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"Not that I know of." He offered a hand. "I'm John." "Carol," I said, feeling my skin warm when he held on a little longer than necessary. Was he flirting, or just slow? Relax and find out, I told myself, leaving my hand where it was and taking a step closer. "Why haven't I seen you around?" "Probably because I haven't been here long." He let go abruptly and reached into my pocket, pulling out my tape recorder. "What's this for?" My smile drooped. This was definitely not flirting. More like frisking, which meant this guy probably had more to do with Madelyn's security than Jill's kitchen. "Inspirational tapes," I said. "You know, affirmations. I'm a good person. People like me. What the hell's your problem, that sort of thing." I snatched the recorder back and tucked it into my pocket. "If you'll excuse me." "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I'm a cop, and naturally suspicious." He gave me one of those smiles I could grow to like. "It's one of the issues I'm working on." I didn't believe him for a moment, but then again, I didn't think I was supposed to. And when he said, "What's going on in there now?" I figured it wouldn't hurt to stay a little longer. I turned and peered through the crack one more time. "Looks like Donny Robinson is getting himself thrown out, and Madelyn is heading this way." We flattened ourselves against the wall behind the door while security led Donny to the front door and Madelyn glided up the stairs alone. I sighed and peeked into the room again. "We obviously missed the best part of the show, although it's still better than television. Beautiful people, petty jealousies, fattening food ..." I glanced back at John. "Are you a guest?"
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