Free A Tan & Sandy Silence by John D. MacDonald Page A

the other day. And he got weepy."
    "So you're finding her for him?"
    "May I ask you the same personal question you asked me?"
    "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry. Why then?"

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    "For myself. Pride, I guess. Harry thought if she was really in trouble, she would come running to me. And the more I think about it, the more logical it seems. That she would. Besides-" I stopped suddenly.
    "What's the matter?"
    "When was Harry here, did you say?"
    "Oh, two weeks ago."
    "Can you pin it down to a day?"
    "Let me go take a look at my kitchen calendar and see."
    She came back and said, "Less than two weeks ago. It was a Monday morning. April fifth."
    "He told me someone had seen Mary with me on April second. He was wrong, of course. Why would he come after you instead of me if she was seen with me?"
    "Maybe he hadn't been told about it before he came to see me," she said.
    "And maybe he was trying to get you to admit she'd moved in with me or some damn thing.
    What difference does it make anyway? He didn't act as if he was thinking very clearly."
    "Mary was thinking about getting in touch with you. She was sitting in my kitchen wondering out loud if she should. That was after she'd decided to take off. Then she decided it would be better to have some breathing space in between, some time to herself first. I thought she would have written you long before now. It's over three months."
    "She writes you?"
    "Don't get too cute, McGee."
    "Okay. Do you know where she is?"
    "Yes."
    "And she is okay?"
    "I have no reason to think she isn't. If I was Mary I would be relishing every damn moment. The farther from Harry, the better."
    "That's all I wanted to know, Mrs. Dressner. That she is okay. I had to hear it from somebody I could believe."
    "Hey! You're spoiling the fun. You're supposed to worm the whole story out of me. Or try to."
    "It's Harry who has to know where she is. Not me."
    "Friend McGee, I am not about to get you two men confused, one with the other."
    "So she is a long distance from here. And should be relishing every moment. Right?"
    "I've gotten some comedy postcards."
    "I believe you. There are people you believe and people you don't. I don't need to know any more than I know right now."
    She looked rueful. "Everybody believes me. Everything I'm thinking shows. I've got one of those faces. I'd make a rotten spy. Hey, sit down again. I haven't offered you anything. Coffee, tea, beer, booze? Even some lunch?"
    "No thanks."
    "Believe me, I'm glad to have anybody show up here. This is one of the days when the house gets empty somehow. David-my husband-has been gone all week. He'll be home tomorrow, probably about noon. He's gone a week or more out of every month. Our two little gals are tennis freaks, so who sees them at all when the weather is like this? I miss hell out of Mary I really do. You could choke down some terrible coffee at least. Pretend it's delicious, and I'll tell you where Mary is. Even if you don't have to know."
    She brought coffee from the kitchen to the glasstop table on the screened terrace. Moving around had loosened the hitch in the terry belt, and when she bent to pour my coffee, the robe suddenly spilled open. She spilled coffee, clutched frantically, put the pot down, and gathered herself together and tied the robe firmly, her face dark red under the freckles. It was obvious she had not contrived it.
    "Some people are solitary drinkers. I'm a solitary skinny dipper."
    "It's habit forming," I said.

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    She got paper towels and mopped up the spilled coffee and filled my cup the rest of the way.
    She sat and stared at me, lips pursed. Finally she said, "Thank you."
    "For?"
    "For not jumping to any conclusions, for which I could not exactly blame you. Good God, I tell you my husband is away, my kids are playing tennis, I'm lonesome. I beg you to stay for coffee and then damn near drop my robe on the floor."
    "Some days are like that."
    "I like the way you can smile without hardly changing your mouth at all. It's