A younger couple passed her next. They were arguing about the money the woman had spent on the decorations for their son’s first birthday party. Neither of them even looked her way. From the huge diamond on the woman’s finger, Mitzi would guess that the woman had worn a designer dress. The wedding had been huge, and then she found out that the man had spent all his money on the ring. The woman thought she was getting the lifestyle of the rich and famous, and then she realized that they were living on a shoestring and he still owed four years of payments on the ring.

The perfect dress, she thought. We’re in business to provide the perfect dress. Too bad it doesn’t always mean that we can guarantee that dress will bring them a wonderful life full of rainbows and unicorns.

She had no idea what Graham would be driving, but when she looked up and saw him getting out of an older-model pickup truck, she wasn’t surprised. It fit him more than a fancy new Caddy. He waved with one hand and lifted a four-cup holder in her direction. She couldn’t see anyone around him and wondered why he’d have four cups and not just two. Would someone else be joining them? If so, why?

“Good afternoon.” Graham sat down on the other end of the bench and put the drinks between him and Mitzi. “I got two iced teas for you. One for now and one for you to have on the trip back to Celeste. It’s good to see you, Mitzi.”

“Good to see you, too, and thank you for the teas.” She picked one up and took a long sip through the straw, relief washing over her because they would be alone. “You look tired. How’s your day been going?”

“Good in some ways. Had a meeting with the CPA about quarterly taxes, and everything about the business is stable and growing. But not so wonderful in others.” He took a coffee from the holder and sipped it. “Rita came to the office again. She’s like a wart. Just when I think I’m finished with her, she shows up again. What do you suggest I do?”

“Go to the doctor and have it surgically removed.” Mitzi wasn’t sure at that moment whether she was his girlfriend, his friend, or his therapist.

“How do you do that?”

“Shoot her, I guess,” Mitzi said. “I don’t think wart remover comes in a big enough bottle.”

His eyes widened and he set his coffee down, stood up, and extended a hand to her. She wasn’t surprised at the vibes between them as he pulled her to her feet and hugged her tightly. “You are a genius.”

“I didn’t mean it,” she gasped. “If you really try to kill Rita, then she’ll get the girls and . . .”