What do you do with a man?

Maizie was chasing her tail around in a circle like mad today. What do you do if you catch it, girl? Then I thought about my date tonight. Hmmmm.

11:30 a.m.

I got up feeling a bit fuzzy, then realized I was still Peg Chester. Her hair, her eyelashes, her feeling of near exhaustion. I went into the bathroom to assess the damage of sleeping in full disguise. You see, if I am under cover, I can’t not be the person I’m supposed to be. I know, double negative. The point is, someone might knock on the door, see me when I get the newspaper, be spying on me through the blinds. If for a moment, I’m not who I say I am, I could be found out.

Stevie did a great job. The new foundation she put on me is like spray paint. It even changes the texture of my skin. I had to make a little adjustment to one eyelash and freshen my makeup. Then I was ready for a day in my new identity. Frankly, I can’t wait to get home this afternoon and wash it all off and become the new Deb Riley with my brown curly wig. Oooo. But what to do as Peg Chester. First I had to take Maizie out and that meant putting on those damn shoes again. If I spent very long in this outfit, I’d end up crippled, I swear it. I considered stopping in at Tovoni’s, but in spite of the fact that Jackie says she can see right through my aliases, I’m not enthused about showing them all to her. Maybe because of the fact. Besides, being with Maizie would make it too easy. We walked through the market instead and I got a cup of coffee at the Daybreak Café overlooking the water. They have the best scones. Then we headed to the office.

It was time to work on the voice. I left Maizie in the hall with a firm command to stay and then walked into the office. Cinnamon stood immediately. I like that. There is no reason that a person who greets you in an office should stay seated behind a desk while you are standing in front of them. Cinnamon is more than a receptionist, but being a receptionist is one of her jobs. I want people who come into my office to be welcomed, not feel like they just got to the principal’s desk at school.

“Good morning,” Cinnamon said. She paused and I thought she’d seen through me, but then she continued on. “How may we help you this morning?”

“You can check a computer here, can’t you? I want to know what my son is doing on-line at 2:00 in the morning.” The voice was just about there. Peg is a Midwesterner and there is a certain amount of twang in the accent. But accent is only part of the problem. You have to keep your voice from being recognized. For Peg, that was accomplished with phlegm in the throat. I sucked on a butterscotch candy. They never fail to create a clogging of my throat. Cinnamon seemed to buy it.

“Miss Riley, the investigator, will be here shortly. May I get you a cup of tea or coffee?” I shook my head no. “Did you bring the computer with you? It’s possible Miss Riley will be able to take a look at it right away.” I was satisfied. I wasn’t going to press this because it sometime along the way Cinnamon would figure it out and then it would become a game. Besides, I needed to get into my office and get some work done—in the guise of being a client.

“My dog has it,” I said nonchalantly. “I snapped my fingers twice and Maizie came bolting into the room, skidded on the hardwood and dashed at Cinnamon.

“Maizie?” she said. She looked at me and squinted. “Deb?”

“Hi Cinnamon,” I answered. She was suitably impressed. We chatted for a while and she pointed out that my makeup didn’t extend far enough into my collar line. We fixed it and got started on our assignments. I didn’t go into my office. Today I’m Peg Chester. I’ve got no business being in Deb Riley’s office. But I did need Cinnamon to do a couple of things for me. She went round to get my car and then drove up to Georgia McFearin’s house to see if there was any mail and if the police were finished yet. I called a cab and went to Allied Computer Network Solutions. As executor of Georgia McFearin’s estate, I was entitled to a little more information than they were willing to give Cinnamon on the phone.

The woman I met with was younger than I expected, and prettier. I wondered for a moment if she had ever done time at the condo. I’m so jaded now that I found those few to did and made it good in the business world. But I have to discipline myself. Just because she’s beautiful and young and in a position of responsibility doesn’t mean she didn’t get there through legitimate means. Nonetheless, she proved willing to help me and was careful not to be condescending to my middle-aged stature. After I’d established my credentials we got started.

“Georgia’s father and heir understood that she was working here at Allied for the past four years. Can you confirm her employment record?” I asked.

“I’m sorry,” Janna Price said. “I’m still a bit in shock over the fact that she’s dead. She wasn’t with us here at Allied very long, but that wasn’t because we didn’t like her. She worked here from April 2002 until November 2002. Allied went through a pretty rough patch right about then. The founders were convinced that they’d take it through an IPO, but with the dot com bubble bursting and the aftermath of 9/11, the market just wasn’t right for a public offering. They took out a lot of loans to keep the company viable, but in the long run we had to let a lot of good people go. I’m afraid Georgia was one of them.”

“What kind of work did she do?” I asked.

“She was a systems analyst,” Janna explained. “I could tell you the HR explanation of what she did, but I might as well just give you a copy of the job description. It will make more sense.”

“That would be fine,” I said. “I was never that close to Georgia, but since I’m unemployed at the moment her father asked me to look after the estate. Our mothers were sisters. Of course, Mr. McFearin’s interest in Allied is strictly one of determining if there is a retirement account and where it is held. And of course, trying to figure out why his daughter would tell him she was working here ever since moving to Seattle when she’s been gone from her for so long.”

“Speaking as a human resources person,” Janna said, “I’ll tell you that a lot of people find it difficult to admit that they’ve lost their jobs, especially to family members who might disapprove or think less of them. The father-daughter relationship, even when they’ve reached… well, your age, is the toughest of all.”

“I suppose so. Do you happen to know who she went to work for next?”

“No, I’m afraid not. I’ve been trying to think if there was anyone I could have you talk to, but I’ve come up with a blank,” Janna said. “I tell you what; I’ll send an email to the people who were in that department when she worked here—those who are still here—and ask if anyone knows where she went to work after Allied. Do you mind if I give them your contact info? Now as to the retirement account, that is handled by Dain Bosworth. Here is the contact information for their group, but she only contributed into the 401k for eight months. I doubt that there is much there unless she supplemented it with something else.”

“Thank you for your help, Miss Price,” I said.

“Mrs.” She smiled and turned a photo around on the desk that showed her with a nice young man and two small children. My, my. Young, beautiful, successful, and a mother and wife at the same time. I hate her. “Goodbye, Ms. Chester. I am so sorry for your loss.”

I left and took a cab back home. I wearily climbed the steps and sat down for a bite of lunch. Now I’m going to get out of Peg Chester and get back into Deb Riley. I’ve got a date tonight.

11:30 p.m.

Cinnamon and I have been giggling all night, first at the game and then here at the apartment afterward. Our dates seemed to be fine with the fact that we were going home with each other and not them. It’s like a sleep-over when you are a kid, I suppose. Except I never had one. So, I’m making up for lost time. We’ve been tittering about our men, trying to figure out what they are up to. Tom loved my new look, never let go of my hand all evening long, and made me feel like a million bucks. What I truly love is that we talked no shop at all. I didn’t once ask him about his cases and he didn’t even ask why I’m headed to Savannah in the morning. Apparently Jordan is treating Cinnamon like a queen and she is lapping it up.

How soon can you say you are in a relationship? Tom asked if he could see me next weekend and of course I said yes. I’m hoping we can get to know each other a little better before I start filling in all the blanks with my fantasies. It just seems to weird. The idea of actually dating a guy I like, I mean. He’s funny, smart, beautiful, and funny. Did I mention that? What are you supposed to do with a man?

Oops. Cinnamon has just declared that we are not sleeping tonight. She is not getting up at 4:30 in the morning. We are just going to stay up. As soon as I’ve got everything I need packed, we’re headed for Denny’s!