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kitten-heeled sandals. As always, her blond hair was coiffed in a perfect pageboy.
    â€œI just checked my e-mail, and I have fourteen requests from funeral parlors wanting to carry my line of Drop-Dead Gorgeous cosmetics,” Ida informed them as she helped herself to a bowl of fruit.
    â€œThat’s fantastic,” Mavis said. “I must admit, I looked at my e-mail, too. There were more than a hundred orders. I still can’t believe my new career. While it’s sad, I feel good about sending people’s loved ones off in style. I always thought it was such a morbid thing to have to pick out an outfit in which to bury a family member. Now, funeral parlors can offer my services, saving the family the pain of searching for that final dress or suit. When Herbert died, he only had one suit, so there wasn’t really any choice to make.”
    â€œCan we talk about something else besides dead people?” Toots asked.
    Everyone laughed.
    â€œHas anyone spoken to Abby?” Mavis asked.
    Now that she was editor in chief at The Informer, Abby spent most of her time behind a desk. However, when the opportunity arose and she was needed, she pounded the pavement just like the reporters, in search of the next big story.
    â€œI tried to call her right before I got in the shower. All I got was her voice mail. I left a message to tell her we were back at the beach house and would be home all evening if she wanted to bring Chester by to visit with Coco.” Chester was Abby’s German shepherd, who just happened to be madly in love with Coco.
    On hearing her name, Coco popped out through her newly installed doggie door onto the deck. She growled, then barked. They all knew she had recognized Chester’s name.
    Mavis picked up the little dog and placed her in her lap. “Coco would love to see her sweetie, wouldn’t she?”
    Alert, her ears perking up, Coco stared at the door, most likely searching for Chester.
    They spent the next half hour discussing dogs, cats, and food. Toots and Sophie smoked three cigarettes each and Mavis went back to the kitchen, where she made a pot of coffee and brought it back out to the deck.
    The sun was low on the horizon, a brilliant red and yellow ball sinking into the waters of the Pacific Ocean. Foamy white waves curled onto the bisque-colored sand. The early-evening air was warm, yet the breeze off the ocean provided just the right amount of motion to make everyone comfortable. The four women continued to relax on the deck and enjoy their coffees and light conversation.
    As they were about to get into a lengthy discussion on the merits and demerits of plastic surgery, the telephone rang. Expecting Abby’s call, Toots had brought it outside with her. She looked at the caller ID and picked up on the second ring. “Abby, you got my message. How are you?”
    â€œI’m great. How are the three Gs?” Abby asked, affectionately referring to her three godmothers.
    â€œOrnery as ever. You should know that,” Toots teased.
    â€œHow was Sacramento?”
    Abby knew they’d gone to Sacramento, but had no clue why. Toots hated being dishonest or evasive, especially to her daughter. But being a newspaper editor, Abby would know how important protecting one’s sources was. What they’d just done required absolute silence.
    â€œIt was a quick trip, nothing exciting. We all had a little bit of business to attend to,” Toots explained to her daughter. “Is there any juicy Hollywood gossip these days?”
    â€œActually there may be. I don’t know if you’d call it juicy gossip, but, apparently, Laura Leigh is missing.”
    Laura Leigh was a midlist actress in her early twenties who often guest starred on some of the more popular sitcoms. She’d had a starring role in a B-grade horror flick a few months earlier and had appeared on all the late-night talk shows. While the movie wasn’t a blockbuster by any