Death Loves a Messy Desk by Mary Jane Maffini

thought you would take him from me. He had that thing for you in school. Every time I heard him call you Charlie, I’d just freak. I blamed you.”
    “He’s just a flirt,” I said. “He can’t help it. We always knew that about him. Part of his charm, I guess.”
    She hiccuped. “Part of the challenge.”
    “What changed your mind?”
    “I can’t even talk about it. Let’s say we had a conversation about a transgression and I threw it at him and he threw it back at me. This time I believed him.”
    “I’m glad. I’ve always known that you’re the person he loves.”
    “I hope you’re right,” she said. “There’s more at stake now.”
    “I am.” I wasn’t sure why I was offering this totally unmerited bit of support to Nick, but I was in friendship mode, and grateful to be there, and I thought that was what Pepper needed to hear.
    “That’s good. Because if we’re lucky, we’re finally going to have a baby.”
    I hesitated. There was a lot of subtext in that sentence. If we’re lucky?
    She blurted, “Tell me why Sally can pop out beautiful children as often as she wants and she doesn’t even mess up a curl on her head. And I can’t even . . .”
    Oh boy. This didn’t sound good. I had no idea what to say, or do. I reached over and squeezed her hand.
    She said, “I’ve been having problems. Complications. There could be a premature birth.”
    “Oh Pepper. I’m so sorry. I knew you were off work, but I didn’t realize it was so serious. Is there anything . . . ?”
    “Keep hoping with me, that’s all.”
    “Charlotte?”
    “Yes?”
    “I’m glad we’re friends again.”
    “Me, too.”
    “So stop hogging the Oreos.”
    “Me? Who are you to talk?”
    Sometimes the best thing about reconnecting with a lost friend is what isn’t said. Look forward, move ahead. Cookies and milk for the future. The plate was almost empty by the time Pepper lifted an eyebrow.
    “What?” I said.
    “So what can I do for you?” she said.
    “What? Oh. Right.”
    “You came here for a reason. You didn’t know I had forgiven you. So what do you want?”
    “You’re right. I did have a reason, but I almost forgot because this was—”
    “A special moment. Yeah, yeah. Now cut to the chase.”
    “Ah, I see you haven’t changed that much. Still the cop lady. Okay, I need some advice.”
    “As long as it’s not about some case. I love my job, but right now I’m trying to concentrate on life. I don’t want to hear about violence or crime. It’s all Nick can talk about, although maybe it’s a break from vehicles. Do you know he’s a detective now? That event last year boosted his promotion possibilities. But for me, shop talk doesn’t mesh well with staying positive and pregnant.”
    “I hear you. I just need to know what to do about someone who may or may not be missing, who may or may not be in a very fragile emotional state which may or may not be sort of my fault.”
    “As long as we’re clear about everything.” She popped the last cookie into her mouth and scowled at me.
    I filled Pepper in on the events at Quovadicon, including my reaction to Barb Douglas trying to run me off the road.
    She said, “Explain that to me again.”
    “Well, in retrospect I wonder if that’s what really happened. I’m jumpier than I used to be, and maybe I just overreacted.”
    “Did she try to run you off the road or not?”
    “Here’s the thing. She was on the wrong side of the road. She had kind of a wild look on her face, like she was in a panic or something. So I don’t really know if she was trying to get me, because why would she? She didn’t even know who I was. Or was it something else, some terrible thing that led to her disappearance?”
    “I don’t see where you have any responsibility at all.”
    “I just think if we can make sure she’s all right, then I can walk away from this really strange project and get on with things.”
    “Oh fine, what’s the person’s name