This story started here.

The club was called the Quarter, and Katherine had her own seat there (by custom if not by law, as Pete always said).

The place was run-down and decrepit, even by the standards of U-town. It was a long, thin room with a bar along one wall and small round tables, with a small stage in the back. The floor was uneven – some areas were a few inches higher than others. One way to tell the regulars from the tourists (and Pete and his friends were always devising new ways to do that) was that the tourists were always tripping over the floor, even when they were sober.

When Katherine came here with Pete they sat at a table, usually with a collection of Pete's friends, most of whom were slowly getting used to her. However, when his band was playing she sat in a corner, on a little shelf that was part of the wooden frame that supported one of the PA speakers. The shelf was part of the frame – it wasn't intended as a seat, but it served the purpose. She didn't want to sit at a table by herself, because then it would be all too obvious that nobody wanted to sit with her.

Frances was the manager of the club, and she occasionally popped over to give Katherine another free beer. Frances liked Katherine because Frances had an idea that they both hated Jenny Owens. Frances actually did hate her, because Philip Henshaw, the leader of Pete's band, had dumped Frances when he'd decided to go after Jenny (and take her away from Tom Drenkenson, who was also in the band).

Katherine didn't hate Jenny, but she didn't like her very much either.

"She and Henshaw went out through the back a while ago," Frances said, "for a walk or something. Probably they'll have another fist fight."

"She," Katherine thought. Frances didn't want to even say Jenny's name. It was like being back in high school.

Thinking about the soap opera the band was turning into was annoying, so she started to think about Daphne instead. Katherine liked Daphne, now that she was starting to get used to her. A couple of times, when Pete was out, Daphne had come over and sat down with Katherine and they'd talked.

Katherine appreciated that, unlike Pete's friends and band-mates, Daphne had accepted her immediately when she'd moved in, with no sign of fear. Occasionally, Katherine woke up in the middle of the night and found Daphne sharing their bed.

It had been a long time since Katherine had shared a bed with anyone, and even now she sometimes had to sleep across the room by herself. But she was surprised at how easily she had got used to falling asleep with one person and waking up with two.

The first time it had happened Katherine had been alarmed, thinking that something sexual might be about to happen, but it never did. Daphne had a very active sex life, but she apparently had no interest in Katherine or Pete.

Daphne sometimes went to the Quarter with Pete and Katherine, and she usually seemed to have a good time (and a surprising number of the other patrons seemed too know her). But she never went to any club if there was going to be a band playing – Pete had explained that dogs don't like loud music, because of their sensitive hearing.

Katherine sipped her beer and lit a cigarette. She kept thinking that somewhere, in one of her psychology books, she'd encounter an explanation for Daphne, but so far she hadn't. But, of course, Daphne wasn't actually crazy.

Katherine hadn't been sure, at first, but now she was. Not that she understood Daphne, but she knew that she didn't really think she was a dog. And neither did Pete. And they definitely weren't sleeping together.

It had taken a while, though, for Katherine to really believe that Pete and Daphne had never been lovers. They were both straight (well, Daphne clearly went both ways), but they had settled into a weird sort of nonsexual intimacy that Katherine was pretty sure wouldn't show up in any of her books.

It was a common sight in the evenings for Pete to be reading, or drawing his comics, or practicing his bass, with Daphne curled up at his feet, sometimes reading a book of her own. Sometimes she sat up and leaned against his leg, and he patted or stroked her head, apparently not even aware that he was doing it.

A couple of times, when she'd been upset about something, she'd even climbed into his lap to be comforted, and Katherine had to work to keep a straight face, since Daphne was larger than Pete and looked like she might crush him.

 
Katherine didn't always come to see Pete's gigs. He didn't expect her to, so she went or not, depending on how she felt.

But this was not a typical gig. For one thing, she thought that it was probably going to be the last one. Already Tom had quit the band once and then come back. She was sure he'd soon be gone for good, and she even wondered if he might decide not to show up tonight at all.

She wanted to be there for Pete, if he needed moral support. She was still feeling her way around this idea of a relationship – it had been a very long time for her – but she knew moral support was usually part of it.

More importantly, she also thought there might be violence. It was just a hunch, nothing specific, but there was a lot of tension.

Tom came in and brushed past Katherine, heading toward the tiny dressing room behind the stage. He was carrying his guitar case. He looked gloomy, but that was normal for him. Well, at least he was here.

There was a murmur by the area of the door, and Katherine turned to look.

Several members of the Jinx, a local motorcycle gang, had just come in. Katherine knew that the small, dark-haired woman in the lead was Dr. Lee, the head of the gang. The Jinx were known to be fans of Kingdom Come, or at least Dr. Lee was, but they didn't usually show up en masse for the band's gigs. Maybe they were also thinking that tonight could be the last gig for the band, or maybe they were expecting trouble, as Katherine was.

"Hi, Kat."

Katherine found it annoying that Neil, Dr. Lee's bodyguard, still called her "Kat," but she didn't know how to stop it. If she told him to stop, he'd make an elaborate show out of stopping, which would be unpleasant. And she couldn't threaten him – he was Jinx, after all, and he was Dr. Lee's bodyguard besides. He couldn't be intimidated.

She took a sip of her beer, looked around slowly, and said, "Hi."

Then, as she waited to see if Neil had anything else to say for himself, he noticed that Dr. Lee was going back toward the dressing room, and he quickly hustled after her.

Katherine smiled. Duty trumped conversation. She was glad about that.

A few minutes later, Katherine saw Henshaw come back in, and Frances' half-joke had been right. His face was bruised, and he was limping – although, knowing him, he was probably exaggerating that part. He was very aware of the effect of his gaunt figure, his long coats and black clothes, and his hawk-like face. A limp was a plus, really. Very dramatic.

Then, very quickly, the house lights went down, the jukebox was turned off, and Kingdom Come took the stage.

It was interesting to Katherine how a band with this much personal disunity could still play so well together. Loud, fast, aggressive – the guitar parts fitting together so tightly that it sometimes seemed odd, given that the two musicians despised each other. But maybe this was carrying out their personal arguments by other means. Maybe, for the moment at least, it was helping.

Katherine saw Jenny Owens, standing by the side of the stage, leaning forward intently as the band careened from one song into the next. She held a beer bottle loosely in her hand. Her entire attention was apparently focused on Henshaw. Katherine thought that Jenny might attack him in some way, but Katherine didn't care what happened to him.

If Jenny moved toward Pete, though, Katherine planned to shoot her in the head. With the rest of the audience sitting down, it would be a nice clear shot. Nobody ever stood up to dance at the Quarter – they just bounced around in their seats ("chair-dancing," as Pete always called it).

Then, with no warning, Jenny smashed her beer bottle against the edge of the stage and lunged for Henshaw. Katherine stood immediately, her revolver in her hand, but Pete didn't seem to be in any danger.

After a few moments, she holstered her gun, but she remained standing. Pete had put his bass down and gone to Henshaw's side, helping to support him. Henshaw had been holding onto the microphone stand, but both he and it were about to fall to the stage. Katherine could see the blood starting to run down his pants.

Drenkenson was watching all of this with no expression, his arms folded.

Jenny, recovering from her apparent shock at what she had done, reached for Henshaw, but she was grabbed from behind by CJ of the Jinx. CJ was the largest woman Katherine had ever met, and she held Jenny with no apparent effort as Neil barked orders.

The crowd was somewhat disorganized, not helped by the fact that many of them were drunk. Some were moving toward the exit, including a few who seemed to be trying to seize the opportunity to sneak out without paying. Some had stood up and were backing away, but obviously they hadn't decided yet whether to stay or go. And some of the people sitting closest to Katherine had moved away quickly when she'd stood up with her gun in her hand.

Some of the people were remaining in place, too, either pretending that nothing had happened or watching events with rapt attention. After all, Katherine reflected, Kingdom Come were local celebrities. This story would be all over town by morning.

The Jinx had gone into motion with military efficiency, as usual. They'd taken Henshaw out quickly, someone already binding his leg with a bandanna as others carried him.

CJ tossed Jenny away and moved toward the door.

Pete was trailing out after the Jinx, but then he'd frowned and glanced at Katherine. She'd nodded and he'd gone out, following the others.

Katherine moved to the stage and climbed up. Even in the emergency Pete had taken care of his bass, carefully leaning it where it wouldn't fall. She pulled the case out from behind the amplifier, opened it up, and placed the bass in it, after carefully wiping off the sweat. She coiled the cord and put it in the little compartment where it belonged. Then she noticed Jenny getting to her feet.

Katherine put a hand on Jenny's shoulder. "If you go to the hospital, the Jinx will beat you senseless."

Jenny shook off her hand. "Fuck you! I–"

Katherine slammed her down on the edge of the stage, her legs hanging over the edge, and pulled her revolver. "No yelling," she said quietly. "I think you and I should have a drink together. Sit down at that table."

Jenny complied, and Katherine climbed down to sit with her. She looked around, but Frances' stony expression said that she wasn't about to serve them.

"Donna," Katherine called, and Donna the waitress came over.

"And what would you ladies like?" she asked, cocking her head and raising one eyebrow.

"Two beers," Katherine said. She tilted her head and Donna leaned closer. "And don't let Frances do anything unpleasant in them, either," she whispered.

Donna winked. "Nobody pees in the drinks I serve except me, and that's only for lousy tippers. Keep that in mind and you'll be fine."

She turned as somebody managed to get the jukebox going again, so she was able to walk away with a rhythm that highlighted how very short and tight her skirt was.

Katherine turned to Jenny. "We should talk."

This story started here.

"Do you think that it's true, as some people say, that most men fall asleep right after coitus and most women don't?"

Priscilla's eyes opened and she looked around, confused. Angel was standing beside the bed, holding a tall candle in a very fancy looking holder. The bedroom was dark except for the candlelight. There was no sign of Stephanie.

"I don't–"

"It is certainly true of Mr. Gerard and myself," Angel continued. Her voice was still somewhat dreamy. "He fell asleep a little while ago, and I lay there and started thinking. It occurred to me that I had perhaps been a little too casual about finding you in my bathroom last night." She looked at Priscilla for the first time. "May I sit down?"

Priscilla looked around for a chair, but Angel put the candlestick on the windowsill and sat on the narrow bed next to her. Priscilla had noticed that Angel's nightgown and robe were equally filmy, and she was seeing almost as much of the other woman's body as she had in the bathroom. Was this a pass? It didn't feel like one, but Priscilla was glad she was wearing particularly unattractive pajamas.

"First of all, do you know why Stephanie went out after she brought you here?"

"Yes," Priscilla said. "I mean–"

"So do I, so we don't need to be evasive about that. Are you and she a couple?"

"No!" Priscilla said. "Just because we–"

Angel turned, her eyes meeting Priscilla's, and suddenly Priscilla found that she couldn't speak.

"I am sorry," Angel said softly. "I intended no disrespect. Why did that question get you upset?"

"My stepmother," Priscilla started. "She... we don't get along. She thought I was a... that I was boy crazy. Then I cut my hair, just on an impulse, and she said, 'Oh my God, I knew it, you're a dyke!'" Priscilla felt her heart pounding. Why was she telling this woman all this? "That's when I knew I had to get out of there. I mean..."

Angel nodded and touched her forehead. "Relax," she whispered, and Priscilla did, sinking back on the bed. "I'm sorry," Angel said. "That's when you knew that she would be against you, no matter what you did."

Priscilla nodded.

"So, what did you do?"

"I decided to come to try to go to college here – in the city – and maybe I could live with Steph. And never go back home."

Angel smiled. "So, you're hoping to take up residence here. In my house."

"Well, I didn't know where she lived when..."

Angel smiled. "Go back to sleep," she said as she stood up, and the next thing Priscilla knew it was morning.

 
Priscilla came back into the bedroom wrapped in a towel and drying her hair. "No wonder you wanted to shower first," she said. "The hot water..."

She stopped as Stephanie held up her hand, pointing at the open door to the hall with her other hand. They heard the knock at the front door again, and then, a moment later, they heard the door open and Angel said, "Miss Sleet. This is becoming a regular occurrence. Is there a chance that this is a social call for a change?"

They couldn't hear Jan Sleet's reply, but a moment later they heard the front door close, and then footsteps going into the kitchen.

"Is this about Mr. Gerard again?" Angel asked, her voice cold. "I don't think I am in a mood to answer any more questions about him. Or anything else."

"I'm not here to ask questions," the detective said, and they heard a chair scrape on the floor. "I am here to say something, about my daughter."

There was a pause, then Angel said, "That grubby little urchin you've adopted? What does she have to do with me?"

"She had a visit in school yesterday, from a woman named Terry Nelson. She was pretending to be the new civics teacher, but that was a lie. This is very alarming, and it must not happen again."

There was a longer pause, and then Angel said in a quieter voice, "Why is this alarming, and, as I asked before, what does it have to do with me?"

The girls, who had tiptoed to the top of the stairs by then, heard another chair move, as if Angel had sat down also.

"This woman, Terry Nelson, has been known to... She is unstable, and–"

They heard a third woman's voice, deeper and more commanding than Angel's. "My sister is not dangerous. The only violence she has ever done was to herself, as you know. And, as you also know, she really is a teacher."

"Tammy," Jan said, her voice resigned.

Priscilla looked a question to Stephanie, who shook her head.

"The point," Jan said slowly, "is this. If Terry wants to see my daughter..." There was a long pause. "...her granddaughter, she would be more than welcome to come and have dinner with us. We would enjoy that. And if she wants to become a teacher... to really teach at our school, there's a process for that as well."

 
"Okay, what was that all about? Who is this Tammy woman?" She saw Stephanie's expression. "Stop making faces. I will add this to the growing list of secrets that I will carry to my grave. I..."

"This isn't a joke, Pris. If people learn who I am and where I live, I could be killed. I... I'm under a lot of pressure here, with running the store, and Mr. Drenkenson, and..."

The tears came, and Priscilla hugged her.

"I'm sorry," Priscilla said finally. "Here I'm hoping to come live with you, and all I can do is piss you off."

Stephanie looked up, wiping her tears with her sleeve. "What?"

"Never mind. Tell me about Tammy. I promise not to tell anybody."

"She is Angel. They're the same person. And I guess there's a Terry, too."

"So, she's crazy?" Priscilla whispered.

"I don't know." She smiled ruefully, wiping her eyes again. "Damn it, Pris. I'm a superhero, not a doctor."

Priscilla rolled her eyes. "Idiot."

"But she is apparently several different people, at least. And she is Jan Sleet's mother."

Priscilla digested this. "I guess they're not close."

"I think Jan's close with her father. He's here to visit her. Oh, I didn't tell you that. Professor Vinnie, who we ate dinner with last night? He's her father. Jan Sleet's father."

"The guy with the dog?" She grinned suddenly. "Did he get Daphne at your store?"

Stephanie laughed. "No, we don't sell that breed."

"Is everybody weird here? And don't tell me you're not." She gestured at the hooks along the wall where the parts of Stephanie's superhero costume were hanging up and drying.

"Yeah. Every one of us. You'll fit in fine. Come on, we should get going. I want to show you how to work the cash register before we open."

"Wait. What?"

 
Stephanie unlocked the door of the pet store, and three dogs ran up from the back of the store and surrounded her, barking and jumping up and down. Several puppies in cages started barking also.

She laughed as she squatted and petted the dogs. "Time for their walk, I'd say," she said. "You get to do that while I do the other cleaning up."

"I'm thinking of starting a union."

"Oh, come on. Would you rather be on poo patrol?"

"I don't know what that is, but I'm saying no."

Stephanie took a leash from a hook on the wall. It had one end for the person to hold, and several clips at the other end, which she started to attach to the dogs' collars.

"Do I get benefits at this job?"

Stephanie gestured at the paper bag on the counter, which contained two cups of coffee and two muffins.

"Breakfast is a benefit," she said.

"Well, it's not really..." She pointed at one of the animals Stephanie was attaching to the leash. "That's a cat."

"Oh, good. You'll work out well here."

Priscilla made a face. "You're walking a cat?"

Stephanie shrugged as she handed the end of the leash to her friend. "No, you're walking her. She likes it."

 
"So," Stephanie said as they had their coffee and muffins, "what is the plan? Why do you get all evasive when I ask how long you're planning to be visiting?"

"Well..."

Stephanie sighed. "I always get nervous when you get weird. So, you want to go to college in the city, live with me, and work here. Right?"

"Um. Well, kind of." Stephanie just waited. "Okay, yes, pretty much that. I promise I won't reveal any of your secrets, or how weird your roommates are, or... anything like that. And I promise not to pester you about coming along with you when you go out superheroing."

"Don't worry. I don't think you're sidekick material. Well, I guess I should show you around the store. Come on."

 
Priscilla got up on her tiptoes and looked out the window of the office. "What's out there?"

Stephanie shrugged. "The back yard, obviously."

"Who does that belong to?"

"I'm not sure it 'belongs' to anybody." She looked out also. "Doesn't look like anybody is using it for anything." She sniffed. "Except garbage."

"How do you get back there?"

"Why would you want to? It's a mess, and it smells even worse."

"Well, I thought maybe we could..." She caught her friend's sudden frown. "What?"

Stephanie closed the window. "Come on."

She led Priscilla out the front door of the store, around to the side and down a garbage-strewn alley, and into the rear yard.

Priscilla's eyes widened and she held her hand over her nose and mouth. "That's–"

Stephanie pulled a bandanna out of her pocket. "Run inside and soak this in the sink. Then hand it to me out the window."

"But what–"

"Hurry up. I know what that smell is." She pointed at the low metal doors. "And it's coming from the basement. It may be a dead rat, but I doubt it. Hurry up. And get me the ring of keys that's hanging by the door to the bathroom."

 
to be continued...

This story started here.

Stephanie sighed as Vinnie and Daphne left. She considered closing the store early, but she really wanted to think everything through before she acted. And she needed to make some sales, too. That morning she'd received the weekly shipment of pet food, which she'd paid for in cash, so she was pretty broke.

It had been the first time she'd gone to the bridge in the early morning to get the deliveries alone. Standing around with all the other people from area shops and restaurants, she suddenly felt one step closer to owning the store.

She had to think about whether she should try to get some part-time help. How was she even supposed to figure out whether she could afford to hire somebody? But that was not the main area where she wished she had help.

She wished she had somebody to review cases with. When she was young, she'd seen her father talking things through with his deputies when he had questions. And, as she grew up, more and more often she had been included in those discussions as well.

Ordinarily, if she was really stuck she could go talk to Miss Sleet, but that wouldn't be possible now.

And sometimes she ran through cases with Angel, who was polite enough to listen and comment even when she obviously didn't care all that much.

But Stephanie definitely couldn't talk to Angel about this, because the thing that Stephanie knew, the thing that Vinnie had wanted to know but hadn't been able to figure out how to force her to reveal, was that Angel Valentine was actually Jan Sleet's mother.

So, if the case was too close to home for the great detective, well, it was pretty close to home for Stephanie, too.

But Stevie One was not going to risk letting a murderer go free just because it might be somebody she cared about. That was not how she had been raised and trained, and she had a responsibility as U-town's protector.

The rest of the afternoon was pretty busy as several of her steady customers came in for their pet food orders and other needs. They knew what day the shipments came in, and she'd pre-packed the orders for her regulars and lined them up neatly on the counter. As Mr. Drenkenson had always told her, it was great when somebody bought a kitten or a puppy, but the backbone of the business was the regular customers for supplies like pet food.

But then it was time to close, and as she turned off the lights and locked the store she realized how hungry she was. She knew she should get going on the case, but she still had no idea what to do, so a meal seemed like a good idea. If she went home and Larry and Angel were eating they would usually invite her to join them, but she needed to think everything through before she saw them.

She had some cash, but she didn't want to spend any more than she had to until she had a firmer handle on the store's finances, so she planned to go to her usual Chinese takeout place. It was tiny, in a small basement storefront, and Angel had said it was the most unhealthy looking place she'd ever seen. But the food was edible, at least by Stephanie's standards, and very cheap.

"Steph!"

Stephanie turned and stood motionless, the key still in her hand, surprised and amazed as her friend Priscilla ran up and hugged her.

After a moment, she hugged back.

"When... Why didn't..."

"When did I get here? This afternoon. Why didn't I call?"

"Because we don't have phones."

"How did I find you? I asked around when I got over the bridge. People told me to go to the hotel, and there was this weird bald kid there who told me to come here."

"Why–"

Priscilla shook her head. "I have a question for you. When can we eat, and when can I sit down? I've been walking for hours." She arched an eyebrow. "Unless you have plans for tonight? Like a date..."

Stephanie hugged her again. "You'd be a priority over any date I could have. Which I don't have anyway."

Priscilla grinned and whispered, "I don't imagine you have much time for dating, what with being a superhero and all." She pulled back and said, "So, where are we going to eat?"

Stephanie stood stock still, telling her suddenly-aching stomach that she trusted Pris completely, including about secrets even more important than this one.

"Uh," she said.

Priscilla waited (it would not be completely accurate to say that she waited "patiently").

Stephanie stood up straighter. "Okay," she said. "Dinner. I have a little cash, and I know a really nice place." She picked up Priscilla's suitcase. "I'm taking you to dinner."

Priscilla looked around. "I don't suppose there's a bus, or a cab, or something."

Stephanie shook her head. "That's not how we do things here. Come on – I can give you a pan to soak your feet later." She smiled. "And I can tell you how much I walk in an average night, when I'm doing that thing that we're not going to talk about at dinner."

Priscilla made a face. "You don't mean that you're not going to tell me–"

"At dinner. We are not going to talk about that in public. I'll tell you all about it later, when we're alone." She put down the suitcase and looked Priscilla in the eye. "That thing, that thing that you know – somehow – that has to remain a secret. You need to promise that, Pris."

Looking resigned, Priscilla extended her pinky. "Okay." Stephanie hooked her pinky around Priscilla's. "Pinky swear," Priscilla said.

Stephanie nodded and picked up the suitcase again. "The restaurant is this way. They have the best seafood."

Stephanie knew the very limited food options Priscilla had grown up with, and she thought it was better not to start her off with any of U-town's more exotic offerings. At least seafood would be something she'd heard of.

After they'd walked about half a block (Priscilla always got quiet for a few minutes when you forced her to get serious about anything), they turned to each other and said, "So, why did you cut your hair?"

They laughed.

"I'm the guest," Priscilla said, "So I should go first, but mine is sort of depressing, so you can go first."

"Well, mine is sort of depressing, too. When I ran away from home, I thought they'd be coming after me, looking for me, so I thought I'd better change my appearance." She sighed. "I was so scared they'd catch me and bring me home and force me to have the baby. But then I found out that nobody was even looking for me..."

"Yeah."

"Anyway, I kind of like it shorter. Easier to wash. What about you?"

Priscilla stopped, planted her hands on her hips, and said in her whiniest voice, "Are we there yet?"

"Don't you give me trouble now, young lady. We'll get there when we get there. What about your hair?"

"My stepmother... She decided I was a slut. Her word. It got pretty bad." Stephanie suddenly felt very guilty for not staying in better touch since she'd left home. "It got so bad that I told her that, yes, I do sleep with boys, but that's a lot better than sleeping with a married man."

Stephanie winced, both because of what had happened and because she could imagine her father's reaction if she'd ever said anything like that, to anybody.

Then she looked around and realized that they'd nearly walked past the restaurant, which didn't have a sign. "Hey, your poor aching feet can rest a while. Here we are."

Stephanie explained that the restaurant had several long tables, and people sat wherever they could. The ceiling had bare beams, with lanterns hanging here and there. The tables, the chairs, and the floor were made of rough-hewn, dark wood, thickly coated with varnish.

It was still fairly early in the evening, so there were some empty seats. In a couple of hours there would be a line out the door. Stephanie had been raised that dinner was always at 6:30pm sharp, so she was amazed at how late some people had dinner in U-town.

They started to move to a table which had some empty places at one end, but then they heard a loud bark from the other side of the room.

Eager to see Priscilla's reaction to Daphne, Stephanie said, "Oh, there are two friends of mine. Let's go sit with them."

She led Priscilla across the room to the table where Vinnie and Daphne sat. They were side by side, with two open seats opposite them.

"Professor," Stephanie said, "this is Priscilla. She's visiting from my home town. Pris, this is Professor..." She laughed. "You'd better just call him Vinnie. I can't pronounce his last name." Daphne barked, and Stephanie added, "And this is Daphne."

Vinnie half rose in his seat and held out his hand, so Priscilla shook it. Daphne barked again, and Vinnie said, "Let her smell your hand."

Priscilla looked like she wasn't sure whether this was a joke, but she leaned forward and held out her hand.

Stephanie made a mental note to mention to Priscilla later that both Vinnie and Daphne were obviously appreciating the view down the neck of Priscilla's sweater as she leaned toward them.

Stephanie and Priscilla were about the same height, but they were different in pretty much every way. Stephanie was blonde, with thin hair and blue eyes. Priscilla had full, dark hair (with red highlights – but Stephanie knew that was from henna) and brown eyes. Stephanie's body was lean and athletic, and Priscilla... well, as Stephanie's cousin Betty had said once, girls liked to say that Priscilla was fat, but boys didn't care. Boys, middle-aged college professors, and dogs, apparently.

Daphne sniffed Priscilla's hand and licked it.

"May we join you?" Priscilla asked, straightening up and smiling.

Vinnie gestured. "Please do."

They sat down, and Priscilla said, "So, where do you teach, professor? I'm here to look at colleges – and to visit Stephanie, of course."

Vinnie laughed. "I'm here on a visit, too, though my goal is the opposite of yours. I'm here to get away from college."

"He teaches in Italy," Stephanie explained, and Priscilla laughed.

"Well, I am trying to get away from home," she said, "but maybe not that far away."

A waiter came over and asked, "What'll you have?"

Priscilla looked confused, but Stephanie pointed at the chalkboard next to the door.

"That's it," she said. She turned to the waiter. "We'll both have cups of chowder, and I'll have the scallops."

Daphne barked, and Vinnie said, "She had the scallops, and I gather they were first rate."

Priscilla, who couldn't quite read the chalkboard without her glasses, said, "I'll have the scallops, too."

The waiter went away, and she said to Vinnie, "You've eaten already?"

He nodded. "We have." He seemed to stress the "we," and Priscilla took that as a hint that she should have addressed the question to Daphne as well. "We were just having another glass of wine before we go."

Priscilla looked around. "Can we get wine, too?"

Vinnie held up a hand. "It's our bottle, and it's good wine. Please have some."

He caught the waiter's eye and pointed two fingers at the table in front of the girls.

"Oh, thank you," Priscilla said as two wine glasses appeared.

Vinnie held up the bottle, but Stephanie put her hand over her glass. "None for me, thanks, professor. I have some things to do later." She saw that Priscilla might be about to say something clever, so she added, "I really need to get a handle on the store's finances, and I think it's probably not a good idea to do bookkeeping when you're drunk."

Vinnie nodded as he filled Priscilla's glass. "I imagine that's true." He split the remainder between his own glass and the small bowl in front of Daphne.

"So," he said, "it sounds like you're taking over the store. Will that be permanent?"

"Taking over the store?" Priscilla asked. She looked from Vinnie to Stephanie. "I don't understand."

"I'm sorry," Vinnie said, leaning forward, "did I bring up the wrong thing?"

Stephanie shook her head. "No, it's not like it's a secret. I was just enjoying a few minutes of not thinking about it." She turned to Priscilla and said, "My boss, Mr. Drenkenson, he was knifed to death in the store, night before last."

Priscilla's eyes were wide. "Oh, my God. Do they know who did it?"

Stephanie shook her head. "Not yet."

"Wow."

Priscilla drank some of her wine as the bowls of chowder arrived.

Stephanie dove right in, ignoring her friend's distraction. Vinnie smiled, sipping his wine.

Priscilla swallowed the wine, looked down, frowned at her chowder, cleared her throat, and picked up her spoon.

"It tastes even better if you actually eat it," Stephanie said after a moment.

Priscilla nodded slowly, dipping her spoon into the soup.

"Don't feel bad about Drenkenson," Daphne said. "He was a creep. He tried to force himself on Stephanie."

Priscilla's expression flickered between surprise that Daphne had spoken, shock at what she'd just learned, and sudden appreciation for the soup she had just put in her mouth.

Daphne smiled, looking pleased with herself, as she leaned forward to lap up some wine from her bowl.

 
"So, where do you live? And, most important, is it close?"

"I'm carrying the bag, what do you care?"

"You just do not care about my poor, aching feet."

"True, but you knew that already. Are you going to ask me about Daphne?"

"Probably, at some point, but there are a lot of other things that I'm more curious about."

"Like where you're going to sleep."

"And other things. Should I ask about Stevie One first, or about your boss getting murdered?"

"Well, let's take the bad one first. He was killed one night, in the store, long after closing. Jan Sleet has investigated–"

"Jan Sleet? Oh, my God. You've met her?"

"Uh, well, I've worked with her on a few cases, actually."

"Okay, now I'm impressed. I guess you've worked with her as Stevie One, right?"

"Yes."

"Does she know who you are?"

"Of course. I couldn't keep a secret from her. But how do you know?"

"I'm hoping to go to college over in the city, so I sent for information from all the ones that seemed good... and, you know, that I had a prayer of getting into."

"Because you're getting away from–"

"One thing at a time. One of the colleges – Schermerhorn – they included a copy of their school newspaper in the packet they sent me. I guess they have interns at your newspaper here, and one of them wrote a thing about you, about Stevie One. Including when she – you – first appeared, which wasn't that long after you left home. I knew you were coming here, and I just knew it was you."

"You... how did you know? Just from that?"

She laughed. "Who else could it possibly be?"

Stephanie laughed, too. "We're nearly there–" she began.

"Praise the Lord!"

"Shush. I need to tell you about Angel and Larry."

"Who?"

"The people I live with. I hope they're going to be okay with you staying for a few days... How long are you staying?"

"Uhhh... Well, so what about these Angel and Larry people?"

"Larry picked me up on the highway, hitchhiking, when I was coming here. We kind of hit it off–"

"Oh, my God–"

"No. Nothing like that. He's a grown man, an adult, and he's with Angel. He's training me. Weapons, unarmed fighting, everything."

"And how does he know so much–"

"Officially, I don't know."

"Unofficially? Wait a minute, you're living with a crook?"

"No. Let's not get into that. And Angel, I don't know that much about her."

"And what you do know, you're not going to tell me. Why did you even bring this up if you weren't going to tell me anything?"

"Here we are."

Priscilla stopped and looked at the shabby little building. "This is it?"

"It is. Home. Come on."

They went up the stairs to the front door and Stephanie let them in. "I don't know if they're home," she said as they went down the dark hallway. "We usually hang out in the kitchen. It's the warmest room in the..." Her voice trailed off as they turned the corner, saw that the kitchen was empty, and heard a guttural howl from upstairs.

"Ah," Stephanie said. "They're here." She caught Priscilla's look. "Angel is not quiet when they get going."

There was another bellow from upstairs. "I'll say," Priscilla said, looking up at the ceiling, her eyes wide.

"Come on," Stephanie said, motioning for Priscilla to follow her up the narrow stairs. They tiptoed up, though Stephanie knew that there was no chance they could possibly be heard over the rhythmic thumping and related noises from Angel's bedroom.

Stephanie pointed at the door to her bedroom and they went in. Priscilla looked around, frowning at Stephanie's meager furnishings. She pointed at Stephanie's bed and whispered, "I am not sharing that tiny bed with you. No wonder you can't get any dates."

Stephanie laughed. "You don't need to worry. You can have the bed. I'll bring up a couple of exercise mats from the basement later. I can sleep on those."

Priscilla sat on the bed and kicked off her sneakers. "I really need a shower, but I'm too tired. I'll have one in the morning." She lifted her suitcase up on the bed, opened it, and took out a toothbrush and toothpaste. "Where's the bathroom?"

Stephanie pointed. "Right across the hall."

Priscilla shuffled off in that direction as Stephanie started to remove her clothes. She noticed that there was a lull in the noise from the other bedroom.

She had the bottom half of her costume on and was smelling the armpits of her three tops, trying to figure out which was the cleanest (and making a mental note that she had to do laundry that night or in the morning) when Priscilla came back in with a dazed look on her face.

Stephanie frowned. "What's up?" she asked. She tossed two of the tops into a corner and pulled the other one on.

Priscilla grabbed her wrist and pulled her over so they were sitting next to each other on the bed.

"The weirdest thing just happened," she whispered, her mouth so close to Stephanie that the smell of toothpaste was almost overwhelming. "I was brushing my teeth, and looking around to see if there was any mouthwash, when the bathroom door opened and this woman came in. She just kind of drifted in, like she didn't even see me. She was completely naked, with white skin and white hair. Everywhere. She sort of glided over to the... toilet and sat down, then she noticed me and smiled.

"'Oh, hello dear,' she said. She held out her hand and said, 'I'm Angel.'

"I shook her hand, and then I had to spit before I could tell her who I was, but she just smiled and waited. I told her my name and I'm not even sure she heard the part about me being your friend. She just finished up and smiled, and as she left she squeezed my shoulder and said, 'So nice to have you here.'"

Stephanie chuckled. "At least she didn't throw you out."

"Is she on drugs?"

"Oh, no, I don't think so. She was probably just... you know. Relaxed."

"Satisfied."

"Yeah. At least for the moment." She caught Priscilla's expression. "And don't even start about me." She stood up and pulled on her mask. "I'm going out to help some people, and maybe kick some ass. Don't wait up."

 
to be continued...

This story started here.

Walking up the stairs to Pete and Katherine's apartment, Vinnie suddenly realized that this might be socially awkward. Henshaw and Pete had been in a band together, and he had just decked Henshaw. Well, maybe Pete and Katherine would be asleep, as they had been the night before when he and Daphne had got home.

He knocked at the door, lightly, hoping only Daphne would hear. There was a bark from inside (he was surprised to find himself smiling at the sound), but it was Katherine who opened the door. It was cooler that night, so she was dressed in more than underwear.

She smiled as he came in, nearly colliding with Daphne as she lunged forward to greet him. He squatted and rubbed her head, kissing her forehead, and she pressed her head against his.

"Vinnie," Katherine said as she moved to the big kitchen table. "Good to see you." She gestured at the stove. "There's coffee."

Vinnie went to the stove and poured himself a mug. He saw that Daphne's bowl was half full, so he topped it off and carried it over next to his chair. He sat, and Daphne lapped up some coffee and rested her chin on his thigh.

"Where's Pete?" he asked. Since the apartment (other than Daphne's room) had no walls, it was easy to tell Pete wasn't there. Then Vinnie noticed that the bass guitar case was missing also. "He got a gig?"

"No," Katherine said. "He's got an audition." She shook her head. "I think he thought that his old band, Kingdom Come, might put itself back together at some point. Tom's death, of course, ended that."

"I was under the impression that it had ended some time before that."

Daphne rolled her eyes, and Vinnie rubbed her head.

Katherine nodded. "It did. I guess Daphne may have told you about Jenny Owens and all that she brought with her." She finished her coffee. "Pete thinks he's not a good bass player, so he believes getting into KC was a fluke and he'll never get into that good a band again." She gave Vinnie a sidelong glance. "I'm not telling you anything I haven't said to him."

Daphne barked quietly.

"Then this is probably a good time to let you know that I had an altercation with Mr. Henshaw earlier this evening. I hope that isn't going to be an issue." He told the story, and he could tell from their expressions that this was fine with both of them.

Katherine laughed when he was done. "Serves him right. I never did like him. He's a good musician, I guess, but he's always trying to prove he's a tough guy. One time he stole a gun of mine while he was here. I got it back, but..." She made a face. "I thought of killing him, but Pete would have been upset.

"It is typical of him to make himself the hero of the story by talking about his 'friend' Tom when they couldn't stand each other. But I am happy you hit him, like that time with Lauren."

Vinnie laughed. "It was kind of similar at that." He looked down at Daphne. "That was in a bar, in the town where I lived, many, many years ago. This woman made a joke about starling..." His voice trailed off.

Katherine smiled. "You can call me that. It's okay."

"Lauren made a nasty joke about starling and Alex, who were friends, and starling tripped her so she went flying, and I poured a beer on her head. So, similar, except that this time I did the knocking down and then Ron dumped a plate of salad."

"I knew I liked her."

Daphne barked a question.

"Alex was my friend," Vinnie said. "Then she was Jan's mother, a little later."

* * * *

Vinnie looked up at the ceiling. It was barely visible in the light from a streetlight. He had a thought, and he was having a tough time getting rid of it.

Daphne was asleep, pressed against his side with her arm across his stomach. She was snoring quietly, and drooling into his armpit, but that wasn't what was making it difficult for him to get back to sleep.

Well, if he was right, his daughter would react in a specific way, and probably soon. If not, then she wouldn't. That was simple. So, why was he still awake?

"What is it?" Daphne murmured. "Getting restless already?"

"No, nothing like that." He squeezed her. "A thought came to me, and it's not a really happy one, but I have a possible idea about who killed Tom Drenkenson."

She opened her eyes and raised her head to look at him in the gloom. "Really?" she whispered. "I didn't realize there were two detectives in the family."

"That's just it. If I've figured this out, then she will, too, if she hasn't already, and then she'll react in a very particular way. If she doesn't, then I'm wrong."

She rested her chin on his chest, still looking at him. "Want to talk about it?"

"Are you sure you want to hear it?"

She shrugged. "If it's enough to get you all wound up like this, then yes."

 
When he was done, she let out a deep sigh. "That's cutting pretty close to home," she breathed.

He nodded. "Exactly."

She sighed. "So, how are you going to test this theory of yours?"

"Well, I think we should go..." He smiled. "I mean I should go–"

"No," she said. "We can go. I can be Doctor Watson." He frowned, about to protest, but she continued, "I'll show you. Watson had many good doggy qualities, you know. Loyal, helpful, fearless–"

"I'm sure you'll make a fine Watson. I'm more dubious about my ability to hold up my end."

"Well," she murmured, putting her head down and closing her eyes, "you lead and I'll follow. There are advantages..." Her voice trailed off and she barked quietly as she snuggled up against him.

Vinnie was already regretting the idea of trying to solve this mystery himself. Even if his idea was correct (no, especially if it was correct), he couldn't imagine the process was going to be pleasant.

 
Vinnie sighed as they walked slowly down the hotel steps. Marshall had told him pretty much what he had expected to hear, but Vinnie had hoped, until the last minute, that he would turn out to be wrong.

He slowed and stood motionless at the bottom of the steps. Daphne leaned against his leg. He looked down and saw that her expression was sad. He leaned over and rubbed her head. "I can go home," she whispered, "if you don't... if I'm not going to be helpful."

He squatted and took her hand (which rested limply in his, like a dog's paw). "I am very happy you're here," he said. "But I do... there are two things I need. Besides my Watson, of course."

She looked quizzical.

"A private place to talk. Where I'm absolutely sure nobody can overhear. And... there's someone whose advice I want to get. Stephanie, the girl who works at the pet store Drenkenson owned."

Daphne was obviously puzzled by this, but she shrugged and turned to face the street that would take them to the pet store. When Vinnie didn't start walking immediately, she raised one hand and pointed in that direction.

"Thanks," he said. "Let's go."

As they approached the pet store, Vinnie slowed. "I need to talk to Stephanie alone for a minute. Wait here."

He dropped her leash and stepped toward the door, but she moved with him.

"Daphne, stay!" he said. She looked up, expressionless, but again she stepped forward when he did.

He looked at her for a moment, then he picked up her leash and looped it around a fire hydrant.

She reached up and took it off again.

Vinnie burst out laughing and squatted, bringing her to him and holding her. She licked his cheek and whispered, "So, go on in already. What are you waiting for?"

He laughed again and kissed her. "I'll be right back."

 
A few minutes later, Vinnie, Daphne, and Stephanie were together in the small office. Stephanie sat at the desk, and Vinnie sat in the other chair. Daphne curled up on the floor. She was enjoying watching Stephanie pretend not to look at her.

"I need to explain this," Vinnie said, "and it may take a while."

Stephanie shrugged. "There's a bell that will ring if a customer comes in. Other than that, I'm all yours."

"The thing that occurred to me last night," Vinnie began, "was that Pete and Katherine's little demonstration in the street yesterday meant something, but it left one big question unanswered. Yes, starling is easy to impersonate, and Daphne here has given her an alibi for that night, which I believe. And, as far as we can figure out, Katherine didn't have any motive.

"But starling was seen in this area, which means that either she was here or somebody was impersonating her. Daphne tells me that it's very unlikely that anybody was just walking around dressed as her. People put on starling costumes sometimes for parades or parties, but not just to walk around. Too much chance you'd get shot. She has a lot of enemies.

"So, who was it? Pete was able to pull it off, but a big man like Henshaw? Ridiculous. Larry Gerard? Marshall has described him and that's even more ridiculous. Jenny Owens, if she's still around somewhere? That's possible, but then I had another thought.

"Alex – Jan's mother – she and Katherine were friends, very briefly and very intensely, and they were known for dressing up like each other. Jan tries not to talk to me about Alex, but from what she doesn't say I've always had the idea that Alex is here somewhere in U-town. I couldn't get this idea out of my head, so I decided to test it. If I'd thought of this, Jan would, too, and how would she react? She wouldn't be able to deal with suspecting her own mother, and she'd drop the investigation, or at least put it on the far back burner."

He sighed. "So, first thing this morning we went to see her. We ran into Marshall, and he said that she was in meetings all day. When we saw him, she was in a meeting about sanitation." He shook his head. "The lengths to which she will go, under normal circumstances, to avoid meetings about sanitation are a running joke with people who know her. But today? Apparently not."

"Hang on," Stephanie said. "I'm okay with..." She shook her head. "Isn't it pretty far-fetched to assume that your ex-wife knew..." Her voice trailed off and she suddenly looked upset. "How did you know?" she asked.

There was an awkward moment of silence, then Vinnie said, "I'm not clever enough to fake you out. I have no idea what you're talking about."

Stephanie looked at him for a moment, then she said, "Well, to continue my question–"

"Wait a minute," Vinnie protested. "You can't just–"

"Ignore what I just said? Actually, I can."

Vinnie made a rueful and inarticulate noise.

She shrugged. "You can't force me, you shouldn't threaten me, and you can't run to Miss Sleet to figure it out because, according to your own theory, she's dropped the case. And besides, she already knows."

He sighed. "Okay, what's your question?"

"You're basing a lot on two people who liked to dress up like each other twenty years ago. So, let's assume that Miss Sleet has dropped the case, and because it was hitting too close to home. Who would she do that for?"

"Well, me, I suppose, but I couldn't impersonate starling."

Stephanie shook her head. "starling is a murderer. She says she wasn't there, but I don't believe anything she says – not without a witness."

Daphne raised her head and growled, baring her teeth.

"A reliable and unbiased witness," Stephanie said, continuing to look at Vinnie.

Daphne stuck out her tongue and put her head down again.

"But I don't suspect you," Stephanie said. She shrugged. "No motive. Which also goes for Marshall and Ron. And I don't think starling did it, because Miss Sleet wouldn't want to protect her."

"So, you're sort of back to Alex." Vinnie frowned. "I wonder if Jan would lie to protect you. She thinks very highly of you."

"If she thinks highly of me, it's because... I'm not the sort of person who's going to go around murdering people."

Daphne looked up and barked a question. Vinnie reached down and squeezed her shoulder.

"That makes sense," he admitted.

 
"Well," Vinnie said as they walked along, "at least my daughter will be happy."

Daphne barked.

"She'd have been upset if we'd been able to solve it without her. Not that..."

His voice trailed off as they turned a corner and Daphne suddenly started to pull against her leash, straining toward the stone arch across the street which led to a park.

Vinnie allowed himself to be pulled across the street and into the park, which was small -- two small city blocks, with several paved paths lined with benches, trees, and grass, and a small playground at the far end.

He felt another tug, and he turned to see Daphne standing up and unclipping the leash from her collar. He handed his end of the leash to her, which seemed to be the appropriate thing to do, and she rolled it up and stuck it into her back pocket.

She took his hand. "I hope you like ice cream," she said, leading him toward the playground.

 
A few minutes later, sitting on a bench, back at the far end of the park from the playground, they licked their cones. Daphne had persuaded him to try the papaya/mango/coconut flavor, which was surprisingly tasty.

She sat with one arm around his shoulders, smiling. "It was funny that Stephanie jumped to the conclusion that Alex was your ex-wife, just because you guys had a kid together."

He nodded, licking up a bit of melting ice cream before it could fall on his hand.

"Alex and I were friends, and we were parents, but we weren't married, and I never even thought of us as lovers. We just..." He caught her eye. "I don't know if you're aware of this, but sex can be much more enjoyable than a lot of other activities."

She nodded seriously. "That's a very cogent observation, professor."

"And we were friends, and we were young and horny, and we weren't having a lot of luck with any other prospects in our small town."

"And she got pregnant."

"Yes, and I was prepared to do my part."

"But you ended up doing both parts."

He shrugged. "That was okay. It was... It was easier than if she'd been there, to be honest, and she left so quickly that Janice had no memories of her. She'd have left eventually, so..." He shrugged again and ate some more ice cream.

"So," he continued after a moment, "just in case you were wondering, my curiosity about Alex was simply to find out whether she's involved in this case. No other reason."

Daphne nodded slowly, chewing and swallowing her cone. She pursed her lips thoughtfully, and Vinnie wondered if this was the time that she would start talking about herself, at least a little.

But then he realized that her eyes were closed, and those pursed lips were moving inexorably in the direction of his face.

It had been quite a while since he'd necked on a park bench. And, as they kissed, he reflected that, although he was pretty sure he wouldn't get anywhere asking nosy questions, he really did want to figure out this odd woman.

After a few minutes, he considered pointing out that she was really too big to be a lap dog, but he decided against it.

 
to be continued...