“No, don’t do that. She called me earlier, and it’s pretty wild there tonight. This would be a very, very bad time to call her.”

Angie started heading toward the kitchen, which would take her past my study. I blocked her way. “Just stay here for a minute,” I said, touching both her shoulders lightly.

“What? Can’t I go to the kitchen?”

“Just stay here for a minute!”

My tone gave Angie a jolt. She stood still while I turned and ran to my study. I eased the door open. Maybe he wasn’t dead, I thought. Maybe I’d just knocked him cold. It used to happen to Mannix every week on TV. Somebody hit him in the head with a gun butt, he was back on his feet after the commercial, no harm done. Even if this guy was Stefanie’s killer, I hadn’t signed on to be his executioner.

“Oh man,” I said.

Rick was gone. I came back out of the study, bolted into the kitchen. The patio door was wide open. Evidently, I’d not killed him. And when he realized the police were in the house, he’d made a break for it. I slid the door shut, and when I returned to the study, I found Angie there, looking at the pieces of the Robot model all over the carpet, as well as a couple of makeup items from Stefanie’s purse that I’d failed to scoop up.

“What happened here, Dad?” Angie asked. “Your robot thingy. It’s all smashed.”

“I just had a little accident, that’s all.”

“And what’s Mom’s makeup doing here?” She picked up an eyeliner, sneered. “Oooh. She doesn’t even use this kind.”

“Angie, do you have any place you could go tonight?”

“Go?”

“A friend’s, to sleep over.”

“You never let me go to sleepovers on a school night.”

“I know, but you know, it’s your mom’s birthday in a couple of days, and I think she’s going to be able to get off shift soon, and I thought I’d surprise her when she gets home. Order in some food, put on some music, maybe—”

“Oh God, don’t tell me any more. That’s so gross. Yeah, I could probably go to Francine’s. Her parents are in Europe, she’d like the company.”

“Why don’t you go throw some things together and I’ll drive you over.”

Angie shrugged, turned to go upstairs. “You still owe me $150,” she said.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” I said. “I didn’t know that money was counterfeit.”

She shrugged. “It was kind of cool, actually. I never got to ride in the back of a cop car before.”

Chapter 18

18

while angie packed an overnight bag, I called Paul’s cell phone.

“Yeah?”

“It’s me. You still at Andy’s?” I could hear other young males goofing around in the background.