The dear sweet woman. I felt like kissing the toe of her garden boots.

“Just tell them you were cleaning your telescope,” she said, “and you happened to look in SueEllen’s window.”

Why hadn’t I thought of that?

“All right, Emily.” Professor Zeller kissed his wife on her powdery cheek.

“Oh, don’t be an old mushbag,” she said, shooing him away.

Then she turned to me.

“I made double fudge brownies for tea. Care to join us?”

What did I tell you? The woman was a saint.

Two brownies later (okay, three brownies later), after thanking the Zellers profusely for calling the police, I bid them a fond farewell.

“You stop by any time you want, honey,” Mrs. Zeller said. “I like to see a girl with a healthy appetite.”

I drove back home, feeling quite proud of myself. True, Professor Zeller hadn’t seen the actual murder. But he had seen a blonde. Which meant Lt. Webb would have to take Heidi’s story seriously.

To atone for the three brownies I’d eaten (okay, four brownies), I made a solemn vow to skip dinner. I made this vow approximately half a block before pulling in to a Burger King and ordering a Whopper to go. I promised myself I’d eat just a few bites, then save the rest for breakfast. Which, incidentally, is one of the many things I like about being single. I can eat a Whopper for breakfast without The Blob lecturing me about healthy eating over his bowl of Froot Loops. Yes, I vowed, as I ordered extra fries, I’d just eat a few teensy bites and save the rest for breakfast.

I bet you think I came home and ate the whole thing in one sitting. No way. Unh-unh. As promised, I took a few bites and put the rest in the refrigerator. Where it sat for a whole thirty seconds before I got it out and snarfed it down, tossing chunks of burger to Prozac who stood yowling at my feet. Yes, I realize that a burger was the last thing I needed after four fudge brownies (okay, five fudge brownies), but I figured I’d just skip breakfast, thus not changing my planned calorie intake one itty bitty calorie.

After fighting Prozac for the last fry (Prozac won), I headed off to the shower. I still couldn’t face the tub, not after what I’d seen yesterday.

Standing there under the hot spray, I realized how exhausted I was. Frankly, I hadn’t slept well last night with Heidi in the bed. It had been ages since I’d shared a bed with another human being (if you consider The Blob human). I’d hovered on my side of the bed, trying not to move, afraid I’d roll over onto Heidi in the middle of the night. After an hour or so of this, I gave up and trudged to the living room, where I slept fitfully on the sofa.

Now I got out of the shower and toweled off, too tired to even consider blow-drying my unruly mop. I took a feeble pass at brushing my teeth, then slipped on my nightgown and headed to bed where I fully intended to spend the night spread-eagled, watching old Lucy re-runs.