Halcyon, who’d had a talent for painting, singing, and acting, had attended art school in New Orleans after high school. Marina had always hoped her sister would find a way to pursue some sort of career in the arts, but she’d never made a move in that direction. She ran the local theater group, but that was strictly volunteer. Last Chance didn’t have the budget to pay someone and the work was only seasonal, when they were either preparing for or doing a production.

“A friend of mine maybe?” Halcyon suggested. “Looking for a family heirloom for her grandmother?”

“That could work. Can we make the grandmother ill?”

“We can put her on her deathbed if you think it would help. I have no qualms about killing off a made-up person. I just won’t play that game with real people.”

“Superstitious?”

“Bet your ass I am. This is Louisiana. You don’t go around wishing people dead here unless you mean it.”

“You do it all the time.”

Halcyon gave her a pointed look.

“Okay, then we’ll go with your friend’s half-dead grandma, but be prepared to improv in case Dottie asks.”

“Improv is how I live.”

“True. Now, for the next problem—even if we locate the ring with Dottie or with someone else, I still have to acquire it. I’m not going to steal it, which means I need cash. And since two-thirds of my bank account balance just went to our illustrious judicial system, I might be running short on funds for a ruby of that size.”

“I’ve got some investments,” Halcyon said. “But it would take at least a week to get them converted. I’ve got maybe a thousand in my checking until I get my next round of alimony checks.”

“I’m not going to take your money.”

“Why the hell not? I can’t use it if I’m dead. Besides, you can pay me back with that super support custom bra, remember?”

“But will it be enough?” Marina asked. “I figure a ruby that big is going to cost serious money and then if it’s someone’s heirloom, we’ll probably have to offer even more than market to get them to part with it. And as much as I hate to think about it, I’ve got five thousand in my checking account and zero job. If I don’t find the ring and the world doesn’t end, things aren’t looking good for me.”

“You need cash and you need it fast. I have an awesome idea.”

“What?”

“You sell beauty cream for an incredibly ridiculous price.”

“And just how would I manage that? I can’t whip up some awesome beauty cream that actually works and get it packaged and up for sale in a matter of days. And wouldn’t the FDA or some other government pay-us-kickbacks sort of entity have a problem with that?”

“You don’t have to go through production and the FDA is not lurking in the bushes in Last Chance. What we do is get the cheapest crap we can find at the drugstore and you stick a little in a tiny plastic container. Then you schedule one-on-one appointments with people, claiming you make the formula specifically for them. When you apply the cheap lotion, you swipe your fingers across their wrinkles and voila!”