If only she had some idea whom to look for. She was going to feel a bit silly holding up a placard. She'd asked Shelley for descriptions of the women she was meeting, but Shelley had refused to help. "Jane, it's been twenty years since I've seen them. God only knows what they all look like by now. I'll fix it so they find you."

The first flight was actually a bit early and Jane dutifully held up her "Susan Morgan" placard as the passengers flowed from the door to the walkway.

"Why, hello. Who are you?" an attractively coiffed and tanned woman said to her.

"I'm Jane Jeffry, Shelley's neighbor. Are you Ms. Morgan?"

The woman put a hand with expensively sculpted nails and a number of exceedingly expensive rings on Jane's arm. "This year I am. Next year, who knows? And please, none of that 'Ms.' stuff. Just call me Crispy. Everybody else at the reunion will."

"They will?" Jane asked, smiling. "Why on earth would they do a thing like that?"

The woman laughed warmly. "Because my maiden name, back in the dark days of my maidenhood, was Susan Crisp. I like you, Jane. I might make you my assistant."

"Assistant what?"

"Tormentor. Oh, this is going to be such fun." She rubbed her lovely hands together like a stage villain. "I can't wait to see everybody. I've got about a dozen bags and my hairdresser is crammed into one of them. Where shall I meet you?"

"My next gate is around the turn down there, first on the left, and the next is at the far end of the same concourse. Can you manage the bags?"

"My dear, I can manage anything." And she sounded as if she could. She went off chuckling to herself. Jane watched her go with a mixture of amusement and alarm. Assistant tormentor? Good God, what had Shelley let herself in for?