But the day was about to take a turn for the better. Because when I got back to my apartment, there was a message from Lt. Webb on my machine.

The cops had shown up at Eduardo’s just in time to find him burning the wig in his fireplace. Fortunately, they were able to fish out a large portion of it unscathed by flames.

Not only that, but the gallery owner who’d given Eduardo his alibi confessed that he’d been lying to protect his client. When the cops put the squeeze on him, he admitted Eduardo had been nowhere near Santa Barbara on the day of the murder.

“Thanks so much, Jaine,” Webb said on the machine. “We really couldn’t have broken this case without you.”

I played the message three times just to hear those words.

“Did you hear that, Prozac?” I said, scooping her up in my arms. “They couldn’t have broken the case without me!”

Whew! Ever hear of deodorant? was what she was no doubt thinking as she wriggled free from my loving embrace.

And she was right. It was definitely time to wash up. And then I realized with a surge of joy: At last it was safe to go back to the bathroom!

Oh, happy day.

I tootled off to the bathroom, peeling off my clothes en route.

I opened the bathroom door and gasped. No, I didn’t see another hair dryer in the tub. But I did see myself in the mirror. Not a pretty picture. Think Medusa on a bad hair day.

Too exhausted for a bath, I took a quick shower. Standing under the hot spray, I felt all the tension of the past few days drain out of my body. I emerged from the shower, squeaky clean, smelling of Ivory soap instead of Eau de Seaweed.

I slipped into my ancient pink chenille bathrobe and fed Prozac an early dinner of Savory Beef Guts. Then I unplugged the phone and collapsed into bed.

It had been one heck of a day. My first time in jail. My first ride in a squad car. My first encounter with a psychic hooker. And most amazing of all, I realized just before I drifted off to sleep, the first time I’d spent a day without eating. It’s true. I hadn’t eaten a thing since that Egg McMuffin I’d picked up for breakfast. For one whole day, I’d actually forgotten about food.

Quick, somebody call Ripley’s Believe It or Not.

YOU’VE GOT MAIL!

To: Jausten

From: Shoptillyoudrop

Subject: Back from Ohio

Well, honey, we’re back from Ohio, and all I can say is, I can never show my face in that state again.

The wedding was a nightmare.

Remember Charleton MacAfee, whose name was on the wedding invitation? Well, it turns out that Charleton is cousin Cindy’s dog! A hunting spaniel. Cindy and her husband, who are incidentally every bit as crazy as Uncle Fred and Aunt Earlene, decided they wanted the dog to be in the wedding party.