″So soon?″

″The doctors said she′s okay to travel. I just got off the line with the police. I gather from the detectives that they′ve already gotten all the information they need from her for now. We′ll fly her back in for anything else they need.″

″Still, I don′t know if it′s best that she-″

″I′ve brought our private physician with us. Don′t worry-Shaina will get the best of care.″ All at once, Belmont sounded like he was in a hurry to end the conversation.

I wasn′t too happy about the idea that Shaina was going to be whisked out of the country right after her mother′s death. It was hard to wrap my head around the idea of bopping around the world on a private jet with one′s own doctor. It sounded like the life of royals. Even though I′d always known Jana came from a rich family, I′d never realized how rich.

Belmont, Luke-everyone, it seemed-were telling me not to worry, that things were under control. They had their suspect and their story lines straight. But I still had a duty to my friend Jana.

I needed to know why she′d been killed.

The clouds cleared away that afternoon just in time for the Newbodies to hold the Memory Ceremony for Jana.

At four p.m. I was clutching the prickly stem of a red rose in my right hand, a white rose in my left-red to symbolize life, white for death.

Eight women were clustered around me atop a stone bridge that spanned New Hope Creek in Duke Forest. The rains had transformed the boulder-pocked rivulet into muddy rapids; all around us was the sound of rushing water and the smell of damp earth.

Frank crouched below us at the shoreline, his camera resting on his shoulder. Bringing a crew along had actually been Evelyn′s idea. I′d resisted at first, not wanting to exploit Jana′s death. But Evelyn had already text-polled the Newbodies, and all eight women had decided unanimously that broadcasting the ceremony would provide a highway to release Jana′s spirit to the cosmos.

The only member who hadn′t made it to the gathering was Trish Putnam, who was still out of town. I′d left her a message on her cell about Jana, but had missed her return call. I still wanted to find out what had become of Jana′s purse, which she′d left at Trish′s house on the night of the Newbodies meeting. I′d have to follow up about that with her later.

Evelyn stood at the crest of the bridge, facing us. She was wearing a full-length white dress and carrying a woven basket. The basket had pieces of paper in it.

″As you all know, Jana Miller was a former member of the Newbodies,″ Evelyn began. ″She moved away to Miami a couple of years ago but kept in close touch and was a good friend to many of us. We′ve come here today to honor her life with our spirit memories.″

Evelyn started handing out pieces of paper and tiny pencils from the basket.

As she distributed the items to each of us, she continued, ″This is biodegradable paper that will dissolve almost instantly and leave no pollution in the creek,″ she said. ″I′d like us each to write a spiritual memory of Jana. Then we′ll release the notes and the roses into the water.″

When I got my piece of paper, I stared at it for a while, unsure what a ″spiritual memory″ was. Then I knew.

Jana, I wrote. Shaina is fine and she misses you very much. The police have made an arrest. I′ll keep following up until I′m satisfied they have the right person. I hope you′re at peace now. Love, Kate.

It was an oddly factual, unspiritual message.

But hey, I′m a reporter, not a psychic.

And if by some miracle my message managed to reach Jana on the other side of life, I hoped she′d appreciate the update.

Our after-ceremony was much less spiritual than the Memory Ceremony had been.

At my suggestion, a few of us met at Bug-tussles. By now it was seven p.m., and I was in serious need of decompression, one involving libation and perhaps some of Bartender Bernie′s famous hamburger sliders.

Four of us made the pilgrimage-me, Evelyn, and two women I′d first met at the Tuesday night Newbodies meeting.

Passersby were shooting curious glances at us. We were at the bar, but we certainly weren′t in bar-chat mode.

Evelyn was still wearing her Sister Aimee gown, with roses in her hair that she′d picked up at the Memory Ceremony.

″We don′t have a quorum here to decide anything tonight,″ she said. ″But I′m thinking we should probably disband the Newbodies.″

″Don′t we need to talk to Trish about that before even discussing it?″ said Monique, a shockingly tall woman who had the most overdeveloped neck I′d ever seen. ″I don′t want to preempt.″

Monique had once been named Michael, I′d heard, which probably explained the height and the neck.

″Certainly I don′t mean to preempt Trish,″ Evelyn said in a defensive tone. ″But I′m scared. Too much has happened. Like what about the fact that Anaïs Loring was killed last spring? Who′s next?″

Celia, who had a pasty-white complexion that made her look like she′d been bitten by a vampire, looked up from her drink. ″You didn′t even know Anaïs, Evelyn,″ she said. ″I did, and I certainly can′t imagine any possible connection between Anaïs and Jana. Let′s all take a deep breath and not overreact.″

Trust a vampire to stay calm.

What calmed me was the timely arrival of the platter of hamburger sliders.

″Back when Anaïs was killed during the robbery, what did the police say about it?″ I asked Celia, popping a slider into my mouth.

″Not very much,″ Celia said. ″They talked to everyone in the Newbodies at the time. I don′t know if they talked to Jana, though, because she was in Miami.″

After a pause she added, ″Actually, I kind of got the sense that I was being questioned a bit about Anaïs′s murder. Did you get that sense, Monique?″

Monique looked stricken. ″You mean, like as a suspect? Not at all,″ she said. ″They just asked who′d been at Anaïs′s house around the time of the murder. And of course we′d all been there for the Newbodies meeting. That′s all.″

With a shrug Celia said, ″Well, they needed to know exactly where I was when the robbery took place. I remember they said Anaïs was killed at ten p.m. But maybe they only did me that way. I′ve never gotten along with cops-they′re always writing me tickets.″

Monique checked in with her watch.

″Oh, darn,″ she said, reaching for her purse. ″I forgot I told my roommate I′d walk her stupid dog tonight. He′s probably peed all over the place by now. Will twenty cover my drink?″

″It′ll more than cover it,″ I said. ″Hang on, Monique; I′ll give you your-″

But Monique had already left the building.

Early Friday morning, I drove directly to Durham police headquarters. I wanted to talk to Luke some more about Jana′s murder, but from the way he′d freaked out at me at the hospital, I knew I′d better have a good strategy.

The operator at the Durham Police Department told me that Luke was in an ″official meeting. ″ That was squad jargon that detectives used when they didn′t want to be hassled by the phone, Jonathan had once told me. So I decided to walk into his office unannounced.