“A mere technicality. The fact is, in the battle of wills, I finally scored a victory over Prozac.”

“Well, congratulations,” Lance conceded, clunking my coffee container in a toast. “Here’s to Jaine, the Conqueror. Although I must say, Prozac doesn’t look any thinner.”

“That’s because she just started eating healthy. I’m sure we’ll be able to see the difference any day now.”

Lance took a sip of his coffee and got down to the real reason for his visit.

“So. Did you mention me to Colin?”

“Trust me. You don’t want to meet him. He’s got lime green walls, a parrot who thinks he’s a car alarm, and possible homicidal tendencies.”

“He also happens to have cheekbones to die for. I’ll take my chances. Just set me up with him, all right?”

“I don’t know, Lance. I feel funny about it.”

He grabbed the bag of muffins.

“Fix me up, or you don’t get any more muffins.”

“For crying out loud, if you think I’d sacrifice your safety for a lousy corn muffin—”

“Slathered with butter and strawberry jam,” he reminded me.

“Okay, okay,” I said, snatching the bag from him. “I’ll do it.”

One and a half muffins later (okay, two muffins), I was walking Lance to the door when the phone rang.

It was, of all people, Colin.

“I went to the reading of Marybeth’s will yesterday,” he said. “Meet me for lunch and I’ll tell you all about it.”

I could hear Max in the background, doing his ear-splitting rendition of a car alarm.

“How about the Earth Café?” I suggested. “One o’clock?”

“Great. See you then.”

“Was that Colin?” Lance asked when I hung up.

“How did you know?”

“I heard a parrot impersonating a car alarm in the background.”

I wasn’t surprised he’d heard Max. The man can hear hair dryers blowing in Pomona.

“Yes, that was Colin.”

“So you’ll tell him about me?”

I reluctantly agreed to play cupid, and Lance left to get ready for work.

I still couldn’t believe he wanted to meet Colin. Lance is a guy who’ll pore over 37 articles in Consumer Reports before buying a toaster, and here he was ready to leap headlong into a relationship with a potential murderer without a second thought.

First Daddy, now Lance. Men are impossible, n’est-ce pas?

But I didn’t have time to ponder the nutty nature of the male Homo sapiens, not while there was a killer on the loose.

I put in a call to Doris, but she wasn’t home. Ashley, however, picked up on the first ring. I explained that I was looking into Marybeth’s death and asked if I could come over to talk to her.