“Maybe when I get back,” she said, dashing up the stairs. “Help yourself to orange juice and whatever.”

Steve looked in the refrigerator. There was an empty orange juice carton and an empty container of milk. There was a plastic bag containing one slice of bread, a box that used to hold English muffins, and there was an empty jelly jar. Kevin, he said to himself.

Daisy thundered down the stairs and flew into the kitchen, strapping herself into a glow-in-the-dark
orange vest. She snatched her keys off the counter and left. “See you in a little bit,” she called to Steve as she whisked out the door.

He heard the car backfire and pull away, and he concluded he was in love with a crazy person. How did all those old people stand her? He could see her rushing into a retirement home, knocking old people over like bowling pins.

He jogged home, got his car, went food shopping at a nearby convenience store, and arrived at Daisy’s house just as she was getting out of her wreck.

“Now can you have breakfast?” he asked her.

“I have to take a shower and get dressed. I have to leave for the station at eight-thirty at the latest.”

Kevin met them in the kitchen. He took the grocery bag from Steve, looked inside, and his face lit up. “Doughnuts!”

Daisy took one upstairs with her. “I can eat one while I shower,” she said.

Steve poured himself a glass of juice. “Is she always like this?” he asked Kevin.

“Pretty much. She’s the family overachiever.” He finished off a doughnut and selected a second. “And she’s a real sucker. If you’ve got a cause, you go to Daisy. She never refuses anybody anything.”

Steve knew differently. She’d refused to go to bed with him this morning.

Chapter 6

After work Steve stepped out of the elevator into the parking garage and took a fast survey of the crowd. Most were people en route to their cars, stopping to gawk for a moment at the police cruisers and the blonde. There didn’t seem to be any unsavory characters around, except for Elsie. She had her big black purse pressed to her chest, obviously ready to pull out her gun at the least provocation.

Daisy was with two policemen. They were a study in stoic concentration in their crisp blue uniforms, perfectly creased, not yet marred by underarm sweat stains. They clearly hadn’t been talking to Daisy for very long, Steve thought. She was waving her hands and rolling her eyes, her blond curls bobbing about in agitation.

He made his way over to the knot of policemen and security guards. “What’s the problem?” he asked.

“You won’t believe what happened!” Daisy said. “Someone’s stolen my car.”