Vanessa shifted in her seat, listening intently for any sounds that Joe might accidentally make as he searched for evidence that would connect Maggie to Emma's death. Earlier that evening she had loaned her pager to him and made arrangements to have her mother call during dinner. Then, he would slip quietly into the house through the back, courtesy of Nancy, and begin his search while the rest of the group kept Maggie and Steven occupied.

So far, everything seemed to be going well. Judging from the look shared between Nancy and Frank when Nancy came out of the kitchen a few minutes earlier, Joe had made it upstairs. Now they only had to keep Maggie and Steven both occupied while Joe made his search. Giving the entrance to the dining room one final glance, Vanessa turned to Steven.

"So," she said, smiling brightly. "Callie told us the other night that you guys all met in college."

"Yes, we did," Steven replied, leaning against the back of the armchair he’d sat down on.

"Got any interesting stories to share?" she asked. "Callie and I used to get into scrapes all the times with these guys here," she said, waving a hand in Frank’s direction.

"Isn’t that the truth!" Frank replied, smirking slightly.

She gave him a sideways glance. "Oh yeah! That’s it! Grin about it. Just remember, if we were in trouble, you two usually got us into it."

"Sure," Frank admitted. "But we also got you out of it. As I recall, once in awhile, you girls even managed to find trouble on your own." He took a fleeting look at Nancy, who had joined them, settling in next to Frank on the sofa. "Kind of like someone else I know."

"I saw that look," Nancy said. "If you’re referring to me, I’ll have you know that I can find trouble perfectly well without your help, thank you very much." She looked thoughtful for a moment, then continued. "And why am I suddenly glad that Joe was not here to comment on that last statement?"

Everyone laughed. Frank put one arm lightly around her shoulders. "I don’t know, Nan. Maybe because he’d have fun with it

Vanessa chuckled. "Fun? That’s putting it lightly. Joe always has the perfect retort." She turned back to Steven and Maggie. "So, spill. What kind of mischief did Callie manage to get into at college? I want the good stuff too. Something I can have fun teasing her with should the opportunity arise." She winked at conspiratorially at Maggie.

Upstairs, Joe moved silently along the hallway, peering into several rooms until he came to the one that he assumed was Maggie's bedroom. "Am I the only person on this planet who doesn't care how messy their bedroom is?" he asked himself as he took in the ultra neat and seemingly well organized room. Sighing over the fact that he'd have to be extra careful to get everything back into it's original place, he debated over where to begin his search.

Kneeling in front of a small maple nightstand, he pulled the top drawer out, and methodically rifled through it, examining the handful of papers and miscellaneous objects contained within. He glanced at the cover of a paperback horror novel, then flipped through the pages, nearly laughing at the bookmark. 'Somehow,' he thought, 'fluffy kittens and vampire stories just don't seem to go together.'

Finding nothing of interest in the drawer, he closed it and stood up. Moving to the dresser, he lifted neatly folded stacks of t-shirts, shorts, and other items of clothing. Other than discovering that Maggie had a taste for bright colors, Joe found nothing that they could use in their case.

Moving to a set of shelves that housed a handful of figurines, several books, and a small TV set, Joe bit his bottom lip and frowned in disgust. Still nothing. Hands on his hips, he glanced around the room again. There had to be something....

Walking over to the closet, he opened the door. Here Joe found himself faced with a color coded set of drawers and cubbies. 'When did I transport into Martha Stewart's house?' he asked himself as he began pilfering through each storage unit. Winter clothing, scarves, socks, accessories, and other such things slid through his fingers. Near the bottom, he found a stash of papers. From the looks of them, they appeared to be college assignments. At the bottom of the stack, he found a wire bound journal. ‘Class notes?’ he wondered, as he flipped through the notebook, prepared to close the lid on the box and try elsewhere.

Joe found himself forgetting the remaining college papers, intrigued by what was apparently a short story written for a creative writing class. Written in the margins, in red ink, were notes and comments. Some obviously made by a professor; while others were written in the handwriting of the story's author. Joe closed the journal, studying the front cover. Up in the right hand corner were the words - Intro to the Writing Process Maggie Westbrook Section 4.

Glancing at the luminous face of his watch, Joe was suddenly shocked to find that he'd been upstairs for over twenty minutes. 'Oh man,' he thought to himself. 'I'm going to have to get out of here.' Replacing the lid on the box, he deftly pushed it back into the cubby, then put the pair of red pumps that had stood guard in front of it back in their place.

Peering around the door frame, Joe stuffed the journal inside his shirt and started down the hallway. Hearing voices at the bottom of the stairs, he dove quickly into the bedroom next to Maggie's. Pressing his ear to the door, he strained to listen. Praying that no one was coming, he opened the door slightly and peered out. Standing at the top of the stairs, her short red hair shining in the light, was Melissa. She appeared to be arguing with someone standing below her. ‘Probably Maggie,’ he thought to himself, thinking back to the display he’d seen earlier.

Closing the door as quietly as possible, he turned around. One glance told him that he’d picked the wrong room to hide in. Taking in the tall four poster bed with a lace trimmed bedspread and matching curtains, he groaned. He’d stepped right into Melissa’s bedroom. Hearing her footsteps coming down the hall, he searched frantically for a place to hide. His first thought was the closet. However, if she decided to change clothes for any reason, and opened the door... Not good. Surveying the four poster bed with it’s floor length lace skirt, he made a quick decision. Dropping to all fours, he quickly slithered under the bed. Just as the skirt fell into place, he heard the door open.

Flat on his stomach amidst the clutter stowed under Melissa’s bed, Joe allowed himself one small, albeit silent sigh of relief. He hadn’t been discovered. Now if only she’d leave. He watched as she kicked off her shoes, sending one flying against the far wall. The other dropped next to the bed. Listening, he could hear the sounds of jewelry being dropped onto the dresser; followed by the groaning of the box spring above him as she flopped down on the bed.

Not what he’d had in mind. Dropping his head onto his arms, he waited. It wasn’t even 9 o’clock at night. Surely she wasn’t going to bed already! The springs above him swayed as he saw Melissa’s bare feet hit the floor. Before Joe could feel that he was about to be reprieved, music started. Stifling a moan of despair, Joe could only listen as the sound of sugary boy band music filled the room. Fighting the urge to bang his head against the floor, Joe attempted to rearrange himself into a slightly more comfortable position.

Minutes passed at a snail’s pace as Joe waited for someone to rescue him from his predicament. He could hear Melissa’s voice as she complained to a friend on the telephone about her sister. How bossy Maggie was. How Maggie just didn’t understand her. How... Despite the torment of Melissa’s choice of music, Joe had to grin. He could almost picture himself at 15, saying nearly the same things about Frank. He slid the lid from a shoe box stored under the bed and amused himself by sorting through the pictures and other small trinkets Melissa had kept. Flipping through a small blue address book, Joe stopped. Interesting, he thought. She had the addresses of her teachers written down. Now how many teenagers actually cared about where their teachers lived? Before he could search further, he heard a loud knock on the bedroom door.

"Melissa?"

The music continued. Melissa didn’t answer.

"Melissa? Open the door."

Melissa uttered a loud theatrical sigh, hopped off the bed, and went to the door. "What?" she demanded.

"Nancy and Frank would like to talk to you," Steven said.

"So. Why do I care? I don’t even know them." She started to shut the door, but he could see Steven plant his foot in the way.

"Because Maggie does. Maggie has been singing your praises to them all evening, despite the fact that lately you’ve been acting like a spoiled brat. Maggie told Nancy how hard you’ve been working to buy a car; and Frank wants to talk to you about the possibility of babysitting their little girl this summer. It will get you a lot closer to having a that car by the time you turn 16." Steven waited as she thought it over.

She tapped her foot. "Oh, all right." she said. "Let me find my other shoe. Joe shrank back further under the bed as Melissa bent over and picked up her sandal with her left hand. Sliding it on her foot, she hopped over to the other shoe and slipped her foot into it.

As Melissa started out the door, Joe heard Steven tell her "Be nice. Frank seems like a pretty good guy. If you even stand a chance of babysitting for them, you’re going to have to present a much better personality than the one you displayed at dinner."

‘Amen to that’, Joe thought as he scurried out from under the bed. ‘And the babysitting thing better be a ruse to get her downstairs because no way is that girl getting near my niece with her attitude! I don’t care how smart she is!’ Stretching, he listened at the doorway for a moment. Deciding the coast was clear, he descended the stairs. Vanessa was leaning against the doorway to the living room. She glanced in his direction, then appeared to turn her attention back to the conversation. Casually, she slid one hand behind her back and motioned for Joe to go. Grinning, he slipped through the kitchen, into the mudroom, and out the back door.

Several minutes later, Joe knocked on the front door of Maggie’s house. He smiled at Maggie as she opened it. "Sorry I took so long," he told her. "I sort of got held up."

She gave him a strange look, then returned the smile. "It’s ok," she said. "Did you get your friend to work?"

"Oh, yeah," Joe said. "He’s on the clock right now, doing what he does best."

Joining Vanessa, he planted a kiss on her cheek. "So," he said, "What did I miss?"

She eyed him critically. "Just conversation. We were gossiping a little."

"Hmmm...gossip? About me?" He grinned.

"Well, not until now," Steven said. He raised his eyebrows at Joe. "Where did you take your friend, exactly?"

"Huh?" Joe said. Frank stifled a groan.

"You’re covered head to toe in dust." Steven told him.

Joe looked down at his clothes. Cheeks reddening, he looked back up. "Umm, he works for a cleaning service that takes care of some of the businesses around town. I, umm, helped him and the other guy he works with move a large cabinet to try to retrieve a computer disk that was dropped behind it earlier. Guess I got kind of dusty, didn’t I?"

Frank sat back in relief, shooting Joe a glare. He was trying his best not to reach out and strangle Joe for not dusting himself off before knocking on the door. Vanessa caught the look and stood up.

"I’ve had a lovely time tonight, Maggie. And it was very nice to meet you, Steven." She looked at her friends apologetically. "But I have to go to work early tomorrow, so I’m going to have to call it a night. I hope you don’t mind."

"Not at all," Nancy said, joining her. "Not that I’m eager to leave, but I need to get Laurie before she falls asleep on Mr. and Mrs. Hardy."

"So if she does, leave her there. It would tickle Mom to let her spend the night." Joe said. Nancy swiveled her head to stare at him. Sensing that he’d said the wrong thing, he tried again. "Of course," he said, "since she just spent the night with us a couple of nights ago, you probably want her at home tonight."

"Yes," Maggie said. "I could see that. You’re probably just getting her into a regular schedule since the big move."

Nancy nodded. "Exactly. But I did enjoy the evening out. I’ll have to invite the two," she glanced at Melissa and smiled, "make that three of you over to my home for dinner soon. If Shaun’s not sleeping over at a friend‘s house, you should bring him along to play with Laurie."

Frank and Joe joined the girls in their goodbyes and went with them to the car. As Joe pulled away, Frank couldn’t resist saying to him, "What, Joe, you’ve never heard of a Dustbuster?"

"Funny!" Joe exclaimed as his companions laughed. "Where were you guys? Do you know what I went through up there?"

"Honestly, no," Nancy offered. "We had to come up with something to get her downstairs. That took a few minutes."

"Try at least ten," Joe said.

"It wasn’t that long," Frank replied.

"Trust me," Joe said. "It was. The longest ten minutes of my life. I was stuck under a lace covered bed with the dust bunnies and an assortment of teenage girl’s junk while listening to the soothing sounds of the Backstreet Boys!"

Nancy chuckled. "Poor Joe," she said.

"Darn right!" he replied, sending everyone into another round of laughter.

"I’m almost afraid to ask," Frank said. "But did you find anything to tie Maggie to Emma’s death?"

"Maybe," Joe said.

"Maybe?" Vanessa asked.

"Look under the seat."

Vanessa slid her hand under the seat and came up with a spiral notebook. "This?" she asked doubtfully.

Joe nodded in affirmation.

"Uh, Joe," Frank said. "If there’s a confession in there, you just messed up by taking it."

"Nope," he said. "No confession. But there might be enough information to get a confession out of her."

Vanessa skimmed through the pages. "Joe, this looks like a story for a class. I don’t understand how this could help your case."

"Because," he replied, "it appears to be a story about a woman who kills her friend in order to get the man they both love."

Nancy leaned forward. "How does she kill her?"

Joe grinned into the rearview mirror. "I don’t know yet. But when I finish reading it, I’ll let you know."

"When you finish?" Frank inquired.

"Yeah," Joe answered. "When I finish. After all, I’m the one nearly died from overexposure to the little drama queen’s sugar pop boy band music, while being stuck under a teenage girl’s bed. I’ve earned first rights to read it!"

Frank rolled his eyes. He leaned toward Nancy, and in a stage whisper said, "Look who’s calling who dramatic."

Joe gave Frank a mock glare in the rearview mirror. "I heard that."

Frank gave his brother an angelic smile. "I know."