Skating Under the Wire: A Mystery (Rebecca Robbins Mysteries) by Joelle Charbonneau

in here, do you?”
    “Probably not.” Although anything was possible. “Do you know if Jan and Seth trust a neighbor with their spare key?”
    “I doubt it.” He shrugged his slight shoulders. “Seth likes his privacy. He doesn’t let many people come inside his house, and when he does they aren’t left alone. Jan says not to take it personally, that he’s always been that way, but I can’t help being a little freaked out when someone follows me to the bathroom and stands outside the door to escort me back. Reginald thinks Seth must be hiding hot televisions or a serious S&M fetish. I think he’s just plain old crazy.”
    Maybe. Or maybe whatever Seth was secretive about was the reason the thief had targeted him ten years ago. A few more quick questions gave me Jan and Seth’s typical schedule. The two ran errands on Mondays. The rest of their week was split between walking the dogs and hanging out at the senior center, doing Jazzercise and playing Scrabble. Unless I wanted to help collect dog poop or brave being a doggy snack, I’d have to catch them during one of their forays to the center.
    Armed with a plan and a tin of cookies, I headed for the Nothing Borrowed Nothing Blue Bridal Boutique. It was time to set aside my criminal investigation for something far more harrowing—a dress fitting.
    The boutique on the north side of town was located on the same street as a weight-loss center, an attorney’s office, and the building that was shared by a dentist and a shrink. A bride could get her teeth whitened, sweat off excess pounds to fit into that ideal dress, draw up the prenup, and have a breakdown from the stress all without moving her car. The only thing missing was a liquor store. For that you had to hoof it a few blocks. I guess the town planners couldn’t control everything.
    The store’s owner, Tilly Ferguson, looked to be lamenting the lack of alcohol when the bell above the front door announced my arrival. The woman was dressed in the same colors as her store’s decor—gray skirt, ruffled white shirt, and sensibly soled gray shoes. Between the clothes and her bouffant salt-and-pepper hair, the woman looked like a black-and-white movie begging to be colorized. Which is probably why Erica the Red sitting in the middle of the salon’s gray couch had Tilly looking like she was going to pass out.
    With her cascading magenta hair, Erica the Red lived up to her name. The unnaturally red hair clashed violently with the pink-and-silver EstroGenocide T-shirt she was sporting, but Erica didn’t seem to mind. Erica liked taking risks. No doubt that was part of her motivation for going into Roller Derby in the first place.
    “Hey, Rebecca.” Erica unfurled herself from the sofa. “How’s the investigation? The girls are stoked that you’ve become an official PI. If you need a couple of bodyguards, let us know. Things have been a little dull now that the season is over.”
    My life had become entertainment for a group of girls who celebrated hip checks and fishnet stockings. How lucky was I?
    “I should be okay on my own. The thief doesn’t have a history of violence.” Not to people, dogs, or property. Which, now that I thought about it, was kind of odd.
    “Your grandfather seems to think the thief could change his pattern now that you’re involved.”
    Sigh. “Why were you talking to Pop?”
    She grinned. “He’s working Halle, Anna, and me into his act as backup singers. None of us can sing, but that doesn’t seem to matter.”
    Of course it didn’t.
    Before the conversation could disintegrate further, I asked, “Where’s Danielle? We should get started on the fitting.”
    Tilly cleared her throat. “Danielle called a few minutes before you arrived. She had some kind of emergency and asked that we start without her.”
    I tried to decide whether I was worried or relieved that Danielle wasn’t here to freak out about hemlines and broken frames. Since being worried would only result in my