bed and contemplated all that he had just read. He had to confess that he couldn’t really make heads or tails of it, but his heart was mightily saddened by the abundance of tragedies in Ernestine Crabtree’s past.
He put the scrapbook back exactly where he had found it.
He went into the kitchen, all thoughts of a bath gone. He washed up the pots and pans and utensils in the sink and put them away. He sat down at the table and thought about last night here. He and Ernestine had been alone in the house. A bottle of bourbon had been at hand. He’d been cleaned up and all, smelling about as good as he was ever likely to. He had done his best to impress upon the woman that he was attracted to her. And she had chosen a book in her bed over him in her bed.
While thinking this, he went to the shelf and found an Agatha Christie novel. He walked back into the kitchen and stood at the sink looking out the little window into the darkness, the book still held unopened in his hand.
“How did you get in here?”
Archer spun around to see Ernestine standing there.
“Back door. It was unlocked.”
“No, I remember locking it.”
“Well, it must be broken, opened easy enough.”
She came forward and glanced at the empty sink. “You…you did the dishes?”
“It was the least I could do, considering that you made me a dinner I wasn’t here to eat. I’m sorry about that. But I did have the morning coffee and the lunch, and it was much appreciated, Ernestine.”
She set her purse down on the table and slipped off her dark blue pillbox hat and took off her black wrist-length gloves.
“Nothing special about feeding a hungry man. As for dinner, I’m sure you had other pressing matters.”
“Mr. Shaw met me at the truck, and we went out to the Pittlemans’ to talk with his widow.”
“Then you haven’t eaten dinner?”
“No, Mr. Shaw was good enough to buy me some before we headed out.”
She sat down at the table. He did likewise, putting the book in front of him.
“Did you find out anything important?” she asked.
“Just that Pittleman was up to his ears in debt. Guess he had a gambling problem, too. Lost more money than I can count over in that Las Vegas place. They got gambling houses there. And brothels! I mean, I just don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“How women can do that.”
“They might not have any choice in the matter.”
“I would expect they had a choice and they just made the wrong one. Look at Jackie Tuttle. She told me she chose to be Pittleman’s chattel, like it was her job or something. I still can’t figure that out.”
“So you believe she made the wrong choice then?”
“Well, don’t you?”
“I have no right to judge her, as I haven’t walked in her shoes.”
Archer thought about this for a bit and once more came away with the depth of the woman’s wisdom. He nodded. “I guess you’re right about that.”
Crabtree said, “And now? With Pittleman gone?”
“That ride might have run out for Jackie. And who knows if Pittleman left his wife a dime when all is said and done.”
“It sounds like a dilemma all right.’”
“But Jackie is one smart gal. If anyone can survive this, she can.”
“You care for her, don’t you?”
Archer was startled by this question. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to her. I think…”
“You think what?”
“I think she got a raw deal in life and deserves to be happy in spite of that.”
Crabtree looked at him with those mile-deep eyes, and for a moment Archer could see himself plunging through their depths to who knew where.
“That speaks well of you, Archer.”
He took out his Lucky Strikes and offered her one, but she declined. He lit up and said, “You got a man in your life, Ernestine?” Before she could say anything, he put up a hand. “I know that’s a personal question, and you can just tell me to shove off. But I was just wondering. I never had a steady gal. I left home, roamed a bit, then went to college. Then I volunteered and spent years of my life fighting a war across the ocean. Then I got into trouble and there went more years of my life. Now?” He picked up the book. “Maybe these will be my friends. Keep me company at night.”
“Books are wonderful, Archer, but they can’t be the only things in your life. Humans