“Oh yes, definitely. Did they or did they not hang the cat? But this Web site. Where did it come from? Who’s doing it?”

Damien feigned interest by nodding and rubbing his chin, but that wasn’t the story he wanted to cover. He had plans to interview Darla Shaw, then Tim, the neighbors… try to figure out how a deacon of the church could end up nearly killing his wife with a remote.

“You say here that it all started with a conversation that was posted on this Web site, right?” Edgar asked.

“I guess, but-”

“So the conversation was about their neighbors across the street, good friends?”

“Yes.”

“Then these neighbors find their cat hanging from a tree.”

“Yes.”

“And by evening, the deacon has almost killed his wife.”

“I called the hospital and talked to my cousin so I could get some info. Turns out she’s going to be fine and she’s not planning on pressing charges.”

Edgar looked delighted. “Even better. Everyone’s fascinated with the wife who’d stay with the abuser. Oprah makes a killing off stories like this. And now it’s our turn.” He stood and grabbed the coffeepot in the corner of his office, pouring himself another cup. “This Web site, though. I want you to do some digging. Let’s follow it regularly in the paper.”

“Sir, with all due respect, do you think that’s a good idea? What good could come of drawing people’s attention to gossip?”

Edgar held the coffee near his lips but didn’t drink. “So you’re back to editorial opinion pieces now? If you want to be an investigative reporter, you’ve got to stop thinking about people’s feelings. And your own opinion, for that matter. I want facts. They’re not called cold and hard for nothing.”

Thirty more minutes of office time and then Kay had a showing. Probably the only showing of the day. The economy wasn’t bad in Marlo, but it was all about perception. Nobody wanted to make any big financial moves, including buying a house they couldn’t afford. But truth was, when it came to Marlo, nobody could afford what they were living in. Or driving. Or vacationing to.

She decided to check on some properties that went up for sale yesterday. But before her hands hit the keyboard, an unfamiliar female voice floated down the hall, asking where Kay’s office was. Soon, Shannon, Zoey’s mom, stood in the doorway.

“Look at you, all professional and snazzy.” She sauntered in wearing really expensive jeans and a cozy sweater. Long earrings stretched her lobes down, and a small Gucci purse dangled off one shoulder.

Kay stood because that was the professional thing to do. Normally she might extend a hand to shake, but moms didn’t shake hands. They just gave one another the once-over and an either approving or disapproving look.

Shannon’s finger traced the air. “Girl, you are rocking it in that pink number.”

“Oh, uh, thank you. How are you?”

“Sit; sit.” Shannon flopped herself into the single chair on the other side of Kay’s desk. She kicked her feet up. Ugg boots. Of course.

“So what’s up?” Kay asked.

“I had to come talk to you. So we’re at Kelly’s last night, right? Doing the whole scrapbooking thing for the girls. By the way, cuuute picture of Jenna in her cheer outfit. Anyway, guess who stops by? Jill! Exactly. Uninvited as usual. Well, she’s a mess.”

“A mess?”

“First of all, she should not be wearing those awful Juicy outfits. Really. She looks ridiculous. Especially when she’s got mascara running down her face.”

“What was wrong?”

“It took us fifteen minutes to get her calmed down to even tell us. According to her-and this, mind you, is according to her-Mike is the one having an affair. At least she’s suspecting it. I don’t know why she’s devastated. I mean, she’s divorcing the guy. Cut your losses. Move on. She claims that she’s upset for Natalie’s sake, but come on. The woman is a total codependent. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, sure. It’s written all over her.”

Shannon twirled the hair from her ponytail around her index finger, snapping her gum and seemingly sizing Kay up for a moment.

“So, what happened?”

Shannon sighed. “The same thing that always happens. We listen to her drone on and on about her problems. We tell her it’s going to be okay. And we push her out the front door so she can go hit the liquor shop before it closes.”

“She drinks?”

“Honey, she doesn’t just drink. She guzzles. Not for pleasure or party either. She can’t get through a day without knocking the hard stuff back.” Shannon stopped twirling her hair. Popping her feet off the desk, she leaned forward, locking eyes with Kay. “I’m sensing something here. You knew Jill before we knew you. I’m not crossing the line, am I? You’re not still tight with her, are you?”

“Jill? No.”

Twirling. Again. “All right. Anyway, just wanted to update you. Warn you. In case she starts calling you. I seriously wouldn’t even answer the phone. You’ll get stuck for like an hour.” She crossed her long legs, picked at the fuzz on her pants. “So, how’s Jenna? Heard she had to put one of the girls in her place. But hey, sometimes that’s what it takes.”

“Jenna? Oh, she’s fine. Great.”

“Yeah? Liking cheer again?”

“Loves it. She’s totally happy.”

“Good. It’s all about keeping the girls happy.” Shannon rose and went to the door. “We’ll probably get together next weekend, plan the sleepover. I’ll call you.”

Kay stood and leaned casually against her desk. “Sounds good.”

“See ya.”

Kay smiled and waved, then slowly sat back down in her chair, pulling her suit jacket closed. Mike was the one having the affair? That was hard to believe. She’d known both of them since Jenna and Natalie were in the fifth grade. He didn’t seem the type.

She wondered what kind of influence Natalie would begin to be on Jenna, especially if she was acting out. Kay always suspected it was Natalie who influenced Jenna’s style. For the worse. She’d have to keep an eye out for more problems.

She’d have to keep an eye out, period.

“What, um, are we doing?” Gavin stared at Frank like he might radio in.

“I’m just looking into something. Don’t have a cow.” Frank got out of the cruiser, and within seconds, Gavin was right by his side. They both looked up at the large black sign hanging over the strip mall store. Spies Are Us. “Ever been in here?”

“Why are we going in here?” Gavin scurried after Frank, who opened the front door and walked inside. “What are you doing?” He took a moment to glance from wall to wall.

“Cool stuff in here,” Frank said.

Gavin’s face twitched. “Um, I’m not trying to be… It’s just that-well, the whole thing with your ex-wife. The captain said I’m supposed to… you’re not supposed to do that thing anymore.”

“What thing?” Frank asked, his hand gliding along a glass shelf piled high with spyware. He really loved messing with this kid.

“Be around her and stuff.”

Frank stopped and turned to him. “I don’t see Angela here. Do you?”

Gavin actually glanced around as if she might suddenly appear.

“Well? Do you?”

“Um, no,” Gavin said. “But we are at the spy store.”

“So?” Frank picked up a pair of night-vision goggles.

“Look, Officer Merret, you can’t do this, okay? You’re not supposed to be around her.”

“I’m not around her.”

“But,” he said, dropping his voice to a whisper, “you’re going to spy on her?”

Frank only smiled at him-a long, prideful smile that caused Gavin’s eyes to widen. Then he continued to the next wall, where they sold the small listening devices one could plant underneath a coffee table.

“You need to just leave it alone or you’re going to get in trouble.”

“Trouble? By who? You? You going to rat me out, Jenkins?”

Gavin tried to maintain a stoic expression. “The captain asked me to report anything to him.”