“Apparently the Kingsleys had their carpets cleaned today.”

So far, not exactly earthshattering.

“And guess what the cleaning crew found stuffed away in the back of Heidi’s closet?”

“What?”

“A blond wig.”

Damn.

“Looks like we found our mysterious blonde,” he said.

“Oh, come on. You don’t really think Heidi’s the blonde in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“It doesn’t make sense. Why would she leave the wig in her closet for the cops to find? Why didn’t she just throw it away in a trash can?”

“Maybe she figured we had undercover cops following her round the clock. Which we did.”

Gulp.

“Better tell your client to hold off on her college applications. It looks like she’ll be spending the next four years making license plates.”

He hung up without bothering to say good-bye. I wanted to strangle the guy. He’d already tried and convicted Heidi without the benefit of a jury.

The receiver was still warm when the phone rang again. It was Heidi, her voice choked with tears.

“Oh, Jaine, the most awful thing has happened.”

“I know all about it. I’ll be right over.”

I grabbed my car keys, and hurried out to the Corolla.

By now, of course, you’re probably wondering if maybe Heidi could have done it. True confession: I wondered the same thing. For maybe three seconds. But I knew in my heart the kid was innocent. Anyone could have planted that wig in her closet on the day of SueEllen’s memorial service. All my suspects were there: Larkspur, Ginny, Denise, and Eduardo. Not to mention Hal and Brad. Any one of them could have slipped upstairs, just as I had, without being noticed. Any one of them could have wandered along the hallway till they found Heidi’s hot pink bedroom, and dropped off their incriminating package.

I slogged through rush hour traffic and finally made it to Casa Kingsley.

Conchi opened the door, clutching her Windex bottle to her chest, a security blanket with Ammonia-D. She had that scared rabbit look in her eyes, like maybe she thought the immigration guys had finally caught up with her.

When she saw it was me, she sighed with relief.

“Thank God, it’s you,” she said. “I thought you were the police. Those diablos. They won’t leave my poor Heidi alone.”

She led me to the den, the scene of my famous macadamia nut hunt. Heidi was sitting on the sofa, being comforted by Grandma Kosciusko.

“Hey, kiddo,” I said.

She looked up at me, her face red and blotchy from crying.

“It’s not my wig, Jaine. I swear.”

“I know, honey,” I said, hurrying to her side.

“I don’t know how it got there.”

“Somebody put it there,” I said, “and I’m going to find out who.”

Spoken as if I actually knew what I was doing.

Grandma K’s eyes widened with dismay. “You don’t really think somebody’s trying to frame Heidi for SueEllen’s murder?”

“I’m afraid I do.”

“What sort of monster would do such a thing?”