Seven Minutes to Noon

all I got, aside from Ray here.”
    Frannie and Giometti insisted on dropping Alice off at Simon’s house. She rode in the backseat, watchingscenes of the neighborhood flash by from the open police car window. The air was a weave of cool and warm breezes — the end of summer, autumn’s approach.
    They pulled up in front of Simon’s house.
    “Don’t go anywhere,” Frannie said as Alice stepped onto the curb and slammed shut the back door of the blue sedan.
    Alice hesitated. “Is that an order?” She smiled as if she were joking, but they all knew she wasn’t.
    “Not really.” Frannie leaned into the open window, eyes squinted, desperate for rest. “We might need you, Alice.”
    “But—” Alice wanted to argue that she was no longer needed. Sylvie had revealed herself. As had Julius Pollack. Somehow, they were both related to the crimes.
    “Forensics analyzed the prints at the crime scene.” Frannie’s eyes were steady on Alice, doling out one crumb of information to pique Alice’s curiosity, fuel her insomnia and glue her to here. “Sylvie’s were the only match, besides about a dozen Mr. Frosty drivers, every one of whom we have tracked down and crossed off our list.”
    “Julius Pollack?”
    “Nope.”
    “Sal Cattaneo?”
    “Nope. And not Judy Gersten, either, in case you’re wondering.”
    “So you’re saying that Sylvie did this all alone?”
    Alice stepped closer to the car, bending down a little to catch Frannie’s eye, but the detective just shook her head. She had that no assumptions look on her face as she slid the stick shift into gear and drove away.

Chapter 42
    The friends decided collectively to stay put, hold tight, and resume normal life; it would be best for the children and also for themselves. And so the next morning, Mike and Simon took Ethan, Nell and Peter to their respective schools. Mike then went to his workshop in Red Hook and Simon subwayed into Manhattan to teach a late morning class. Maggie and Alice had a few hours alone in the house before Blue Shoes was due to open at eleven. Two days had passed since Sylvie’s great escape and one day since Pam’s awakening. If anything was going to happen today, the detectives would know where to find them: at home or at work, pursuing the possibility of a regular day.
    It was just past nine in the morning when the doorbell rang. Alice and Maggie, who were in the kitchen finishing their morning coffee and tea, looked at each other.
    “Maybe we shouldn’t answer it,” Maggie said.
    “It’s probably just a delivery.” Alice pulled her pink chenille robe closed over her massive tummy. “Unless,” she smiled archly, “it’s Simon’s secret lover.”
    “Or a mad killer, after you!” Maggie laughed her sharpest cackle, and both women flew to the front hall. Maggie reached the door first, glanced at Alice and turned the knob.
    Standing on the front stoop was neither lover nor killer but a true surprise. Lizzie, in full California flower — tanned and wearing a pale yellow pants suit — heldout the morning paper as if she had simply stopped by to deliver it.
    “Mom!” Alice shouted.
    “Babydoll.” Lizzie embraced Alice, who felt herself melting in her mother’s arms. “How could I stay away?”
    Alice wiped the mascara-tinted tears off Lizzie’s cheeks. “They’re okay,” Alice said. “They’re back at school. Everything’s okay.”
    “How could everything be okay?” Lizzie composed herself. “That would be impossible, wouldn’t it?”
    Maggie picked up Lizzie’s red suitcase from the front stoop’s landing, carried it into the foyer and shut the door.
    “Hello, Maggie.” Lizzie offered a cheek and the two women did a double air-kiss. “How are you?”
    “Addled, as usual. Men trouble, you know.” Maggie offered Lizzie her most brilliant smile.
    “So you’re back with your husband, I see.” Lizzie walked into Simon’s living room and looked around. “Very nice. A little baroque, but basically I like it.”
    At the word baroque Maggie’s eyes found Alice’s and rolled dramatically.
    “Actually Simon and I are not back together, not officially.” Maggie joined Lizzie in the living room. Alice followed her mother and her friend, who had always managed to get along despite an underlying competitiveness; Alice hoped this would not be the moment it bred fireworks. “I decorated the entire house myself. Simon, of course, is free to redecorate, but I must say he hasn’t changed a