Tom held my elbow and led me out the kitchen door and toward the closet, whispering, “Let’s do what he says.”

He opened the closet door, and several shoe boxes fell from the top shelf, spilling their contents at our feet. Obviously Karen’s touch was missing here.

I knelt and gathered up costume jewelry and fancy hair ornaments. Since Tom is over six feet tall, he made room on the shelf for the boxes.

I whispered, “Do I honestly have to play dress-up to talk to the people in that town?” I glanced up at the mustysmelling dresses and suits crammed in the closet.

“We’ll take a few things to humor Ed, okay?” Tom said softly. “I’ve never seen him this bothered by anything, but apparently he not only has shoe boxes and trunks. He has a Pandora’s box, too.”

“You’re right.” I pulled out a cotton print dress hiding between two wool jackets. “How’s this?” I held it up in front of me.

But Tom had started digging around in a plastic container on the closet floor. He whipped out a blond wig. “Or this?”

“It’s July, if you haven’t noticed. I’ll end up with blisters on my scalp from the heat if I wear that.”

“I’m sure Chief Shelton will remember your hair . . . your face.” He ran a finger along my jawline. “Hard not to notice you.” He held the wig out.

I took it and held it to my nose. “Smells like a combination of my grandmother’s Jean Naté and talcum powder.” I sighed. “That’s what I get for being a redhead. People remember the hair. We’ll take the dress and the wig—but only to make Ed happy. A dye job might be easier than wearing this.” I shook the wig, expecting a baby powder cloud to appear around the thing.

Tom fixed several strands of hair behind my ear. “Don’t you dare think about changing anything.” He pulled me to him and kissed me.

The wig—or Tom—had won.

After Tom dropped me off at home with my not-so-fancy dress and my ugly wig, three very interested cats followed on my heels as I took these prize items to my bedroom. Maybe if I left the fake hair within reach of prying paws, I’d have a good excuse to stick to sunglasses as my only disguise. I couldn’t wear a wig that resembled something that looked like it had been run over by a lawnmower. That was what this fake hair would look like if my three felines had their way with it.