two, and just as quickly turned her attention to Babs.
“I see you?ve cornered him already,” she said playfully, and then back at me: “Call me . . please. I
have a private line. It?s listed under D. F. Raines. Chief would love to see you.”
1 didn?t buy that. To Chief I would just be bad news, a vague face from the past, a painful reminder
that his son was dead. What she was really asking was, Are you coming to Windsong tonight?
“Sure,” I said.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She didn?t just leave, she turned and fled.
I sat back down and looked across the table at Babs, whose mouth was dangling open. She reached up
slowly and pushed it closed with a finger.
“You sly son of a bitch,” she said.
“What?re you talking about?”
“You know Doe Findley that well?” she said.
“What do you mean, that well?”
“1 mean that well.”
“We knew each other in college. Twenty years ago.”
„Uh-huh, honey. That wasn?t a „gee it?s nice to see you again after all these years? look. That was a
„where the hell have you been for the last twenty years? look.”
“It was probably a shock seeing me again. 1 knew her brother.”
“I don?t care who you knew. These old eyes are not that bad yet. Twenty years, huh?”
“What are you raving about?” I said to her.
“So where did she fall in love with you? She didn?t go to Georgia, she went to. . . oh, let?s see, one of
those snotty colleges up north.”
Now she was doing the coaxing.
“Vassar,” I said. “Real hard to remember.”
“So you have kept track?”
“Through Teddy.”
“Oh, right. And you just sat there, letting me jabber on about the Findleys and Harry Raines. .
“Trash it,” I said.
“Trash it?”
“Trash it. There?s nothing there.”
She wasn?t about to back off. She leaned back in her chair and appraised me through narrowed eyes.
