It was near the end of the movie, when Audrey gives up Gregory (foolish girl!) and goes back to being a princess, when the doorbell rang.

I threw on my robe and went to the door.

“Who is it?” I called out. For an awful minute, I was afraid it might be the cops coming to arrest Heidi.

“Sir Speedy.”

Oh, great. Only five hours late.

I opened the door, utterly disgusted. “It’s after midnight,” I said to the third world refugee who stood at my door.

“Sorry,” he said in halting English. “My car busted down on freeway.”

He handed me the pizza, which wasn’t even remotely warm.

“What are you, crazy? We’re not going to eat this. Who eats cold pizza at one in the morning?”

Okay, so we ate it. Standing over the kitchen sink in our bare feet. Tossing the anchovies to Prozac.

“This is fun,” Heidi said, slurping up a gooey strand of cheese.

At that moment, she reminded me of Audrey’s Roman Holiday princess, running away from a life that gave her little pleasure, and enjoying herself for a change.

I was glad she was having fun. I only hoped it would last.

Chapter Nine

I drove Heidi home the next morning, after a nutritious breakfast of pizza crusts and Pepsi. Conchi greeted us at the door, clutching her ever-present bottle of Windex. I was beginning to think she owned stock in the company.

“Miss Heidi!” she said. “Are you all right? I was worried about you.”

I was glad to hear that somebody was.

“I’m fine, Conchi. Where’s Dad?”

“Mr. Hal went to the gym to play racquetball.”

He went to the gym? With his wife dead less than twenty-four hours and his daughter the prime suspect? What a prince. Meanwhile I could see Brad in the living room, sprawled out on a sofa, leafing through his Ferrari brochure, another grief-stricken mourner.

“I guess I’d better go unpack,” Heidi said, looking none too happy to be back in the arms of her dysfunctional family.

“Remember, Heidi, I’m here if you need me. And you mustn’t worry about the police. I can’t believe they really suspect you of anything.”

I reached over and gave her a hug.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” I said. “I promise.”

“I wish I could stay with you,” she sighed.

“I do, too,” I said. “But I’m sure your father wants you here with him.” I wasn’t sure of any such thing, but I knew he wasn’t about to let his daughter move in with a struggling freelance writer on the wrong side of the Beverly Hills tracks.

Heidi managed a weak smile and headed upstairs.

“Keep an eye on her,” I whispered to Conchi.

“Sí, Miss Jaine,” Conchi said. “I will try to protect her from the evil spirit.”

“Evil spirit?”

She nodded solemnly, her eyes filled with fear. “The ghost of Miss SueEllen. She is here. In this house.”

Oh, great. The one person in Casa Kingsley who seemed to care about Heidi was a few cards short of a full deck.