chair as she passed. She was ready.
When she stepped through the door into the sitting room, Martin was waiting for her. He was wearing the same suit with a fresh shirt. He straightened as she entered and hastily stubbed out the cigarette he was smoking.
“Hello,” Ashley said.
He nodded, his eyes traveling over her from head to foot, then moving away.
“Have the others gone already?” she asked.
He nodded again. “Your father and Miss Drummond left with Sergeant Capo about ten minutes ago.”
“I see.” So Martin was going with her. “Mr. Dillon hasn’t called up, has he?”
“No.”
“He must be running a little late.”
As if in response to her statement, the outer door opened and Ashley exclaimed, “Jim! I was just looking for you.”
Dillon crossed the room in three strides, ignoring Martin, and took both of Ashley’s hands, kissing her on the cheek. He was about what Martin had anticipated. He looked as though he had stepped from the pages of a menswear catalog, with carefully streaked chestnut hair, expensively understated clothes, and a “tennis anyone?” physique.
“I missed you,” he said warmly to Ashley.
She smiled. “Jim, it’s good to see you.” She turned and indicated their companion. “Jim, I’d like you to meet Lieutenant Martin of the Philadelphia Police Department.”
Martin stepped forward, and Dillon shook hands with him.
“He’s been assigned to us for the state tour,” Ashley added. “He’ll be going with us tonight.”
It was clear that this was an unwelcome bulletin.
“I thought the cops were for your father,” Dillon said in a low tone, but loud enough for Martin to hear.
“For both of us,” Ashley said shortly, putting on her gloves.
“Can’t he just meet us there?” Dillon asked. He obviously wanted to get Ashley alone.
“He’s supposed to travel with me, Jim. Please cooperate,” Ashley said with a note of suppressed impatience.
Martin felt ridiculous letting her speak for him. But since he was not a party to the conversation, he could do nothing but stand by and listen to them discuss him as if he weren’t there.
“Ashley,” Dillon said in a wheedling tone.
“We’re late,” she said, and turned to Martin. “I’m ready, Lieutenant.”
“Do you have to wear that?” Dillon asked, addressing Martin for the first time. Having lost the argument, Dillon turned his irritation on its cause, pointing to Martin’s gun, visible as he adjusted his coat.
“Yes,” Martin replied tersely.
“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” Dillon complained, his even features mirroring refined distaste.
“Let the man do his job, Jim,” Ashley said briskly, and strode from the room.
The two men had no choice but to follow her.
It was a silent ride down in the elevator, and when they got to the waiting limousine Dillon said to Martin, “Can’t you follow us in another car?”
Martin felt his patience waning, but he managed to say levelly, “No, I’m sorry.”
He got in front with the driver. As soon as Dillon and Ashley were settled in the back, Dillon pushed the button to raise the window between the seats.
“Jim, what’s the matter with you?” Ashley demanded of him immediately. “You’re doing everything you possibly can to make that man uncomfortable.”
Dillon was silent a long moment and then said, “I’m sorry, Ash, but I was looking forward to spending the evening alone with you. I haven’t seen you in quite a while, and I didn’t expect to be sharing you with some ... bodyguard.”
“I told you they were being assigned to us.”
“I know, I know. I guess I forgot. Or I didn’t realize they’d be showing up so soon.”
“Well, they’re here, and we have to make the best of it,” Ashley said shortly.
Dillon took her chin in his hand and kissed the tip of her nose. “I promise, I will. Now, can’t we talk about something else?”
The conversation shifted to the campaign and Dillon’s practice. In the