There was intimacy in the way Dolly stood and talked, which seemed to suggest that we really ought to be in bed together, and until then we were just marking time.
'Yes, I am,' I said. 'Do you have any theories on the horse assaults?'
'Oh Lord no,' she said. 'That's not my business.'
'What is your business?' I said.
She nodded at Clive, who was talking with a group of guests.
'Keeping him happy,' she said.
'Which you do well.'
She didn't appear to do anything, but I could feel the energy between us again.
'Which I do very well,' she said.
Penny came by and took my arm.
'Sorry, Dolly, the big boss has ordered me to introduce him around.'
'It's best to follow orders,' Dolly said, and drifted away toward Clive.
'Wife?' I said.
'Girlfriend.'
'Where's your mother?'
'Left years ago. She lives in San Francisco with a guitarist.'
'You get along?' I said.
'With Dolly? Oh sure. She keeps Daddy happy and when Daddy's happy, everybody's happy.'
'Who's the younger blond guy she's with?'
'That's her son,' Penny said. 'Jason.'
'She's older than she looks,' I said.
Penny smiled brilliantly.
'We all are,' she said.
With her arm through mine she steered me through the guests. We stopped in front of a woman whose idea of easy informality appeared to be gold sling-back shoes with glass heels and a gauzy white dress. She was good- looking. Every woman at the party was good-looking. They all looked as if they had just stepped from the shower and doused themselves with lilac water and taken plenty of time getting ready for the party.
'This is my big sister,' she said. 'Stonie. Stonie, this is Mr. Spenser, whom Daddy has hired to protect Hugger.'
'Well,' Stonie said, 'you certainly have the build for it.'
'You have a nice build too,' I said.
'Why, aren't you just lovely to notice.'
The man with her turned away from his conversation and put out a hand.
'Cord Wyatt,' he said. 'I'm the lucky husband of this lady.'
He was taller than I am and slim, with the kind of loose build I associated with polo players. Since I had never seen a polo match, my association may not have been accurate. He had the tan and the perfect smile, and so did his wife. Everybody had it. If I were a skin cancer specialist, I'd move right down here.
'And this is my middle sister, SueSue.'
It was getting monotonous. Blond hair, tan skin, white teeth. SueSue's dress was flowered.
'Wow,' SueSue said.
'Wow?' I said.
'No one told me you were a hunk,' SueSue said.
'Sadly,' I said, 'no one has told me that either.'
'Well, you surely are,' she said.
'He doesn't look like so much to me,' a man said.
'My husband, Pud,' SueSue said.
I put my hand out. Pud didn't take it. He appeared to be drunk. As I thought of it, maybe SueSue was drunk too. Which was too bad-it took a little something away from the 'hunk' designation.
'Pud,' I said, and took my hand back.
Pud looked like he might weigh 250, but it was weight that had collected on a frame designed to support maybe 210. He had the look of a college football player ten years out of shape. He was probably stud duck at the Rotary Club cookouts. I could have taken him while whistling the Michigan fight song and balancing a seal on my nose.
Pud said, 'So, how you doing, Hunk?'
