“Meet the parents!” Billy cried.

Melanie’s mouth had dropped open. “That is really weird.”

“Don’t tell me. There was no third date,” Billy said.

“I don’t think so,” Kit answered, shaking her head.

Regan put the car into drive and slowly moved it forward. “Let’s go down by the East River and make our way around the tip of Manhattan. If Chip is already drugged, she wouldn’t be with him on the streets.” She then stopped the car.

“What’s the matter?” Kit asked.

“I’m going to call that detective in Atlanta and ask him to find out everything Georgina might have told Paulette about her grandmother. Maybe there was a special place in the city they used to go together. Maybe they sat by the river somewhere and watched the boats go by. I can’t believe that wherever she brought Chip tonight doesn’t have some significance.” As Regan put the call through, she couldn’t get the line of the song out of her head.

Only the good die young.

40

L orraine, impatiently waiting on the park bench across from the Treetops Hotel, finally spotted Clay about to go through its front door. She jumped up and started to run across Central Park South. “Clay!”

He stopped and turned. The greeter spotted him and started to open the door of the hotel, a big smile plastered on his face.

“Let’s get away from here!” Lorraine growled.

But it was too late. “Miss Lily!” the greeter said effusively. “Welcome back! There is a radio reporter on the phone speaking to the front desk manager. He had asked to speak to you. He saw you on television before—”

Clay just looked at her. “You were on television before?”

Lorraine fluffed up her hair. “There was a camera crew when I checked in. I’ll be right back.”

Ten minutes later she reappeared. They started down the block, heading west. “What took you so long?” she snapped. “And where is your bicycle?”

“Me! You’re stopping for interviews.”

“How could I refuse? The hotel just lent me these ugly shoes.”

He looked down. “I won’t disagree with you on that.”

Lorraine ignored the remark. “So what happened?”

“I tried to call you.”

“The battery on my phone is dead.”

Clay rolled his eyes. “My roommate’s girlfriend borrowed my bicycle and got a flat tire. I could kill her. I’m so sick of those two. I borrowed a pair of her tap shoes. They were in the bathroom. I thought they’d fit you.”

“Oh sure. Tap shoes. Just what I need to wear when we’re sneaking up the stairwell. Why don’t you borrow a pair in your size, and we can pretend we’re Fred and Ginger?”

“I’m doing my best, Lorraine. You didn’t give me much notice about this job. I also grabbed some of my tools in case your key doesn’t work.”

“Well, that’s good.” At the corner of Sixth Avenue and Central Park South, Lorraine turned her head to the right. The sight of a familiar vehicle caught her eye as it was briefly illuminated by the headlights of an oncoming car. “Oh no!” she cried, and pulled Clay to make the turn down Sixth.