Lula and I left the building and hustled to my car. It was freezing cold, and we walked with our heads tucked down against the wind.

"Now what?" Lula wanted to know.

I slid behind the wheel and pulled another file out of the envelope. "I have more."

Lula picked a doughnut out of the bag. "Me, too."

"Yesterday you told me you were going on a diet."

"Yeah, but it's something new. It's called the afternoon diet. You get to eat all you want until noon. Then the diet starts."

"Next up is Gary Martin. Runs a vet clinic on Route 1. Never been married. Looks like a nice guy." I passed his picture to Lula.

"He looks like a dork," Lula said. "He's wearing a bow tie, and he's got a comb-over. He don't need a matchmaker. He needs a woman with scissors."

I put the car in gear and rolled out of the lot. "According to Annie's file, he needs help getting his girlfriend back."

"And we're gonna help him? Excuse me if I'm a skeptic, but it don't seem to me we're all that good at relationships. I only date losers, and you have commitment issues. Plus, you can't even make up your mind about who you want as your commitment recipient. You're double-dipping with Morelli and Ranger."

"I'm not double-dipping."

"You're mentally double-dipping."

"That doesn't count. Everyone mentally double-dips. Keep your eyes open for Municipal Animal Hospital."

The Municipal Animal Hospital waiting room was bright and cheery and sparkling clean. And it was empty of patients. A young woman sat behind the big wraparound desk. She was also sparkling clean, but she didn't look all that cheery.

"Yo," Lula said to her. "I'm Lula, and this here's the world-famous Stephanie Plum, and we're looking for Gary Martin."

"He's in surgery," the woman said. "Office hours start at one o'clock."

"Maybe he could squeeze us in between surgeries," Lula said. "It's a personal matter."

"Dr. Martin doesn't like to be disturbed when he's in surgery."

"See, here's the thing," Lula said. "I got a doughnut with my name on it out in the car, and I don't want to sit around until one o'clock. I mean, it's not like ol' Gary's doing open heart. He's cutting the balls off a cat, right?"

I pointed stiff-armed to the door. "Out," I said to Lula.

"Just trying to communicate with Miss Stick-up-her-ass," Lula said.

"Out!"

I waited until Lula left, and then I turned to the receptionist. "Maybe I could leave a note for Dr. Martin."

There was a long awkward pause, and I assumed the receptionist was contemplating hitting the police button on the security system… or at the very least unleashing Dobermans from a holding pen. This was a vet office. They had dogs, right?

Finally, the woman exhaled and slid a pad and pen my way. "I guess that would be okay," she said.

I was halfway through the note when Gary Martin emerged from a back room and approached the receptionist.