Page 40
He started the car and asked her where she lived. She gave him an address in Upper Darby Township.
"It's not far," Mrs. Glover said. "But I appreciate the offer to take me back there."
"I'll take your husband back," Matt said. "What you should do is make yourself a stiff drink, and then go to bed, and forget this whole thing."
He saw they had crossed into Upper Darby Township. "You're going 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, probablyDoctor 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 gl
ass. She took a tentative sip of hers. She smiled. "That's not so bad."
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