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there’s a meeting of the parents of the victims down at the Graysville police station this afternoon. Chief Bradley would like you to go, to reassure the loved ones that we are doing everything possible to find the killer.”
    “Is it a press conference?”
    “No press allowed. Just family. If there were media, do you think the chief would miss the opportunity to grab the spotlight away from the FBI?”
    “Why does he need me, then?”
    “Because you’re one of them.”
    “One of them?”
    “You know, a beauty queen.”
    “Not technically. I was a first runner-up last year.”
    “You know what I mean. You’re beautiful. Their daughters were beautiful. They will relate to you.”
    “I don’t think it works that way.”
    “Those girls are a different breed,” Luke explained.
    “They’re just people,” Flippy said. Luke wasn’t the only person who harbored that misconception about beauty pageant contestants.
    “Beautiful people,” Luke said stubbornly. “Like you.”
    “You think I’m beautiful?” She knew it wasn’t an appropriate time to fish for compliments, in the middle of a murder investigation, but her bruised ego needed reassurance.
    “Well, hell, you know you are,” Luke said angrily. Then he closed up tighter than a clam. A second later he blurted out, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you.”
    “Do I look like I’m having fun? Luke, we’ve got to find this guy. We have to do whatever it takes. I don’t want one more girl to be sacrificed because maybe I missed something. What are we missing?”
    “If we don’t leave now, we’re going to miss the meeting at the station. By the way, Crystal Ball Kate and her husband are going to be there.”
    Flippy’s face lit up. “I can’t wait to meet them. You know, you could learn something from them.”
    Luke sneered. “This case needs more than hocus pocus. We don’t have time to play psychic games. They’re just the flavor of the month. But hey, we don’t have much else to go on. So maybe a little help from the cosmos isn’t such a bad thing. It can’t hurt.” Luke gathered up the photos scattered around Flippy’s desk and replaced them in the manila files before he grabbed Flippy’s hand and led her out of her office.
    “Misty, your boss will be down at the Graysville police station for the rest of the afternoon,” Luke instructed. “You have a file drawer around here with a lock on it? I need you to lock up these photos and the files on Flippy’s desk until we get back.”
    “You can’t order my receptionist around,” Flippy said, frowning.
    “You can order me around anytime, Officer Slaughter,” Misty remarked, tossing her blonde curls and gazing into Luke’s eyes as she angled her body to give him the best view of what she had to offer.
    “In fact, you can take me into custody any time you’d like,” she continued, holding out her hands submissively in front of her and slipping a note into Luke’s back hip pocket.
    “Call me,” she mouthed.
    Flippy twisted her face in exasperation. How her receptionist managed to stuff that shapely body of hers into so little clothing was a mystery. And the blatant flirting? Totally inappropriate in the office. She was going to have to have a serious talk with Misty.
    Luke straightened and made his best effort not to stare at Misty, but he couldn’t help strutting out of the office like a peacock.
    Men. They’re all alike. They are all cheaters. Just like my father.
    When she and Luke left the office, the homeless guys were fast asleep in the bushes, the blankets she had brought them wrapped around their frail bodies, empty beer bottles lined up around them, propped up like a protective glass army. They had been careful to avoid crushing the rosebushes.
    “Jesus, Philippa. You’ve got to get rid of them.”
    “Ssh, they’ll hear you,” she cautioned.
    “They’re passed out,” Luke said. “Dead to the world. Don’t you know anything? Your bleeding heart is going to