coffee?”

I stood and straightened my slacks, too, as if on cue. Suddenly my head was clear. I was here for business and I needed to get on with it.

“Yes. Coffee would be nice. I’ll just be a moment.”

I headed to the restroom as Gary left the office.

Once in the safety of the bathroom, I evaluated myself in the mirror. It was worse than I had imagined. The blouse that I had been so pleased with and felt so pretty in now looked like a sausage casing gone bad. It was stretched to the limit. I had raccoon eyes from my streaky mascara and my hair was totally flat.

I unbuttoned my blouse and re-Velcroed the girdle. I then checked the tissue I had stuffed into my bra. It was soaked, but thankfully hadn’t leaked.

I shoved clean dry tissue into my bra, then redid the buttons on the blouse. Miraculously, it looked fine again.

I sat on the toilet and tested the Velcro. It held. I stood, then sat again and rocked back and forth. The Velcro slipped a bit. I jumped as though I’d just been bitten and redid the girdle a little looser. This time the blouse didn’t look as great as before, but the Velcro didn’t slip either. I decided that was the better option.

I washed my face and cleaned off the mascara, then teased my hair a bit for some volume. Overall, physically the effect was fine. Not fabulous, but passable.

What about feeling like an idiot, though?

Nothing I could do about that but suck it up.

Stop pretending I was somebody I wasn’t. Thin, confident, experienced. And start telling the truth.

When I emerged from the restroom, Gary was seated comfortably on the couch looking completely untraumatized. In fact, he looked so relaxed holding a cup of coffee in one hand and flipping through a file that rested on his lap with the other, that I wondered if I had imagined the entire incident.

He looked up when I entered and smiled. “We won’t get the preliminary report the uniforms took on the evening of November fifth or any of the medical examiner’s findings from the toxicology screen unless they formally charge Bruce. The only thing in here are my notes from the police interview the other day.” He closed the file and rose, indicated a coffee tray on a side table. “Help yourself. I’m going to ask Mandy to photocopy this for you.”

He left the room and I poured myself a cup of coffee. I sat on the couch and tested the girdle. Everything held. I tried not to focus on the girdle and sipped the coffee instead.

Gary returned, smiling. “Here we go. This is the full transcription from the interview.”

He handed me the file and I opened it.

It looked like somebody had written the pages in German. I fought to keep my eyes from glazing over from the legalese.

Might as well start with something I knew.

I recounted for him my first meeting with Helene and Margaret and then began on the dinner cruise.

“You were on the cruise?” Gary asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. It was my first night meeting most of the mommy group.”

Gary looked confused.

I waved away his concern. “Long story. Anyway, what I do know is that there were reports of Helene and Sara fighting just before Helene’s demise.”

Gary didn’t try to hide his surprise. His eyebrows rose, although due to the asymmetry of his face, his right eyebrow shot up quite high while his left one moved only slightly. I had to smile in spite of myself.

“Where did you get this information?” he asked.

“Another former member of the Roo & You group. She was asked to leave the group because her kid bit a baby.”

Gary rose, crossed to his desk, and picked up a legal pad. “Really? I used to be a biter.”

I laughed. “Is that where you got your nickname?” Gary looked taken aback.

Oops. Perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned that.

“You know about my nickname?”

I swallowed. Well, my foot was in it now. May as well proceed.

“Sure. Gary the Grizzly.”

He laughed and looked pleased with himself. “My reputation precedes me, huh?”

I smiled.

He scribbled something on the legal pad. “Okay, what else do you know?”

I explained that, according to several sources, Dr. Alan Lipe was having an affair. That he and his wife, Margaret, had fought that evening and Margaret suspected he may have poisoned Helene by mistake.

Gary took notes. When I finished, he looked up. “What else you got?”

“What else do you got?” I countered.

Gary smiled. “Ah. Tough cookie,