Bride & Groom

outdoors alone at night with, I might add, no protection at all?”
    “Spike heels are a very effective weapon.” Rita cracked a little smile. I refilled her wineglass. “And I wasn’t ‘wandering around.’ Artie and I went to dinner, and he has an early flight to catch tomorrow, so he dropped me off, and the only reason he didn’t walk me to the door is that thanks to my dutiful landlady, the driveway is brighter than the Sahara at noon, so I could hardly be said to have been outdoors after dark, could I?”
    “You certainly could. In fact, you were. And the garage of The Charles, where Laura Skipcliff was killed, is anything but dark, and it’s indoors. And Bonny Carr was killed in the parking lot behind her building, which must’ve had lights. You should’ve made Artie walk you to the door.”
    “I’m not in the habit of making Artie or anyone else do things. I’m a therapist. Remember? I don’t make people do things.”
    “We’re not talking about your patients’ mental health. We’re talking about your physical safety.”
    “I’m safe,” Rita said. “So, are you going to tell me what you were doing outdoors alone at night? With a gun?”
    “I heard a noise.” My statement undoubtedly sounded as childish in Rita’s ears as it did in mine. “Really. And you’ve heard Kevin on the subject of people who call nine-one-one about a noise. And Kevin’s out with Jennifer, so I couldn’t just to have him come over. And I knew what I heard, Rita. I heard a footstep around the corner of the house.”
    “You heard a footstep from indoors?”
    “I was taking out the trash. Rowdy raided the trash under the sink, and he and Kimi got into a fight over it. They made a real mess. And I didn’t want the garbage bag sitting on the counter or in the hall.”
    “You couldn’t wait for Steve to get home?”
    “I didn’t know when he’d get here. I still don’t know. You know what Steve’s like. It’s perfectly possible that he’ll sleep on the floor next to the cat’s cage. Or with the cat in his arms. So I ran out.”
    “Maybe stupidity is the true basis of our friendship.” Rita raised her glass.
    I raised mine. “Friends,” I said.
    “Forever.”
    The clinking alerted Rowdy and Kimi, who’d been dozing on the floor. They loved Rita, but considered her to be a rather uninteresting guest, mainly because she never gave them human food or drink, and certainly never wrestled with them.
    Instead of discussing our friendship, I said, “We found a restaurant for the rehearsal dinner.” I went on to tell her about Nuages, a far easier topic than my strong suspicion that the man I’d seen in Artie Spicer’s car had, in fact, been Artie. Rita insisted on seeing the wedding presents that had been arriving daily. The latest was an electric quesadilla maker.
    “Returnable?” Rita asked.
    “No. It’s from my horrible cousin Janice. She probably got it at a yard sale.”
    “Is she coming to the shower?”
    “No. We didn’t invite her. Remember? Because if we had, she’d’ve turned up here two days early with all of her dogs and expect Steve to update all their shots for free and expect us to keep our dogs crated the entire time she was here. Inviting her to the wedding was a concession to Buck. Her dogs are very definitely not invited.” Janice had fox terriers, both smooth-coated and wirehaired, and more of both varieties than she could manage properly. The dogs weren’t the problem; they’d have been fine if they’d belonged to someone else. “Speaking of the shower, it’s a week from tomorrow, and you and Ceci still haven’t assigned me a task.”
    “Ceci and I are giving it. Period. Leah is helping. And there won’t be all that much to do. Afternoon tea. Coffee, tea, pastries, little sandwiches with the crusts cut off.”
    After we’d talked yet more about my wedding, I realized that I’d asked Rita nothing about herself. Ordinarily, I’d have asked about Artie, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I raised the subject of her psychotherapy practice. “Whatever happened to your truth woman?” I asked.
    “Who?”
    “The patient you told me about at the mall. At dinner. She dropped out of therapy, and you were wondering whether she’d come back. She thought her husband was cheating on her, and you thought she was telling you her truth.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt a ghastly conviction that Rita would correctly interpret my underlying