Even so, I wouldn’t give up. Not if I might be able to help Mamie. I’d made the decision to help her, taken it on as a responsibility. That meant I’d continue trying.

But I’d nevertheless have to stop if it took all my time. At the top of my to-do list, now and always, was to take care of the animals at HotRescues and make sure that as many as possible were adopted into appropriate households.

Okay, that was second on my list. First was to ensure that my own kids were doing well—especially since they were in town and I might be able to check on them in person. I called each from my car before getting on the road. Both answered right away, which made me smile. Unsurprisingly, both were in the middle of the plans they’d already made.

So, their take-charge mom wasn’t going to be able to take charge of them just now. But the good thing was that they had compared notes, and both planned to join me for brunch tomorrow before heading back to their campuses. Mom would get a couple of hours of their time. Mom’s treat, of course.

Mom was delighted.

So, next on that ever-growing list? A home visit—one I’d undertaken a week ago without giving notice to my target household, and had not found anyone around. Today was Saturday. I’d brought the phone number along, and the call was answered right away.

Consequently, I would make a stop in Northridge before going to HotRescues.

After heading up the San Diego Freeway and taking surface streets into Northridge, I returned to the house I’d popped in at last week after checking on how Carmen Herrera was doing with her new adopted kitty, Queen J. Again, no dogs greeted me from the large fenced yard, but they barked from inside.

When I rang the bell, Margie Tarbet answered the door immediately. Both Beardsley and Moe sat behind her, wiggling on their butts as if they wanted to leap up and greet me. Obviously, she had trained them well.

Which made me feel even better that they’d found a home with this organized and caring lady.

“How wonderful to see you, Lauren.” She squeezed my hand, and then I entered her small but pristinely maintained house, and was led into her neat, compact living room. That must have been her signal to the dogs, or they took it that way. Both leaped over to me and butted me with their heads, demanding that I pet them. I complied, of course.

Margie, short and a little overweight but dressed nicely in a blue shirt tucked into gray slacks, was a nurses’ aid at a nearby hospital. That had been her profession when she had adopted the medium-sized, black, long-muzzled pup Moe, whose heritage I hadn’t been able to guess, and the gray cat Nemo, whom I hadn’t seen yet today. She’d entered it on our application then, and had done so again a few weeks ago when she’d dropped in and fallen in love with large, red Briard mix Beardsley. A born caretaker. One who loved pets.

A perfect adopter—at least in theory. I had to make sure all was going well.

“Would you like some lemonade?” Margie asked. “I don’t have much around in the way of people treats, but I may be able to find some of my son’s cookies.”

Speaking of whom, a gawky human form came barreling down the hall from the area containing first the kitchen, with a couple of bedrooms in the back. I’d checked it all out on previous visits.

Including the gawky human. He was Margie’s son Davie, a high school student, although I didn’t remember which grade. A senior, I believed.

“Lauren . . . Ms. Vancouver. It’s so nice to see you!” He stopped in front of me, and I saw that Nemo the cat was in his arms, not looking especially thrilled about it. “Mom told me you were on your way. I’ll show you what good care we’re taking of Nemo, Moe, and Beardsley. How are things at HotRescues? Are all your animals okay?”

I knew Davie was a chatterbox. He’d talked nonstop when he’d come with Margie first to look at our residents, then pick the latest one to take home. He had something positive to say about each animal. I had the sense that, if he’d been able to, he’d have taken every one of them home with him. The only time I managed to get him to keep quiet was when I answered his questions about how animals got rescued.

Margie’s round cheeks had turned pink. “Calm down, Davie,” she said in a no-nonsense tone that I figured she must also use while training the dogs.

I just smiled. “Everything at HotRescues is fine,” I said. “You’re welcome to visit anytime.”

“I sent a neighbor to see you,” he responded. “Mrs. Herrera, a few blocks away. She adopted a cat, too, didn’t she? I love to send people to HotRescues. You take such good care of the animals, like Nemo. Animals rock.” He looked down at the bored cat in his arms, hugged her, then put her down. Then he knelt on the floor beside Beardsley and Moe, and the three of them started to wrestle.

I accompanied Margie into her kitchen and sipped some lemonade, just to be friendly. But I’d seen what I needed to here. The two previously adopted animals were thriving, and now so was Beardsley. Margie obviously cared about them, and Davie adored them.

I wished all home visits yielded such positive results.

Since my intent was to help Mamie, which primarily meant ensuring that she wasn’t railroaded, maybe I didn’t need to focus as much on looking for whoever killed Bethany.

Or maybe I did. I never gave up, and the matter hadn’t yet been resolved. An idea for continuing my investigation had started to germinate in my mind.

It might not lead to anything but discord in my life, but what the hell? If anyone could handle it, I could. Hadn’t I survived my horrendous second marriage—and in fact become a better person for it?

But I’d have to lay a little groundwork first.

When I arrived at HotRescues, I said hi to Bev, who was in charge of the welcome room. Nina had gone off to volunteer at one of the city animal care centers.

Next, I took my usual walk through the shelter area, patting all the residents and assuring them that I was looking for the right homes for them and hoped to place them as soon as possible. I’m not sure that Junior, Dodi, or Hannibal, some of our longest-term rescues, still believed me, but I was serious.

I went upstairs in the center building to check in with Angie, our vet tech. Dr. Mona was with her, and I gave them a recap of our latest adoptions. I always liked it when Mona was there to meet prospective adopters in person, but because she was part-time, I relied both on what she had taught me and on her talking to people by phone. If she wasn’t available at all, I felt comfortable approving adoptions on my own, of course, but that wasn’t my preferred way.

Next, I went to my office and called Dante. He answered his cell phone right away. Never mind that he was the CEO of the largest pet supplies retailer in the country, or the benefactor of HotRescues and the wildlife sanctuary Hot-Wildlife. Big, important honcho that he was, he remained accessible.

“Hi, Lauren. What’s going on? I heard on the news that Bethany Urber’s funeral was today. Were you there?”

“Yes. It was definitely a grand affair. She’d have approved. That’s partly the reason I called.” I laid out my plan. “So you may hear that I’m doing something completely out of character, not in HotRescues’ best interests. But it’s not what it’ll sound like, and I have a good reason.”

“I get it,” he said. “That’s one thing I’ve always appreciated about you, Lauren. You take on problems head-on and find solutions. Even when they’re not your problems.”

When we hung up, I took a deep breath, pondering if I really wanted to do this.

The answer was both yes and no, but I’m not a wishywashy person. My mind was made up, and I knew I could control the situation even if it became unpleasant.

I called Cricket Borley next. She, too, answered right away. “I’ve been thinking,” I said, “especially after poor Bethany’s funeral. I’m intrigued by what she started. I’d like to sign HotRescues up for Pet Shelters Together.” My teeth involuntarily clenched after I spoke that lie. I didn’t truly like the idea, but I was following through for other reasons.

Cricket didn’t know that. “That’s wonderful, Lauren! Bethany would have been so pleased. We’re having a planning meeting on Monday night, and it’d be great if you could attend. It’ll be at the Better Than Any Pet Rescues shelter.”

“See you then.” I shook my head as I hung up. It wasn’t a mistake. But it wasn’t something I was proud of, either. Would I come to regret it even more?

Good thing I’d decided to do it, though, since that evening Mamie called me, hysterical—and sounding as confused as the first time she had called me after all those years I hadn’t heard from her.

“Mr. Caramon says those detectives want to talk to me again, Lauren. I don’t have anything else to say to them. Tell him, please.”

“Tell who—a detective?”

“No. Mr. Caramon. Then he can tell the police, and they’ll leave me alone.”

Poor thing. The latest phone call may have driven her nearly over the edge again. “It doesn’t work that way,” I said softly. “You just do whatever Mr. Caramon says, okay?”

“But you’ll still help me, too, won’t you, Lauren?”

“Yes,” I said. “I will.”