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supposed to make her face radiant, or so says the marketing brochure. Instead she had a bad reaction, and her face looks like a giant red blister. You missed the screaming show in Sunny’s office. She wants her mother to get the esthetician—are you ready?—arrested. She wants Sunny to call in favors. Celine had to cancel her big Christmas gala tomorrow night.” The office phone was ringing. “Shit, what do people want this time of the year...go to look at people’s houses to see what kind of Christmas tree they put up?”

Kassandra went to answer the phone. That was actually a big part of her job. She moved slowly due to her soft cast. It felt good to have her back at the office. The place wasn’t the same without our resident Tarot cards reader. I walked to my spot in the bull pen. A young couple with a tot sat at the table we liked to call our conference table, but really could only accommodate up to six people. They seemed to be looking at the monitor on the table. One of the male agents came from the back. He must have gone for some of the lollipops in the shape of a Santa Claus that Sunny had purchased for the season.

He waved at me and mouthed, “Rentals.”

I nodded.

He handed a lollipop to the kid, and I turned on my ancient personal computer while I worked up the courage to go talk to Sunny. She must be very upset after Celine’s performance.

Kassandra dragged herself down to where I was and pulled up a chair next to me. “So what have you been up to all day? You done with Christmas shopping?”

I shook my head. “Was over at The Nest until noon.”

“Didn’t you give the listing back to the Brown sisters?”

“I did, I drove there with Brenda who went to offer Leta moral support. I got bored and ended up visiting Kay’s place. Looks pretty chichi, believe me. Oh, guess who was there? Double Wide. Ok, wait. I need to, no, we need to stop calling him that. Turns out Kay and Wolf have known each other since birth or something like that. And they both knew that girl who drowned in the pool.”

“Monica, I told you, she choked on her vomit.”

“Maybe, but she was found floating in the pool.”

“Look.” She pulled out her cell. Well, it looked big enough to be a small tablet if you’d asked me. She clicked a few times and then put it under my eyes. “Read,” she said.

Cause of death...Aspiration of Gastric Contents. I shrugged. “So? By the way, where are you getting all that hodgepodge of semi-true info regarding Miss Martin?”

“I subscribe to a secret group.”

“A secret group of what? Did you meet some wackos while bedridden in the hospital?”

“Wackos? No, that would be your department. Wait, wait, there is something coming in.” Her eyes on the screen, her fingers clicked away. “Ah, her real name is Ana Hu, and she was in the country illegally. Big deal, her and a few million more.”

“Kassandra, it could have happened to me. The poor woman had no one to help her. Okay, Kay and Wolf tried. Apparently their good intentions backfired.” Oops, stop talking, Monica.

Kassandra didn’t flinch. She probably wasn’t even paying attention to me, she seemed hypnotized by her cell phone. I prayed it was just a phase, and she’d stop being so addicted to that secret group.

“Yes, yes, here it is. I knew it,” she said to her screen. I was afraid to ask what she knew. And didn’t need to. “Forensic toxicology report.” Her voice sounded downright giddy, like a kid on Christmas morning. “Wow, whoever wanted her dead went for the overkill. Look at this.”

I covered my eyes. “Put away that phone, I don’t want to see any sick-looking photos of dead people.”

Kassandra laughed. “You sissy, you’re no fun. Anyway, relax. No pics.” She flashed the screen in front of me for maybe a nanosecond then went back to stare at it, mumbling stuff like alcohol, benzodiazepine, Rohypnol, but then came the kicker—Diazepam.

That was what Kay said she let Ana take. I moved away from the desk and the phone from hell. But not fast enough because Kassandra was determined to be as obnoxious as possible. Normally I found it amusing, not this time.

“Full of roofies and alcohol,” she said. “She must have thrown up on the perp before he sexually assaulted her. That explains why her underwear were still on her. So he dropped her in the pool?” She looked up from the screen, and our eyes met. “Hey, stop looking at me like I’m the devil.” More mumbling. “The report says there was very little water in her lungs. You think she vomited on the killer? That would be a real kicker. How do you behave in public wearing a puke-covered suit?” She laughed.

I got up from my chair, I needed to get away from this insanity. “Got to talk to Sunny,” I said and walked away.

TWENTY-ONE

I FOUND MYSELF circling the crowded parking lot of Paradise Valley mall. Seeking quiet in a shopping mall the week before Christmas? Talk about stupidity. Not knowing what department store to visit for inspiration, I tried to park close to Macy’s, found a space and felt lucky.

I strolled into the large mall where little kids lined up with their parents for the traditional pit stop on Santa’s lap, a very noisy scene, and to me, not fun to watch. I moved on, wishing to shake myself out of the funk my brief conversation with Kassandra had gotten me into.

Her hospital stay did not improve her attitude. At first I walked aimlessly, often bumping into people or being pushed around. Then I found a seasonal display of colorful calendars. One with various dog breeds on every page that would be kind of cute for Brenda. I bought it. And decided to pay a visit to one of the fancy Scottsdale shops that carried all

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