Minutes later, the phone rang yet again. I picked it up listlessly, certain it was my parents. Oh, well. Who cared if they moved in with me and made me wear my retainer for the rest of my life? I’d totally lost the will to live.

But it was Andrew again.

“Look, Jaine. I thought it over and I’m prepared to hold the job open for the next few weeks, in case the police make an arrest and the case is cleared up.”

At last, a ray of sunshine. Maybe life wasn’t so bad after all.

I thanked him profusely and assured him that the whole matter would be cleared up in no time. I hung up, feeling a lot better. Certainly the cops would find the killer in a few weeks.

But just in case they didn’t, I intended to do it myself.

Chapter 13

Yes, I’d made up my mind to find Marybeth’s killer. I’d start my investigation right then and there. First thing I needed was a list of the club members’ addresses and phone numbers. So I got on the phone and called Pam.

“Can you believe the nerve of the Times running our pictures like that?” she said when she heard my voice. “I may never work in showbiz again. Not that I’m working now. But it’s the principle of the thing.”

“At least they ran a nice photo of you.”

“It’s a publicity still from Hedda Gabler. I’m lucky they didn’t run a shot of me as Felix Unger.”

We both laughed hollow laughs.

“What are we going to do, Jaine? The publicity is just awful.”

“Try not to worry. As soon as the police find the killer, we’ll be off the hook.”

“But what if they don’t find the killer? What if it takes forever? These things can drag out for months, even years.”

“Actually, that’s why I’m calling.”

I told her about my part-time career as a private eye, and how I was going to investigate the murder.

“Wow,” she said, “I never would have figured you for a detective. You don’t seem the type.”

“I know I seem like a sniveling weakling—and I am—but somehow, the endorphins kick in when I’m involved in an investigation.”

“Really? I’m a congenital coward myself. But if there’s anything I can do to help—”

“As a matter of fact, there is. Can you fax me the addresses and phone numbers of the club members?”

“Of course. Anything else you need?”

“Not right now. Not unless you happen to know who did it.”

“Nope,” she sighed. “If you ask me, the only person capable of murder in the PMS Club was Marybeth.”

I had to agree with her on that one.