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"No, but you ought to see the hunk that relieved Kendall this morning." She let go with a decidedly feminine expression of pleasure that again brought back memories of Gibby. I ignored it and asked the inevitable. |
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"Tom. Tom Gregory. Officer Tom Gregory." There was a note of reverence in her voice. |
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"Tommy? That's a helluva name for a Mountie!" |
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"I didn't say Tommy," she said, pouting. "I said Tom, very masculine, like in primitive jungle drums." |
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It's a struggle in the low-slung seats of a turbocharged 280 ZX, but somehow I managed. I fished a quarter out of my pocket and once more relied on the oldest decision maker known to man. |
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"Heads we set sail for the Austin woman's pad; tails we go back to the motel and I call Lucy to see what she's dug up on what you so quaintly term 'a lesser deity'." |
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The alternatives only intensified B.C.'s pout. "Can't I just stay here and talk to Officer Gregory? I might come up with something new." |
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We headed for the widow's house with B.C. slumped in the passenger seat. The whole situation was rapidly developing into one of the weirdest entries in all my years |
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