold, then began rubbing the back of my neck.

  "Meredith is doing massages." Sheila pointed to a row of storefronts. "You ought to sign up. I'm first on the list." Sheila sat down with me. She seemed very tense again, and I wondered what was up. Looking as if she was on autopilot,she took out her hook and wad of string and started crocheting a coaster.

  A massage by Meredith sounded like just what I needed, but before I could act on the thought, I looked towardthe shaded area where the dogs for adoption were in enclosures. Barry and Jeffrey were leaning over the metal fencing, petting a black and gray mutt. It felt like a rock had dropped in my stomach. Without realizing it, I reached into my pocket, took out my hook and string, and joined Sheila in nervous crocheting. I wasn't looking at what I was doing, and I made a long tail of chain stitches and then turned the work and started going back over the chain with single crochets.

  "There's CeeCee," Sheila said. I pulled my eyes away from Barry just as a man handed the dog's leash to Jeffrey. When I saw CeeCee, I did a double take. She was freshly attired and seemed to have joined the living again, but what really got my attention was who she was talking to-- Lawrence Sheridan. He had Felix with him, and his head was leaning toward CeeCee's as if they were in some deep, friendly conversation. Something had definitely changed between them.

  I got up and stretched.

  "Hey, Pink, did you deliver the blanket?" Adele asked as she walked over. The lavender pedal pushers and aqua top, finished off with a silver baseball cap, were apparently her casual mode.

  "Of course," I said, starting to rub my neck again. "I'm signing up for one of those massages."

  Adele followed me--well, she actually tried to pass me, but her platform sandals slowed her down and I got to the storefront massage parlor first. The windows had been paperedover to give privacy, and there was a clipboard with a sign-up sheet on a chair by the door.

  I signed my name and handed the board to Adele just as she clomped up. Unfortunately my allotted time wasn't for a while, and I decided to walk around.

  There was a nice turnout, and lots of people had brought their pets with them. But I didn't think it would have been Blondie's cup of tea.

  I ran into more familiar faces. Meg and Stacy, two of the newbies, had come with their kids. They were on the way to the auction tent to show them the "murder" blanket. Farther on, I passed Will Hunter. He'd brought his dog, a mutt with one blue eye and one black one, and multicoloredfur. He'd already seen the blanket and was proud to say he'd played a part in it.

  "Molly," a male voice called. I turned and squinted into the sun, trying to find its owner.

  "Mason?" I said, surprised.

  "I hoped I'd run into you. Here's that name." He handed me a business card. "I saw the afghan, and it looks great," he said, touching my arm in his signature gesture. I caught sight of his watch and realized it was time for my massage. After saying I'd see him at the auction, I rushed off, slippingthe business card into my pocket. I assumed it was the booking agent for Samuel.

  When I reached the massage storefront, a sign was hanging on the door, saying MASSAGE IN SESSION. ApparentlyMeredith was running late. I hung around the door, waiting.

  When it finally opened, a smiling man walked out. "You're in for a treat," he said, before disappearing into the crowd.

  When Meredith saw that I was next, she hugged me and brought me inside. I walked across the smooth tile floor, hoping the massage would take away this feeling of somethingnot being right, but if anything, the lingering fragrancein the air made me feel even more uneasy, and I started rubbing my temples.

  I tried to push it all away, making small talk with Meredith.

  "I promise this will be better than what I did in the bookstore," she said as she helped me into her special chair. She explained that she'd begin with me leaning forwardwhile she worked on my back; then she'd recline the seat. It all sounded good to me. She undid my shirt, pulled it off my shoulders and laid some flat, warm stones on my shoulders and neck. They felt soothing, and I closed my eyes, hoping I would relax.

  I felt Meredith take the stones off, and I heard her squeeze something onto her hands. Suddenly I smelled a stronger version of the disquieting fragrance. My stomach felt queasy, and I opened my eyes and sat up.

  I blinked and looked around, hoping my stomach would settle. The makeshift massage parlor was empty except for a shelving unit with some supplies left from the last shoot. I'd put my purse on it next to Meredith's things. I tried takingsome deep breaths. I noticed my purse had fallen over, pulling Meredith's scarf away from her bag. Something about it got my attention. It was messenger style and crochetedout of granny squares. I couldn't take my eyes off of it, and she followed my gaze.

  "Beautiful, isn't it?" she said. "It was a gift from Ellen."

  I nodded in agreement. It was beautiful, and perfect exceptfor the hanging yarn around the button closure.

  "It's better if you close your eyes," she said, gently pushing my shoulders and easing me against the special chair.

  Even with my eyes closed, I couldn't get my mind off the bag. There was something about the beige yarn in the middle of the squares that bothered me.

  Meredith worked on my arms and shoulders, and moved on to the pressure points in my back. It was supposed to relaxme, but if anything I was feeling more tense. The yarn was the color of coffee with lots of milk, and it was fuzzy. A halo, that's what CeeCee had called it. I swallowed hard as I realized what bag it was. It was the one Ellen had made for her daughter, with the yarn from her cat. No way would Ellen have given that to Meredith. I remembered the ball of yarn and hook next to Ellen when I'd found her. Ellen must have been finishing it when . . .

  Meredith's hands were back on my shoulders. Her hands felt powerful as they squeezed and kneaded. Then she began working on my neck, and the smell of the massageoil was so strong, I felt like I couldn't breathe. I had to get out of there.

  I sat upright. "I've changed my mind about the massage," I said, trying to keep my voice calm.

  Meredith didn't release her hands, and for the first time I realized just how strong she was. I couldn't get up. "Nonsense,Molly, nobody leaves in the middle of a massage."

  "I really have to go," I protested. Using my arms for leverage I gathered my strength, thrust against her grip, and stood up abruptly. I was relieved when her hands fell away.

  With my shirt still pulled down from my shoulders, I quickly took a step toward the door, but then I felt somethingcold and metallic against the base of my neck.

  "I don't think you want to leave just yet," Meredith said in a menacing tone. She pushed me back into the chair and came around to the front. A small blue steel handgun was now pointed at my face. She explained that it was a gift from her boyfriend and small enough to keep in her pocket. He was concerned for her safety, with so many people showing up dead. I swallowed hard when she said his name. "Lawrence."

  I looked toward the door. It was maybe fifteen feet away. Outside, the fair was in full swing. If I could just get to the door.

  "You think you know something, don't you? You have been trouble since day one. I thought once you were off the hook, you'd back off."

  I'd always thought Meredith was pretty, but seeing how hard her blue eyes were, I changed my mind. Her mouth was set in a grim, straight line.

  "It was all Ellen's fault, you know," she said. "I just wanted her to shut up. She was going on and on about Lawrence and his women, and how he always promised he was going to get a divorce and marry them. Like I'd believe I was like the others. She kept saying it over and over. . . ."

  This wasn't good, I thought, getting a sinking feeling. Meredith was spilling her guts, confessing. I considered making a run for it. She'd have to be crazy to shoot me here. She would never get away with it. But the more she talked, the clearer it became that she was crazy and I had no doubt if I moved, she'd shoot.

  "It was Ellen's way of telling me she knew about Lawrence and me. Then she started saying how terrible it was when someone you'd helped betrayed you. She'd set me up massaging Lawrence. It was supposed to help relieveall his stress." Meredith got a sly smile and continued. "I found a better way to relieve his stress. And Lawrence meant it when he told me he wanted to marry me. Best proof, we're together now." She grimaced in annoyance. "I just wish he'd stop talking about her."

  Was I supposed to say something here? Did Meredith want me to tell her to hang in there, that Lawrence was sure to come around and make all her dreams come true?

  "Ellen just kept going on and on. Crocheting and talkingas I was giving her a massage. I just wanted her to shut up, and I did this thing called the sleep maneuver. They actuallydemonstrated it in massage school and said never to hold a client that way.

  "I reached around her neck with the crook of my arm. She thought it was part of the massage, like I was steadying her while I did her back. Then I squeezed. In a few seconds she passed out, and the yacking stopped. I wanted to let go, but I knew she'd just start up again. And then she stopped breathing."

  Meredith rambled on about setting it up to look like a burglary, but since she had no experience, she'd bungled it. Now I understood why the smell of the massage oil botheredme. It must have been lingering on Ellen when I'd found her. And it had been in the air when I'd gone to Pink Sheridan that night. For a moment I thought I was going to throw up at the strong scent of lavender and eucalyptus, but the wave of nausea passed.

  Now that Meredith had started, she was letting it all go. There was a certain look of relief on her face as she started talking about Natalie. Not telling anyone must have been hard.

  "I came in from setting up my massage chair, and Nataliewas talking to you on the phone. She didn't realize I heard her tell you about finding Ellen's appointment book. Everybody had bought my story that I left Ellen's early becauseEllen said she had an important lunch meeting. Even that blond detective." Meredith glared at me hard. "It was all working out very nicely when the detective thought you were Ellen's lunch date, but once I knew about Ellen's appointmentbook, I realized it was only a matter of time beforeNatalie figured out Ellen had no lunch meeting. I couldn't afford to be caught in a lie. Natalie was getting too cozy with Lawrence, anyway. I had to protect my interests. And setting it up so it looked like she killed Ellen and then herself over the guilt made the date book irrelevant."

  I finally understood Natalie's cryptic comment about not what was there, but what wasn't. Not that it was any help to me now.

  Meredith smiled again at her own cleverness as she describedhow she'd begun the massage in the outer office. "I had to leave off the massage oil--the residue on her skin would have been a giveaway. She was easy to fool. When she wasn't looking, I dumped a little on the carpet, then showed her the spot, claiming I'd spilled the whole bottle. When I excused myself to use the restroom, I wrote the suicide note on Natalie's computer. I was wearing gloves, of carse. Then I suggested we finish on the balcony. Natalie fell for all the nonsense about ions and the special propertiesof a fresh-air massage. Everybody in the building was gone. Even the cleaning crew wasn't there. I did the same move on her. Once she passed out, I just pushed her over the edge." Meredith's expression changed to concern. "They really should consider a higher railing."

  I looked longingly toward the door. Meredith followed my gaze and gave me a shake of her head.

  "Sorry, but it looks like you'll be missing the auction." She took a step closer, and I could smell the metal of the gun. "I don't like killing people. And I'm sure you'll be my last. I'll just say you had some kind of seizure while I was giving you a massage." She rambled on about how she'd say she tried CPR, but it didn't work. I was feeling light-headednow. Time was definitely running out.

  I felt my throat catch when she pulled a dispenser of duct tape off the shelving unit and positioned it with the gun under her arm. With her free hand, she pulled out a length and tore it against the cutting edge. She slapped it across my mouth, and I felt an instant sense of panic, as if I couldn't breathe. I sucked air hard through my nose and fought the dizzying feeling. She pulled off a longer piece of the metallic tape and went behind me. I felt it stick to one ankle and then go around the other before they were pulled together. With my feet bound together behind the chair, any thought of escaping on foot went out the window.

  Meredith came back in front of me. She pulled off anotherlong piece, and I knew it was meant for my hands. Once she secured them, I would be totally helpless. I looked around for something, anything that could help me. There was nothing near me except for a small table with the bottle of massage oil.

  She stepped toward my right arm, but the tape caught a bit of air and blew against itself, sticking together. As she shook her hand to free it, I made my move. She was lookingdown at the tape, which now had flipped up, the end sticking to her hand.

  I grabbed the bottle and squeezed hard. The stream of strong-scented oil hit the floor and made an ever-enlarging puddle on the smooth tile. Meredith picked up on the movement and turned toward me.

  "What are you doing?" she said, making a lunge to get the bottle. Big mistake. The oil made the slick floor impossible.Meredith lost her footing and fell with a large plop. The gun flew out of her hand and went off to points unknown.She tried to get up, but her hands and feet slid away and she did a belly flop.

  I tore the tape off my mouth, not something I'd like to repeat. I could taste blood on my lip. I took a deep breath and tried to call for help, but my voice wouldn't work. Desperately,I leaned down to get the tape off my legs. It was not an easy proposition. I couldn't tear it or find the end to pull it, and I had no scissors to cut it.

  Meredith had made it to her hands and knees and was trying to crawl out of the puddle, but her legs kept slipping from under her. Eventually she was going to figure out a way to get up, so I had to work fast. I rolled the tape into a band and pulled my legs against it, eventually getting it slack enough that I pulled out one foot at a time.

  Being careful to avoid the oil, I jumped off the chair. I needed to restrain Meredith, but she was so oily, the tape wouldn't stick to her. Then I remembered the nervous crochetingI'd done, and pulled it out of my pocket. It had been just aimless work, and instead of making a coaster, I had just made a long foundation chain with several rows of single crochet. I took it and wrapped it around Meredith's feet. She was wiggling on the ground now, trying to get across the room to find the gun.

  Suddenly the door flew open, and Adele marched in. "Pink, what's taking so long? It's my turn." Then she looked down and saw Meredith writhing in the oil on the floor with her feet tied together.

  "She killed Ellen and Natalie, and she was trying to kill me." I called out a number and told Adele to use her cell. For once, Adele didn't ask any questions.

  A few moments later Barry sprinted in, gun drawn. I held up my hand to stop him before he hit the oil. He gave me an odd look, and I realized my shirt was still pulled down around my shoulders and unbuttoned in the front.

  After that it seemed as though half the fair was crowded outside. Barry kept Meredith handcuffed until some uniformsarrived, along with Detective Heather, who, it turned out, was also at the fair. It seemed strange to see her in shorts. She was talking to Meredith and wanted a statement from Adele and me. Someone had found a roll of paper towelsand covered the oily area with layer upon layer of them. Adele was making the most of her moment and was telling everyone she had saved me.

  I was sitting on the massage chair, giddy from it all and at the same time about to cry. I can only imagine how I looked. I had at least pulled my shirt on and closed it.

  I saw CeeCee, Sheila and some of the other crocheters just outside. CeeCee was talking to the various newspeople and camera crews that were there to cover the fair. Mason Fields stuck his head in the door. He took one look at me and disappeared. He reappeared a few minutes later and used his attorney powers to get inside. He had some wet paper towels for my mouth, and a frozen lemonade. Both were greatly appreciated. Barry glanced over, and I saw his expression darken. He left Detective Heather and came over.

  "Do you need a rescue ambulance?" He had positioned himself in front of Mason. My lip was still oozing, and I was feeling a little shaky, but I told him I was okay. He stayed a little too long. He just kept looking at me and breathing. His jaw clenched a few times and then he went back to business. Mason watched him go, and when Barry looked back, they exchanged glances.

 

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