to have to start giving me directions.”
It was a fairly nice ranch house in a subdivision, the sort of house he would have expected people like the Glovers to have. He remembered hearing that Mr. Glover, probably Doctor Glover, was some sort of professor. There was a light on in the carport, and there were lights in the living room, behind the curtain that covered the picture window.
“I don’t see a car,” Matt said. “It looks like Dr. Glover’s not home.”
“Not here, he’s not,” Mrs. Glover said, more than a little bitterly.
Oh!
“Could you use one of those stiff drinks you recommended for me?” Mrs. Glover asked. “Or are you on duty?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, you’re going to have to watch while I have one, I’m afraid. I’m shaking like a leaf.”
“I meant that ‘no drinking on duty’ business is only in the movies, or on TV cop shows. And anyway I’m not. On duty, I mean.”
She got out of the car and went to the door that opened off the carport into the kitchen. He followed her inside. She snapped on fluorescent lights and pulled open a cabinet over the sink.
“I’m not much of a drinker,” she said, taking out four bottles. “But this is an occasion, isn’t it?” She turned to him. “What do you recommend?”
There was a bottle of gin, a bottle of blended whiskey, a bottle of Southern Comfort, and, surprisingly, an unopened bottle of Martel cognac.
“The cognac, if that would be all right,” Matt said.
“I’ve even got the glasses for it,” she said. “They’re probably a little dusty.”
She went farther into the house and returned with two snifters that were, in fact, dusty. She wiped them with a paper towel and set them on the kitchen counter.
“Do you need a corkscrew?”
“No, I don’t think so,” he said, and twisted the metal foil off the neck. The bottle was closed with a cork, but the kind that can be pulled loose.
He poured cognac in both glasses, and handed her one.
“You don’t mix it with anything?”
“My father says it’s a sin to do that,” Matt said. “But my mother drinks hers with soda water.”
“I’ve got ginger ale. Would that be all right?”
“That would be a sin,” he said.
“I think I’ll be a sinner,” she said, and went into the refrigerator and took out a bottle of ginger ale, and poured some into her glass. Then she held the glass out to touch his.
“I’m glad you were there, Matt,” she said. “This whole experience has been horrible. I would have hated to have had to go through it alone.”
He smiled and took a sip from his glass. She took a tentative sip of hers. She smiled. “That’s not so bad.”
He took another swallow and felt the warmth course through his body.
“Funny,” Mrs. Glover said, “you don’t look like a detective.”
“Probably because I’ve only been a detective a couple of weeks.”
“Or a policeman,” she said. “I thought you were one of those who was going in the Marines?”
He was surprised that she had paid enough attention to him to have known that.
“I flunked the physical,” he said.
“Oh,” she said. “And do you like being a policeman?”
“Most of the time,” he said. “Not tonight.”
She hugged herself, which caused the material of her blouse to draw taut over her bosom.
“That warms you, doesn’t it?” she said.
“Yes, it does.”
“My husband’s father gave him that when he was promoted.”
“Oh.”
“I was tempted to throw it out when he left, but I decided that would be a waste, that sooner or later, I’d need it. For an occasion. I didn’t have something like this in mind.”
“Well, it’s over,” Matt said. “Put it out of your mind.”
“I’m not letting you get on with whatever you were about to do when this happened.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Where do you live?”
“In Center City. I was driving past the Acme, saw the parking lot was pretty empty, and thought it would be a good time to get a dozen eggs and a loaf of bread.”
“Me too,” she said, and upended her brandy snifter and drained it. “I went there to get something for my supper. Have you eaten?”
He shook his head, no.
“The least I can do is feed you,” she said. “There should be something in the freezer.”
She found two Swanson Frozen Turkey Breast Dinners and put them in the oven.
“It’ll take thirty-five minutes,” she said. “Is that going to make you terribly late where you were going?”
“I just won’t go,” he said. “It wasn’t important.”
She made herself another cognac and ginger ale