"Yeah, only the A-team didn't have no drag queen," Lula said.

"Mr. T. liked jewelry," Sally said. "I could be Mr. T."

"Nuh uh. I want to be Mr. T. on account of he was big and black like me."

Sally had taken the note out of the bag and was reading it. "This is interesting. She keeps changing the code. This is much more sophisticated than the others."

"Can you read it?"

"Hey, I'm the fucking code master. Just give me some time."

I PARKED in the lot to my apartment building and took the stairs to the second floor. Mrs. Delgado, Mr. Weinstein, Mrs. Karwatt and Leanne Kokoska were standing, staring at my door.

"Now what?" I asked.

"Someone left you a message," Mrs. Karwatt said. "I was going out with the garbage when I noticed it."

"It's a pip, too," Mrs. Delgado said. "Must be from one of them hoodlums you're out to get."

I stepped up and looked at the door. The message was scribbled in black marker: "I hate you! And I'll get even!"

"Who do you suppose did this?" Leanne asked. "Are you on a real dangerous case? You after a murderer or something?"

Truth is, I had no idea anymore who I was after.

"Permanent marker," Mr. Weinstein said. "Gonna be the devil to get off. Probably gonna have to paint over it."

"I'll call Dillon," I told them, shoving the key in the lock. "Dillon will fix it for me."

Dillon Ruddick was the super, and Dillon would fix anything for a smile and a beer.

I let myself into my apartment, and my neighbors went off looking for a new adventure. I slipped the safety chain into place, bolted my door and headed for the kitchen. The light was blinking on my answering machine. One message.

I punched Replay. "This is Helen Badijian, the manager at the Seven-Eleven." There was a pause and some fumbling. "You left your card here and said I should call if I had information about Miss Nowicki."

I dialed the 7-Eleven and Helen answered.

"I'm very busy now," she said. "If you could drop by later, maybe around ten, I think I might have something for you."

This was turning into a halfway decent day. Sally was working on the clue, and the 7-Eleven woman had a potential lead.

"We need to celebrate," I told Rex, trying to overlook the fact that I was actually very creeped out by the message on my door. "Pop-Tarts for everyone."

I looked in my cupboard, but there were no Pop-Tarts. No cookies, no cereal, no cans of spaghetti, no soup, no extra jars of peanut butter. A piece of paper was taped to the cupboard door. It was a shopping list. It said, "buy everything."