Free My Man Pendleton by Elizabeth Bevarly Page B

her remark about him not sleeping at night—frankly, it was none of her damned business why he had trouble sleeping—he backpedaled to address her other remarks instead.
    "It isn't Bourbon that's been responsible for the things you like to blame it for," he said. "It's irresponsible people who have caused those things."
    "The old 'Guns don't kill people' line, Mr. McClellan? I'm disappointed. I would have thought you could be more creative than that when making excuses for your role in ruining countless lives."
    He frowned. "As much as I abhor the presence of handguns in our society, and regardless of the cliché, the reasoning is appropriate. It's not the product that the Louisville Temperance League should be going after, Mrs. Ivory. It's the people who misuse it that you should be directing your attentions to." He sat forward now, linking his fingers loosely on his desk. "Will you be going after Hillerich and Bradsby when you're finished with Hensley's?"
    She looked a bit puzzled but only said, "The baseball bat manufacturers? Why on earth would we do that?"
    He shrugged. "Hey, one good blow to the head with a Louisville Slugger could kill someone."
    "Mr. McClellan," Faith Ivory interjected mildly, "I don't think—"
    "And don't forget the Ford plant," he continued, ignoring her as he warmed to his argument. "Automobile accidents have maimed and killed a lot more people than Bourbon has."
    "Mr. McClellan, you're being—"
    "And General Electric. My God. I don't think I need to remind you that one fork in a toaster and you're…" He shrugged again, philosophically this time. "Well, you're toast."
    She gazed at him in silence for a moment before asking, "Are you finished?"
    "I don't know. Have I made my point?"
    "Repeatedly."
    "Then I guess I'm finished."
    She hesitated, not seeming to know exactly how to proceed. Finally, she began again, "Few people can dispute the fact that drinking alcohol is dangerous. Drunk drivers have killed thousands of innocent people. And alcoholism is responsible for everything from domestic violence to birth defects to heart disease to—"
    Beautiful mouth or no, Holt was losing patience with Faith Ivory. Her arguments were the same ones he'd been hearing for years, and frankly, he didn't want to hear them again. "Alcoholism and the enjoyment of spirits," he interrupted her, "are two entirely unrelated things, Mrs. Ivory."
    "They're not at all unrelated," she countered.
    "They are completely unrelated," Holt insisted. He inhaled a deep breath to clear his thoughts, then continued, as levelly as he could manage, "Alcoholism is a serious illness. The enjoyment of a cocktail after work or a glass of wine with dinner isn't."
    "One leads directly to the other," she retorted.
    "Not necessarily, though irresponsible behavior can contribute to it," he volleyed.
    Faith Ivory studied him in silence, as if she'd known they would reach such an impasse, and she was just gearing up to drive home her next point. Oddly enough, Holt found himself looking forward to her argument. Strangely enough, somewhere along the line, this little sparring match with Faith Ivory had become diverting. Almost enjoyable. So he waited. But, surprisingly, Faith Ivory's luscious mouth remained firmly shut on the subject.
    "Mrs. Ivory?" he finally spurred her, still unsure why he would try to prolong such a dialogue.
    With some distraction, she answered, "Yes?"
    "Aren't you going to respond to my comment that alcoholism is a serious illness?"
    Very quietly, she said, "Alcoholism is a serious illness."
    He nodded. "Well, my gracious goodness. We actually agree on something." When she still offered no comment to set them off again, he continued, "How about the irresponsible behavior part? Don't you want to say something about that?"
    She shook her head slowly, her mind obviously still elsewhere. "No. Irresponsible behavior definitely contributes to alcoholism. I'll grant you that, too."
    Well, golly, Holt thought. If she kept this