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Authors: Elaine Viets

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Alyce looked radiant this morning. She had her floaty walk and blond halo of hair. Josie didn't have to ask if she'd moved back into the master bedroom.

“The lawyer says it looks like Jake's share of the keyman insurance is going to come through,” Alyce said. “We'll get one million two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Linda won't get her share, of course, though they'll hold it in escrow until her court case is settled, then divide it among the other investors, once it's proven they had nothing to do with Halley's murder. Our son will have a million dollars in his college fund.”

“That's some trust-fund baby,” Josie said. “Are you going to blow the rest?”

“The rest goes into an account just for me,” Alyce said. “It was the only way I'd take Jake back.”

Josie knew what that account meant. Her friend was no longer dependent on Jake's largesse. Alyce was free to walk away from the marriage anytime she wanted.

“Jake's been completely cleared of any wrongdoing with the takeover debacle. Granby was so eager to nail him that he sent the e-mail from Jake's PC and never bothered to check why Jake wasn't in his office. Jake was in Chicago on business. He couldn't have sent that message from his St. Louis office. He was in a meeting with six other attorneys in the Sears Tower. Worse, Granby was dumb enough to sign onto Jake's machine with his own password.”

“So I guess he won't be making partner?” Josie said.

“Granby's lawyering days are over,” Alyce said. “The only good news for the firm is that since he's not a partner, their liability is substantially reduced.”

Josie heard footsteps on the stairs. Jake came down in a blue chalk-striped suit. Josie looked for signs of stress, but he seemed untouched by the last few weeks.

“Hi, Josie,” Jake said.

Alyce beamed, as if he'd said something clever, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Alyce tells me you were a big help with our little problem,” he said.

“Right,” Josie said. Little problem? She smiled at Jake and thought: I don't have to live with him. I don't have to love him. I don't have to sleep with him. He's Alyce's man and he makes her happy, and so I'm happy for her.

“Thank you for everything,” Jake said. “I mean that. If there's ever anything I can do, please let me know.” Once again, Josie caught a hint of the charm that so captivated Alyce. Jake's gaze was so intense, he made Josie feel like she was the only woman in the room.

Josie realized Jake was holding her hand when her cell phone rang. She looked at the display number. It was her mother.

Oh, boy.

“Excuse me,” Josie said. “I have to take this.”

“Josie?” Jane sounded shaky. “There's another mountain of packages being delivered to our house. I swear I didn't order them.”

“Packages? From where?” Josie said.

“All sorts of places: Neiman Marcus. Tiffany's. Dell computers. Pottery Barn. Bed, Bath & Beyond. Williams-Sonoma. And something called UGG.”

“I didn't order any of it, Mom. Send it all back, please.”

“No, don't,” Alyce said. “Those are thank-you presents from Jake and me. Why don't you go home and open them?”

“Please, Josie,” Jake said. “You'll do us a favor if you'll accept them. We're forever in your debt. There's no way we can repay you.”

Josie left the couple holding hands in the kitchen.

Back home, her living room was waist-high with boxes and packages. Josie refused to open them until she picked up Amelia from school.

“Sweet,” Amelia said when she surveyed the stacks of boxes with the pricey labels. “Did we win the lottery or what?”

“We won the friendship lottery,” Josie said. “Alyce got us all these things.”

“Well, she should,” Amelia said. “She nearly got you killed. Anyway, presents are cheaper than a murder trial.”

“Amelia!”

It took them an hour to open all the boxes. There were cashmere sweaters for Josie and Amelia, an iPod for Amelia, UGG boots for Josie, and an Elsa Peretti necklace from Tiffany & Co.

“That's for me,” Amelia said.

“That's for me,” Josie said. “But if you're good, you can borrow it.”

The purple bedspread was definitely for Amelia. “My fave color,” she said. “Sweet!”

Jane had a new pantsuit and a chic pink suede purse. “That's much too expensive for me,” Jane said, blushing with pleasure.

Josie knew she wouldn't be able to pry that purse out of her mother's grip.

When the orgy of box opening ended, there was only one small package left on the end table. It was from Williams-Sonoma.

“The last one is yours, Mom,” Amelia said.

Josie opened it, and burst out laughing. Jane and Amelia stared at a metal device that looked like a piece of miniature farm equipment.

“What is it?” Amelia said.

“An herb mill,” Josie said.

“Weird,” Amelia said. “What herb are you going to put in it?”

“Rosemary,” Josie said.

“That's for remembrance,” said Jane, who knew her Shakespeare.

“What do you want to remember?” Amelia said.

“Who my friends are,” Josie said.

Author's Note

My mother was a mystery shopper in the 1960s. She shopped at supermarkets and fast food places with her best friend, the way Josie and Alyce do. Mom was a traditional homemaker and wanted to be home when the kids got off school. Mystery-shopping let her do this.

There's no way Mom could have made a full-time living from mystery-shopping. There's more to it than “getting paid to shop and eat.” It was hard work. Mom sometimes had to drive more than a hundred miles a day on highways clogged with construction and traffic. Her feet hurt from trudging through malls.

Can you really make a living from mystery-shopping like Josie?

Josie is a mystery shopper the way James Bond is a spy. You've probably read newspaper stories about mystery shoppers who make seven thousand dollars a month. That's possible, but unlikely. Most people mystery-shop for extra money, cheap vacations, and free meals.

Sometimes these jobs end up costing you money. Various Web sites have been known to prey on the unwary. Consumer sites warn that most information provided in the handbooks sold on these questionable sites can be found free elsewhere on the Web. Before you sign on with any company, check out David Grisman's site, www.2007topscams.com/mystery-shopping, to learn the pitfalls. He recommends avoiding companies that require you to pay fifty dollars or more to work for them with no money-back guarantee. Remember, the number one rule of working is: “The job pays you.”

Grisman reviewed 329 mystery-shopping Web sites and found that 319 were scams. His one sure-fire test is asking: Does the site offer a money-back guarantee? If the answer is no, then beware. You don't want to sign on with them.

Grisman's top three legitimate picks are: Shopping Jobs (www.shoppingjobs.net ), Get Paid 2 Shop (www.getpaid2.com), and Shop Until You Drop (www.shopuntilyoudrop.net). (Just a note: Shop Until You Drop has no connection to my novel
Shop Till You Drop
.)

If you're not sure about a mystery-shopping company, check with your state attorney general's office (www.naag.org), the Better Business Bureau (www.bbb.org), the Federal Trade Commission (www.ftc.gov), or call 877-FTC-HELP.

You can also join Mystery Shopping Providers Association, the professional trade association. MSPA's Web site, www.mysteryshop.org, has a wealth of information for people who want to be mystery shoppers in North America, Europe, and Asia.

“There, they can find information on how to be a shopper with an MSPA company, what jobs are available in their region, and how to access information on the mystery shopper industry,” the MSPA site says. If you are looking for a mystery shopper job, make sure your potential company is a member of MSPA and follows their code of ethics

Also, check the MSPA site for the latest mystery-shopping scams. One current swindle has the mystery shopper cashing a large cashier's check to evaluate a bank's service. The unwary mystery shopper then wires the money to an address outside the U.S., and supposedly gets to keep several hundred dollars as a reward.

“The cashier's check bounces several days later and the consumer is held liable for the entire amount of the money they wired to the international address—typically between $2,500 and $3,500,” the MSPA says.

Another good source for reliable mystery shopper information is www.Snopes.com/fraud/employment/shopper.asp. Check the “secret shopper scams” section.

Shopping for Accessories

Pucci, Fendi, Chloe, and other designer names can be found at www.net-a-porter.com/Shop/Accessories. Good buys on accessories are available at many online sites, but some may be last year's styles. Try to avoid the color of the season (acid green, for instance) and you'll have an accessory you can use for a long time.

If you must have a designer name, there are bargains available. Chanel, Gucci, Dior, Fendi, and Louis Vuitton are among the major names available at www.designer exposure.com and www.overstock.com, where you can buy discount jewelry, shoes, hats and handbags. Some of the items are overstocks or last year's styles, but $165 for a Unisex Cross Black Perforated watch is a deal. The Diesel hammered silver metal bracelet with the signature coin is $90. Another jewelry site to consider is www.smartbargains.com. At press time, Movado watches were half price.

Can't bring yourself to spend a thousand dollars on a designer scarf?

Target has trendy accessories by Rafe. Bags, belts, sunglasses and shoes run $25 to $50. Target items are smart and stylish, but many customers will tell you they are designed to last for only one season.

Best time for accessory sales:
Fourth of July weekend. January is also a good time for sales, especially for winter accessories. Most online sites have sales year-round.

If you're shopping at an actual brick-and-mortar store, many experts recommend shopping on Thursday evenings for clothing. “That's the day stores restock for the weekend, and many retailers start their weekend promotions,” Kathryn Finney, author of
How to Be a Budget Fashionista
, told AOL. Finney says Saturday evening, just before closing, is a prime time for bargains at department stores, because the stores mark down items for the Sunday sales. She also recommends printing out the sale preview from the store's Web site, because many store employees will honor the sale price, even if the item isn't technically on-sale yet.

Keepers:
A fashion model once gave me this advice: “Never throw out your accessories. Eventually, they all come back in style.” She was right, according to an AOL survey of the hottest fashion accessories. Of course, sunglasses are number one for summer, but surprisingly, belly-button rings came in third.

When's the last time anyone you know had her belly button pierced?

There's a whole line of body jewelry on the Web, including a dangling martini glass to decorate your navel. And a tasteful cherry belly ring. My Irish grandmother would spin in her grave if she knew women were now wearing Claddagh belly rings (which cost only $8.99 online).

Inexpensive navel rings can be found at www.body candy.com, along with eyebrow, nipple, toe, and nose rings. They also have vibrating tongue rings.

Shades of the seventies, color-changing mood rings were number seven on the AOL summer search list, right above nose rings. You can buy them at www.moodjewelry.com—along with mood belly rings.

Green accessories:
For those interested in saving the Earth, Revival Ink is an eco-friendly site that “eliminates production of new waste by reinventing vintage clothing.”

“My mission is to provide fashionable and affordable styles for the average consumer by reusing existing clothing and fabrics,” owner Tara Smith says on her Web site. “I get my clothing from vintage shops, overstock, and organic cotton wholesalers.” She also “uses PVC-free textile inks and nontoxic cleaning products.”

Revival Ink has scarves for $15 to $25, hoodies for $25 to $55, and tees for $18 to $28.

For more information go to www.revivalink.com

Dress like a star:
Greta Garbo's fabulous silver-and-turquoise bracelet. Pamela Anderson's blue earrings from the television show
V.I.P.
Jack Benny's wallet. Angelina Jolie's necklace. These and other celebrity accessories can be bought at various Web sites.

The items mentioned are from www.roslynherman.com and the collector promises a certificate of authenticity.

Celebrity accessories are surprisingly affordable, even for Golden Age movie stars. Jack Benny's wallet is described as “in perfect condition”—and it's $275.

Greta Garbo's silver-and-turquoise Art Deco bracelet is $875, and Garbo's yellow lace headband is $125. Angelina's beads are $225, but the necklace needs restringing. Pamela's blue earrings are $175. You can also buy her six-inch-high Lucite heels for $325. So far, no word on whether Pam's wedding bikini will be up for sale soon.

The New York Times
says there's a cottage industry selling off clothes from TV shows and films. Castoffs from
Sex and the City
found their way to It's a Wrap outlet store (www.itsawraphollywood.com) in Burbank, California.

It's a Wrap also sold Tom Hanks's loincloth from
Castaway
for $2,450. (It didn't say if the loincloth had been cleaned or still has the original celebrity sweat.) Denzel Washington's socks from
Courage Under Fire
were $40. Rhinestones that once graced Sharon Stone's ears were on sale for $225 and Jennifer Lopez's lace teddy from
Angel Eyes
was $1000, custom-framed.

Reel Clothes (www.reelclothes.com) is another celebrity wardrobe site, and the
Times
says you'll find many famous fashions. Many of these designer clothes have never been worn—the shows buy two of each in case there's a fashion mishap.

Paris shopping:
Heiress Paris Hilton wore a JET hoodie by John Eshaya. Jessica Simpson sported an “Apple” hoodie. Paris was photographed in a red Voom baby-doll dress and a frayed-billed Brokedown cap.

The favorite casual wear of the Hollywood princesses is sold online at Shop-Ashiya (www.shop-ashiya.com). Better yet, you don't have to be a hotel heiress to afford them. The Brokedown skull-and-crossbones cadet hat is $56. Junkfood T-shirts are $20 to $50, and the JET “Love” hoodie is about $80. The site shows the celebrities photographed in the clothes. So far, there are no chic orange jail jumpsuits for sale there.

Grumpy Girl:
I'm partial to the Grumpy Girl T-shirt: “I cook…Instant Ramen. On Certain Holidays.” Grumpy Girl accessories include key chains ($15), trucker visors ($24), and the Grumpy Girl Auto Bird Turd Emergency Kit ($28.95) with the slogan “Because everything is cute until it poops.” There's also a line of baby Grumpy Girl clothing.

Big girls should remember that Grumpy Girl tees run small, so if you don't like your shirts too form-fitting, order them a size larger than usual. For information check out www.grumpy-girl.com.

Whose scarves do you wear?

I like New York designer Christian Ruperto, who makes Italian-designed clothing under the name Alta Moda. I first met him in the 1970s when he had a boutique in St. Louis, and I thought his materials were beautiful. Christian's “Tribute to New Orleans” scarf is one of my favorites, and I wear it often.

Christian and his wife, Jeanne, helped me with this book. Here are some things I learned from them:

Many quality silk scarves are made in Como and Milan, Italy, and Lyon, France. Scarves are also made in China, but are often cheaper, without the depth of color or quality of fabric. The best are handmade. Lighter scarves are one-ply silk, and the heavier ones can go up to four-ply, which is nearly too heavy to be a scarf. The rich colors are usually achieved through a combination of the dyeing process, the design, and the high-grade materials. The process is a closely guarded secret.

Once the materials are chosen, the major production costs are for the screens and number of colors used. For a quality scarf, the first screen can easily cost upwards of $9,000 for one's own print and a sample. Ouch. The cost decreases as the number produced increases. A markup of 100 to 200 percent isn't unheard of for a unique, quality piece retailing for $1,000 to $5,000.

Theft and copying also exist. An expensive, one-of-a-kind collection could be bought, stolen, or knocked-off, then sold as a cheaper version elsewhere. Think of all those New York street vendors and their “Louis Vuitton” pieces.

To contact Christian Ruperto in New York, e-mail [email protected].

Don't miss the exciting mysteries in the national bestselling Dead-End Job series from Elaine Viets, which
Publisher's Weekly
has praised for being “humorous and socially conscious…rollicking fun.” Her most recent hardcover,
Clubbed to Death
, is on sale in May 2008.

Living life on the lam and working wherever she can find a paycheck, Helen Hawthorne has a knack for keeping a low profile. Her latest career cul-de-sac is in the complaint department of a snooty country club, which has lately dropped its standards so low that even Helen's sleazy ex-husband is welcome….

Once people were dying to get into the Superior Club in South Florida. Now they're just dying.

Read on for a sneak peek of
Clubbed to Death
….

“Do you know who I am?” The woman's high-pitched whine sliced through Helen Hawthorne's phone like a power saw cutting metal.

Yes, ma'am, Helen thought. You are another rude rich person.

“I am Olivia Reginald. I am a Superior Club member. I spend thousands at this country club.”

Everyone spends money here, Helen thought. That's how they get in. “How may I help you, Mrs. Reginald?” she said.

The power-saw whine went up a notch. “I'm sitting by the pool waiting for you to call. I left a message at eleven o'clock. It took you half an hour to call back.”

“I'm sorry, Mrs. Reginald, but we've had a busy morning.”

“My husband is
in
the pool but I can't go
in
until I arrange a guest pass for my sister. Laura is staying at our home while we're on vacation. How can I enjoy myself when I have to wait by the phone?”

I'm sitting in a stuffy office on a fabulous January day in Miami, Helen thought. How can I enjoy myself when I have to deal with you?

“I'll fax the paperwork right now,” Helen said.

“I am on vacation. I am not sitting by a fax machine. Just give Laura the guest pass. I said it was OK.”

“I can't,” Helen said. “I need your written approval. It's for your protection. When you give someone a guest pass, she can charge thousands of dollars to your account. It will take two minutes to fax the paperwork to your hotel.”

“Well, hurry up. I'm wasting my vacation on the phone.”

Helen fought the urge to say something straight out of high school: “My heart bleeds purple peanut butter.”

Instead, she summoned heroic willpower and the memory of her new credit-card bill and said, “Yes, ma'am.”

“Do you know who I am?” should be the Superior Club's new motto, she thought. In the old days, the members would have never asked that question. Everyone knew the Prince of Wales, the Queen of Romania, and Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald. For the club's gently bred socialites, the question was unthinkable. A lady didn't want to be known outside her circle. The painted mistresses of the robber barons were politely infamous, but always discrete.

The new members were a different breed. They'd invaded the historic Superior Club like a swarm of termites, and they were just as destructive. Helen prayed the balky fax/copy machine was working, or else she'd have to listen to Mrs. Reginald's power-whine again.

Helen never made it to the copy machine. She was stopped by another club member before she got down the hall. This one looked like he'd escaped from the “Early Man” display at the natural history museum, then hijacked a suit. His forehead was so low it seemed to collapse on his thick eyebrows. Make that eye
brow
. The man had only one, and it was fat and furry. Helen was sure his back and chest were covered with a thick pelt.

The surprise was his hands, which he must have swiped from a higher primate. They were long and slender and only slightly hairy around the knuckles.

The creature spoke with an educated accent.

“I'm a doctor,” the caveman said. “This is an emergency. I need to speak to the department supervisor.”

“I'm sorry, she's out to lunch,” Helen said. In more ways than one, she thought. “Solange will be back in about two hours. How may I assist you?”

“You can't.” His eyes narrowed to feral slits. Helen wondered if he had a stone ax up his sleeve. “I need someone important and I need him now.”

The doctor's simian face was hard, but not from exercise or responsibility. This hardness came from too much cocaine, too much money, or both. It stripped the softness from the personality, leaving only the nasty “gimme” part. Helen had seen many versions of the doctor at the Superior Club, although none quite so hairy.

He was right. She couldn't help him. She was only a clerk in customer care—a polite name for the country club's complaint department. The other staffers didn't even look up when the doctor screamed at Helen. They'd heard these tantrums before.

“How much longer are you going to keep me waiting?” The doctor's soft, smooth fingers drummed the marble countertop. His brownish hair bristled with rage. “Didn't you hear me? I said this was an emergency.”

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