So, let me get this straight. I broke into an apartment in a crazed attempt to find and reconcile with my ex-fiancée, ended up finding a wasted billionaire on "break" there instead, made a freakish deal with him concerning our respective lovers, then we practically made out with each other in our sleep (each under the assumption that the other was said lover), and now I'm standing in front of a door that's been kicked open by my little sister that I haven't seen since my life started screwing itself over.

What the hell?

Being the pitiful and cowardly mess that I am, not to mention as drunk as I was, I threw my arms around poor little Psyche and started bawling like a baby.

Now that I think about it, I probably seemed weirder than usual. I mean, I'd bet that Pegasus and Psyche were both confused as hell, and they both know me well enough to know I'm a nutcase.

She just kind of blinked and put her briefcase down, patting me on the back, like I was someone to be pitied.

Which I totally was, of course.

Pegasus did his weird smile thing and asked who she was.

She smiled back and said he could call her Kalli Vega, private eye.

I frowned. What? I told her that she was a fat liar, and that she was Psyche Halliwell, my 19-year-old sister.

She was still kind of keeping me up, and told me in no uncertain terms to shut my face, she was undercover. If anyone asked, she was investigating the break-in.

Oh, yeah.

Oops.

That was me.

Psyche shrugged and told me she'd tell her boss that I lived there and I'd lost my key. Then she sort of let go of me

THUNK.

and opened up her briefcase, asking what we could tell her about our situation, so she could help and all.

Beaming as he normally did, Pegasus leapt right into the story. I guess he had a lot of hope that whatever our plan was would work, and especially since we had a P. I. on our side.

I, on the other hand, was still a delusional wreck crumpled up on the floor.

Since I couldn't get a word in edgewise, I sat and listened for a few minutes. Damn, my sister had gotten smart. I don't think I understood half the stuff she said.

Which was definitely a good sign.

And apparently, Pegasus knew what she was saying, because he kept replying in the same sort of jargon. Gah, my head was spinning.

Then she asked if he'd ever considered genetic engineering.

He nodded, but said he wasn't sure if what he had was enough.

She shrugged and told him that the genetic profiles of other family members would help as well, and asked if Cynthia'd had any siblings.

Yes, he told her, but she was a year older and had run away as a teen to be a showgirl or Broadway actress or something of the sort someplace far away from Vegas. He couldn't remember her name though.

Wait a minute... nah, it couldn't be.

She pondered and asked if there were any pictures of the sister.

He sighed and said, no, not exactly. There was one that used to have both the girls, but they'd gotten into a fight about the older one leaving, so Cynthia had cut her sister out of the picture and given it back to her because she sure didn't want it.

Maybe... no, I was getting too worked up.

Nodding, Psyche pulled out her laptop. She told him to go get the picture, and also asked what Cynthia's maiden name had been.

Back as soon as he'd gone, Pegasus brought the picture in and said that her last name had been Delacroix.

Now, by this point, I was sober enough to know something was up. I leaned in to listen, fighting the impulse to scream the suspicions that'd been building up since they started talking about this.

They kept talking, and she was typing furiously.

What was I, chopped liver?

I started rocking back and forth impatiently then I caught a glimpse of the picture.

I was right.

I WAS RIGHT!

I jumped up and started screaming like a banshee, earning crazy looks from the two of them. But I didn't give a flying rat's ass. I knew it!

Pulling out my admittedly empty wallet, I pretty much shoved my picture of Catherine in their faces. It had the exact same background that his picture of Cynthia did, and was cut unevenly on one side.

And her last name was Delacroix!

And she'd run away to New York to be a cabaret singer! (I should know that, because that's how she met me!)

It fit!

I was right!

My Catherine was his Cynthia's big sister!

I stood there staring at them like a psycho, and they stared back at me knowing I was a psycho.

Then Pegasus jumped up and hugged me.

Huh?

Psyche smiled a little. She said that she'd trace Catherine, but that what we'd just found out was a key part of how to solve both our problems. She went on and said that after she was done with the tracing, her work was done.

Pegasus and I were both jumping around laughing and screaming at "trace Catherine."