as a fiftyish woman with unnaturally red hair filled their feeding dishes.
“I wonder how Frannie and Bill are getting along?” Phoebe mused.
Red-haired Frannie, with her brightly colored clothes and beehive hairdo, made an odd contrast to the soft-spoken building superintendent who lived in a nearby unit. The two had been edging toward each other for months and finally seemed to be hitting it off, but had parted after a jealous quarrel.
Apparently Bill had also noticed the cat noises. The large, usually jovial man, returning from one of his periodic inspections of the premises, stopped near the pool and gazed wistfully toward Frannie.
She ignored him, and after a moment Jeff Hawkin, the handyman, stuck his head out of the laundry room and requested Bill’s attention. Daisy hoped they were fixing the number three dryer, which ate quarters.
“Pale-pink might work,” Phoebe suggested, returning to their previous conversation.
“Pale pink with what?” Elise asked.
“White?” said Daisy. “No, too boring. How about three colors? Pale pink with black and white?”
“Black? At a wedding?” Elise groaned.
“Let’s go try on dresses and figure out what colors look good on us,” Phoebe said. “That way Daisy and I can buy something we might actually wear again.”
“What if chartreuse looks good on you?” grumped their friend. “Oh, good, here comes big brother. Let’s see what he thinks.”
To her horror Daisy spotted an all-too-familiar figure strolling from the lobby into the courtyard. It had been sheer coincidence that had kept her from meeting Chance before that ill-fated night of the engagement party. Why couldn’t she have the same luck now?
Frantically she gazed around for somewhere to hide. Giving up, she sucked in her breath and sank under the water.
Chapter Two
Chance smiled when he glimpsed his sister and her two friends lolling in the pool. He liked women and enjoyed their company, which was a good thing, since he had seven younger sisters.
He’d scarcely cleared the lobby, however, when a strange-looking woman, standing ankle deep in cats on her patio, regarded him sharply. Her name, he recalled from a previous visit, was Frannie.
“Be careful around those girls,” she said. “Two of them are engaged and the other one’s peculiar.”
“Peculiar?” He wondered what had provoked this unsolicited observation. On the other hand, he had to admit that Elise’s disappearing friend Daisy did seem a bit odd. In the few seconds he’d been distracted by the cat lady, the woman he guessed was Daisy had vanished again as if by magic.
He’d glimpsed her once in hair curlers and a globby green face mask, and another time, from the back, in a flimsy bathrobe. Both times she’d fled from Elise’s place to her next-door unit without acknowledging him.
“She’s an artist,” said the woman. “You never see her out painting anything, though. Peculiar, if you ask me. I’d stay clear, if I were you.”
“Thanks.” He was about to turn away when he caught Frannie’s wink. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Just wanted to see how much you’d believe!” She chuckled. “You’re Elise’s brother, aren’t you?”
“That’s right. And you really had me going.” The lady was quite a character, Chance thought in amusement.
Resuming his approach to the pool, he tried vainly to figure out how Daisy could have disappeared so quickly. “Where’s your other friend?” he called to Elise.
She pointed into the water. “Drowning.” She didn’t sound concerned, so he assumed she was kidding. “We need your advice.”
“I get paid for my advice.” Chance paused a few feet away. “Since you’re my sister, I’ll work on contingency.”
“Don’t you think yellow looks horrible on blondes?” said Phoebe. The blond woman was stunning, he noted for the umpteenth time. There’d never been any chemistry between them, though, just friendly banter.
“I refuse to incriminate myself,” he said.
“Spoken like a lawyer,” said his sister.
“And deep-rose would look simply horrible with…that. Agreed?” Phoebe indicated some reddish brown hair floating on the water, obviously attached to their pal Daisy’s head.
“I plead the fifth amendment,” Chance said. “Don’t you think she’s been under there a long time?”
“She’s a good swimmer,” said Elise. “Well, a good dog paddler, anyway.”
“She isn’t swimming, she’s floating,” he pointed out.
“We absolutely have to pick the wedding colors,” Phoebe said.
“You mean, I have to pick them!” said his sister.
“I’m getting a little concerned about your friend.” Chance didn’t want to overdramatize the situation by plunging into the pool fully clothed, but the woman’s lungs must be near bursting.
“She’s fine,” Elise said. “Her hands are moving under the water. If she’d lost consciousness, she couldn’t maintain a vertical position.”
Chase knelt at the edge of the pool. The hair bobbed upward, then lowered again. The woman was deliberately staying down there, all right, but why was she behaving so bizarrely?
Phoebe joined Chance at the side of the pool. She was focused on Daisy, looking concerned. “Is she on medication?” he asked.
“Maybe hormones. I think she has what they used to call a female condition,” said Phoebe, her face suddenly turning red. “Maybe I shouldn’t have shared that with you. It just slipped out in my worry.”
“Hormones don’t make a person act like a lunatic. At least, I don’t think so.” Chance’s own lungs were aching in sympathy. Unable to stand the suspense, he reached into the pool and grasped the woman’s shoulders, getting his jacket cuffs and watch soaked in the process.
She had smooth shoulders, he noticed distractedly. Touching her bare skin gave him a slight tingle.
When he pulled, she shot to the surface, gasping and sputtering. Waterlogged hair clung to her cheeks, and for a disconnected moment he thought he was imagining the resemblance.
But it was her. Deirdre.
Daisy, he thought in confusion. Deirdre was Daisy. But why on earth had his sister’s friend run away from him?
DAISY HADN’T MEANT to stay under the water so long. She’d gone down on an impulse and then, hearing the blurred echo of Chance’s voice, had clung to her sanctuary single-mindedly.
She was glad he’d
