“Thank you,” Bobo said, with considerable dignity. “Excuse me. I have to . . . I have to go do something.” And he vanished. Manfred scooted out of the pawnshop as fast as he could, to leave Bobo alone to grieve. And maybe to recover a little.

• • •

Two people from Midnight decided to attend the funeral: Fiji and Creek.

“I must be some kind of masochist,” Fiji said to Mr. Snuggly as she got dressed for the service. The cat, who didn’t often engage in conversation, looked at her as if he agreed completely. “First I make sure Manfred tells Bobo that Aubrey really loooooved him. Now I feel like I have to go to the damn funeral. To be his eyes and ears. You know what, Snug? I could almost not go and pretend I had. All funerals are alike, right? Aubrey’s funeral won’t be different from any other.” At least Creek was going with her. She’d have someone to talk to on the drive.

The service was being held in a town an hour’s drive past Marthasville, in a largish place called Buffalo Plain. When Fiji pulled up to Gas N Go, Creek came out wearing a black short-sleeved dress and carrying a white cardigan. Creek’s only jewelry was a large silver and turquoise cross. The simplicity suited her.

Everyone has a style but me, Fiji thought glumly. When she pulled on things she liked, Fiji was pleased with how she looked, but today she’d felt obliged to give her clothes quite a bit of thought. Black would be hypocritical, but she hadn’t wanted to offend Aubrey’s (presumably grieving) family by wearing something inappropriate, either. Dark brown pants and good shoes with medium heels had been her compromise, with a long-sleeved green sweater and the good gold chain and earrings she wore when she was dressed up. She’d worked on her hopeless hair a bit, but she caught Creek looking at her head in a startled way. Fiji felt like sighing. There were those to whom style came naturally, and those who didn’t have a clue.

Fiji was sadly aware she was one of the latter.

She and Creek got along well enough on the drive. At first, they talked about Halloween and the upcoming decorating party. Fiji would be preparing her house for the holiday, and anyone who wanted could come over to help. This was the third year in a row Fiji had held an open house on October 31. And no matter when the schools or city fathers decreed children should go trick-or-treating, Fiji celebrated on the calendar day. After they’d discussed the plans for this year, an awkward silence fell. At least, Fiji thought it felt awkward.