Clyde appeared in the open doorway. He was wearing a faded Star Trek T-shirt and new black jeans that were pooled around his ankles. Scruffy sneakers peaked out from under the jeans. He had a can of Dr Pepper in one hand and a bag of Cheez Doodles in the other. He had a Betty Boop tattoo on his chunky left arm.

“Hey, Stephanie Plum,” Clyde said. “I was taking a break and I heard you were here. What’s up? Anything exciting going on? Did you find Samuel Singh?”

“I haven’t found Singh, but I’m working on it.” My eyes strayed to Betty Boop.

Clyde grinned and looked down at Betty. “It’s a fake. I got it last night. I’m too chicken to get a real one.”

“Stephanie has a list of people she’d like to talk to,” Andrew said. “Do you have time to take her around?”

“You bet. Sure I do. Is this part of the investigation? How do you want me to act? Should I be casual?”

“Yeah,” I said. “You should be casual.”

Clyde reminded me a lot of Bob with the unruly hair and goofy enthusiasm.

“These are all Susans,” Clyde said, looking at the list. “That’s a lead, right? Some woman named Susan knows where Singh is hiding. Or maybe some woman named Susan bumped Singh off! Am I close? Am I getting warm?”

“It’s nothing that dramatic,” I told Clyde. “It was just a name that popped up as a possible friend.”

“I know all these women,” Clyde said, leading me out of Andrew’s office. “I can tell you all about them. The first Susan is real nice. She has two kids and a beagle. And the beagle’s always at the vet. I think her whole paycheck goes to the vet. The dog eats everything. One time he was real sick and they x-rayed him and found out he had a stomach full of loose change. Her husband works here, too. He’s in shipping. They live in Ewing. They just bought a house there. I haven’t seen the house, but I think it’s one of those little tract houses.”

Clyde was right about the first Susan. She was very nice. But she only knew Singh from a distance. And the same was true for the other four Susans. And I believed them all. None of the Susans seemed like girlfriend material. None of them looked like sharpshooters or killers. They all looked like they might send roses and carnations.

“Those are all the Susans,” Clyde said. “None of them worked out, huh? Do you have any other leads? Any clues we could work on next?”

“Nope. That’s it for now.”

“How about lunch?”

“Gee, sorry. I have a friend waiting for me in the parking lot.” Thank God.

“I’m a pretty interesting guy, you know,” he said. “I have a lot going on.” His eyes got round. “You haven’t seen my office yet. You have to see my office.”

I glanced at my watch. “It’s getting late . . .”