All the shows and clubs we’d been to were so overenhanced with digital images and digital music and crazy lighting that it all looked and sounded a bit like the same electronic mix. Something retro might be new, if that made any sense.

His first gig was at Divas at the Linq.

“No point in starting small,” Suzanne said to Char.

We had seen the show one night and it was mind blowing. Frank Marino was the emcee of the best show of female impersonators in Las Vegas. Divas Las Vegas. He was a spectacularly handsome man but a wickedly funny and beautiful Joan Rivers. And he had the widest variety of the most talented impersonators in Las Vegas. What set Char apart was that she wasn’t trying to be Cher. Cher impersonators were a dime a dozen, like Elvis impersonators. Char’s fictitious life as Cher’s long-lost identical sister gave her a creative edge of authenticity over just a regulation female impersonator, if there was such a thing.

And as the day wore on, I couldn’t stop thinking about Holly. What if she was really in trouble? Momma was taking a nap, Char was in rehearsal, so I finally had some free time to call her.

“Holly? I can’t get you out of my mind. Are you okay?”

“Well, until they get the results of the autopsy back, it’s unclear. But it’s not my fault if my bees swarmed her. How could it be? I mean, it’s not like bees take orders.”

We were quiet then, because we both knew she talked to her bees the way other people talk to a therapist.

“It’s not like anyone could prove it,” I said, “even if you did. My sister, the bee whisperer.”

“And there’s no precedent. I checked. I mean, her parents could file a civil suit. You can sue anybody over anything. Here’s the thing: even though this is not my fault, I still need a lawyer.”

“This is some world we live in, isn’t it?”

“Sometimes, it’s a little unbelievable. How’s Momma?”

“She’s having the time of her life. She’s sewing like mad, and laughing all the time with Suzanne, her friend, who’s taking her all over town.”

“Unreal,” Holly said.

“Is there a funeral for Sharon?”

“Not until the coroner releases her body.”

“We want to send flowers,” I said. “Do you know when that might be?”

“Nope. But it was in the Post & Courier this morning. Anytime there’s a police investigation, it’s in the paper.”

“Did the police come to you?”

“I was on a date with the acting chief of police when it happened.”

“You had a date?”

“Yeah. Stranger things have happened. Ted Meyers, a guy I went to high school with. He’s really nice.”

“I might remember him. Holly? Do you need me to come home?” I said.