Cat in a hot pink Pursuit

action.”
    “You’ve got a point. This is a ‘reality’ show but the action is strangely unreal. You might even say surreal.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “Surreal?” Temple smiled at Midnight Louie, now sprawled out in the vast wasteland between her and Mariah’s sides of the gigantic bed. “Surreal is sort of like saying this big black cat here is our personal bodyguard.”
    “Who’d want a cat for a bodyguard? I’d want Enrique Iglesias. Who’d you want?”
    Temple considered. “Not Kevin Costner.”
    “Who?”
    Oops. Already over a decade out of date. “Ummm.” Nobody Mariah might know came to mind. “The Pink Panther.”
    ‘The Pink Panther? Who’s that?”
    And that gave Temple an opening to tell a fairy story about a world long ago and far away and very funny. She took them both miles away from the Teen Queen Castle with its secrets and strangers and perplexing puzzles that seemed to lead nowhere.



Home Sweet
    Harassment

    Molina couldn’t believe it. Only five days at the Teen Queen Castle and Temple Barr had phoned to report four incidents of threats and harassment. All of it sounded pretty amateur, but even one loose cannon in that hothouse situation was bad news.
    She certainly had time to think this whole thing over at home. The house felt incredibly empty without Mariah in it, so empty that she hadn’t been able to sleep. This did not bode well for the coming teen dating years.
    The competition house was being watched around the clock. It would have been hard enough to send Mariah off on her first independent stay away from home under normal circumstances. To do it under the wacky auspices of a reality TV show was way worse. To have edgy little acts of violence surrounding the Teen Queen competition made it a mother’s nightmare.
    She wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. The ostensible reason was to feed the cats, Caterina and Tabitha, who were also up and hyper, looking lean, mean, and neglected. Meee-ow. Feed me. Their girly caretaker was gone.
    Not to worry. Mama to the rescue.
    The underlying reason to feed the cats was to search the fruit/vegetable drawer, then the freezer, for something sweet, fatty, and delicious.
    No such animal in the Molina household.
    Drat!
    Wait!
    What the heck is this?
    A non-Weight Watchers frozen dessert.
    Caramel. Chocolate. Six hundred calories. Thirty-three carbs. Eighteen grams of fat...
    Mariah must have imported this anti-diet bomb to the family fridge.
    No, she’d been fanatic about low-fat, low-carb foods the past month. Probably because she’d been hoping to get The Call from the Teen Queen people.
    How could a detective-mother have missed that change of habit?
    Been a little busy at work?
    Molina balanced the frozen dessert package on one palm, weighing its presence here as well as its calories.
    The frozen package chilled her hand. The icy chill drove deeper as she realized... this wasn’t just some forgotten purchase. This was another “gift” from the anonymous stalker.
    She slid the kitchen drawer open and pulled out a large plastic baggie, one-handed. The frozen container might not hold prints and there probably wouldn’t be prints anyway, but she would check.
    Meanwhile, her daughter was on her own in the Teen Queen Castle, which was also beset by stalker incidents.
    Okay. Temple Barr was on the teen scene. Not bad for an amateur. A gifted snoop. But no professional.
    What to do?
    For one wild moment, Molina wanted to rip the dessert from the protective baggie, gobble it down, eat the evidence, take two aspirin, and think about it in the morning
    She picked up her cell phone.
    Something bad in the neighborhood? Who you gonna call?
    What was happening with Mariah, and how could a mother under siege deal with it? Not to mention Rafi Nadir stalking out of her past like a mummy brought to life.
    Who you gonna call?
    The latest number on her instant dial was Larry Pad- Ï dock’s. Paddock. Hip, available, suddenly there and suddenly interested.
    Not... unattractive. Probably a damn good under- j cover cop.
    Suddenly there.
    Molina hit a pre-programmed number. It was answered despite the late hour, thank God, but she’d expected no less.
    “Molina. No, not exactly. Got a minute? Or twenty. Good. Thanks, Morrie.”



The Extent of the Law

    Matt still saw stars, not his fellow guests on today’s live edition of The Amanda Show, but from the intense television studio lights.
    The lights made everything