Across the road, Megan appeared, leading eight girls, the mother hen with her chicks, waving at the new girl dawdling at the back. The new girl was watching Tiffany and me, squinting nearsightedly, as if she recognized us, but couldn’t remember from where.

“But Claire was different,” I continued as the girls trooped into a store. “Claire was young, pretty, educated. She was competition.”

“My husband never even met Claire Kennedy.”

“I heard otherwise. If Claire was at that commune, she must have been as vulnerable as Ginny. Cody likes them vulnerable. Makes him feel like a man, apparently. More than you do.”

Her hand flew up to slap me. I caught her by the wrist. She yanked away, twisting to claw the underside of my arm.

“Ow,” I said, frowning at the scratches. “Are your nails clean? Because if I get infected—”

“Stay away from my family or you’ll be sorry.”

“Did you threaten Ginny like this, too? Guess I’ll have to check those autopsy photos for claw marks. Now, if you’ll excuse me ...”

I put out a hand to block the stroller and walked past.

The gossips of Columbus might be an old-fashioned bunch, pointing fingers at the guys when they had a killer on the loose. But between Tiffany and Megan, I was kinda liking the ladies for this one.

TIFFANY DIDN’T LET me get away that easily. She tried to follow as fast as her short legs would carry her. I just sauntered along, letting my stride eat up the sidewalk. Then my cell rang. “Light My Fire.”

“My Jeep needs a new top,” Adam said in greeting.

“Uh-huh. I thought I mentioned this after I was rained on all the way to Seattle.”

I took a seat on a bench outside the post office. Tiffany stopped ten feet away from me, glowering over her stroller.

“I can’t afford one,” Adam said.

“Oh, right, because you had to replace the brakes two months ago, and the transmission the month before that.”

Tiffany finally moved on. I waved good-bye and turned my attention back to Adam.

“You know what you really need?” I said. “A new car, a grown-up vehicle that won’t break down every few months. Time to lose the surfer-boy-mobile.”

“Off road mobile, which I need for lugging around rock-climbing gear and spelunking gear and horseback-riding gear for a certain someone. Love to see you carrying your saddle on that motorcycle.”

“Um, you’re the one who got me into rock-climbing and spelunking because you wanted someone else to drag along. And you love horseback riding. You just hate to admit it because it’s girly. Is this really why you called? Or are you just unbelievably bored?”

“I need an excuse to phone you now? But yes, the point of this call is that I need a new top for my Jeep. I’m thinking beige this time. Easier to keep clean.”