Barb and Jackie, two under-employed septuagenarians, find, then lose, the body of a young woman. They try in vain to report the corpse-less murder to the disbelieving chief of police and his deputy.

Unfortunately, the chief still suffered from the humiliating after effects of a previous event with the two insufferable older women. He’d decided that even the sight of them was as welcomed as a rat-filled birthday cake.

Plus, their most recent tale of the disappearing corpse had all the credibility of flying teapots, feathered pigs, and fire plugs. So, he decided to check the statistics and calculate the expected life span of women in their seventies.

The thought cheered him. Now discredited by the police, Barb and Jackie take it upon themselves and attempt to solve the mystery with less than primitive detecting skills.

This leads them to peeking in their neighbors’ windows in the dead of night (after dark, but not too late) to gather evidence. Armed with wild suppositions, inaccurate evidence, and the forgotten detecting skills of Nancy Drew, they meet with disaster.

. .