“Open up!” Ophelia shouted, pounding on the door.

“What makes you think he’d be here?” Cy asked.

“This is where he always brings chicks,” Ophelia explained. Again, she beat at the door and demanded to be let in.

“Maybe he’s not here.”

“He is!” Ophelia insisted.

The door slowly opened, and Dunstan stood in the doorway, bare-chested, with his hair slightly tousled. Ophelia pushed past him, followed by Cy.

“Where is she?” Ophelia yelled.

“Where’s who?” Dunstan asked, shutting the door and giving the pair an odd look.

“Don’t play dumb!” Ophelia snapped. She shook Dunstan roughly. “Where the hell is she?”

“What are you talking about? I’m not doing anything illegal!” Dunstan argued.

Ophelia slapped him several times. “Damn it, stop lying! I know what you’re like. Where the f**k is she?”

Dunstan pinned Ophelia’s hands to her sides. “Calm down,” he said. “I don’t know why you’re barging into my place, asking weird questions.”

“Look,” Cy spoke up. “Just tell us where she is.”

“Where who is?” Dunstan asked.


“Dunstan, what’s going on?” a voice called from behind them. Charise walked into the room, wearing only a longish shirt, partially buttoned, and socks.

Ophelia and Cy turned and stared at her, then looked back at Dunstan. Ophelia’s face flushed. "We were looking for Emily,” she explained reluctantly.

“Why would she be here?” Charise asked.

“Just thought she might be hanging out with one of you,” Ophelia lied.

“Well, it’s just us here,” Dunstan said.

“Yes, we see that now,” Cy replied, giving Ophelia an embarrassed look.

“Sorry to have interrupted,” Ophelia said, grabbing Cy’s arm and dragging her toward the door. “Please go on with the perverted stuff. By the way, Charise, did you remember to take your Zithromax?”

Cy dragged Ophelia outside and shut the door. “What’s Zithromax?” Cy asked.

Ophelia smirked. “It’s azithromycin. Used to treat a variety of problems, including certain STIs.”

Cy raised an eyebrow. “Is she really taking that?”

“Nah. I just felt like putting a damper on their fun.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Fine. But it did feel good to smack Dunstan around.”

Cy cracked a smile. “Yeah, I bet. Well, let’s go see if we can find someone who can give us information.”


Just then, Charise peeked her head out the door. “Hey,” she said. “That wasn’t cool. And whatever you said I was on, I'm not.”

Ophelia rolled her eyes. “Okay, I overreacted. But Emily’s been running off around three-thirty every day and--”

“She has?” Charise interrupted, surprised. “That’s weird. S has been running off every day around three-fifteen.”



“Dude,” AJ argued, addressing the bouncer, “you gotta let me in!”

The bouncer sighed. “Look, you’re too young. You can’t come in.”

“We’re not going to look at the chicks much!” AJ whined. “We need to talk to people.”

“Why?” the bouncer asked.

“My sister keeps running off at the same time every day, and… well… in detective shows, the cops always go to strip clubs…”

“Well, you’re not getting into this one,” the bouncer argued. “Now scram, or I’m calling the 5-0.”

“Yes, sir!” Louie called out, tugging AJ away. He whispered to the athletic boy, “What made you think we’d get in?”

“Well, I read this article about a kid who’s, like, twelve or thirteen, and he gets into clubs all the time. I figured since we’re high school seniors, we could try to get into a strip joint.”

“Well, it was a stupid idea. Didn’t work. What now?”


AJ smirked. “Is there an age restriction for Victoria’s Secret or Frederick’s of Hollywood?”

Louie thought for a few seconds and replied slowly, “I don’t think so. Why?”

“Next best thing!”

“I can’t go in there!” Louie cried out.

“But you had no problems getting cozy with Angela earlier. You know, if you were any other guy, I’d tell you to go for it. But since you’re dating my sister, I’ll put it like this: you cheat on my sister, and I’ll make sure they never find the body. Ever,” AJ snapped. Louie flinched. “Now,” AJ continued, more cheerfully, “are we going to the underwear stores or not?”



Tiffani stared at the bookshelf. So many books, she thought. No wonder the girl needs glasses! She looked over at Angela, who was going through a stack of papers.

“Found anything yet?” Tiffani asked.

“I’ve found a lot of stuff,” Angela replied. “The better question would have been asking whether or not I’ve found any clues.”

“Well, then, have you?” Tiffani sighed impatiently.

“I’m not sure,” Angela said. Tiffani rolled her eyes and walked over. “Let me see,” she commanded. She flipped through the papers. “Test paper. Test paper. Blank paper. List of phone numbers… has all of the CNC-er numbers, Louie’s number, Charise’s number, the number for someone named Maya, and… S’s? Weird. Let’s see, what else? Sketches. Lots and lots of sketches.”

Angela peered at them. “What kind?”

“Clothes and rooms in houses. Stuff like that,” Tiffani remarked.

“Emily’s finally becoming a true woman!” Angela said delightedly. “She’s showing interest in domestic activities!”


Tiffani shot Angela a withering look. “No. I think what‘s going on is a lot more logical than your suggestion.”

“And what, pray tell, is illogical with my idea?” Angela asked sharply.

“Emily isn’t the domestic type, like you are, for starters.”

“People change.”

Tiffani clenched her hands into fists, frustrated. “Look,” she snapped, “if Emily actually did get interested in housewife stuff, she’d be doing it, not drawing it!”


Just then, Angela’s cell phone rang. “Answer that,” Tiffani commanded. “It might be Ophelia or AJ.”

Angela flipped the phone open. “Hello?” she said. “Oh, really? She did what? Why would she do such a thing? Well, I knew she was weird, but that’s just plain insane! Yes. Yes, I’ll call you as soon as I see her.” She closed the phone and pocketed it.

“What was that about?” Tiffani asked.

“A friend of mine had an insane woman come in and attack him,” Angela replied nonchalantly.