casually over her shoulder and opened the door.
I stood where I was for a moment, unable or unwilling to believe what I had seen. Then, I went down the steps, three at a time. I cut across the driveway and ran, stooping, along the far row of cars. I came parallel with Doc’s sedan, vaulted silently over a bumper and dropped down behind her.
She was kneeling on the seat of the car, her back—well, not her back, exactly—to me. She pulled a zipper on the seat cover, reached in between the cover and the seat, and fumbled for a moment. She brought out a long, thick brown envelope.
She put a foot down on the running board, and started to back out. I was in the way. She wiggled a little, not realizing that someone was behind her. She pushed, and I pushed back.
She looked around, then.
“Oh,” she gasped, and her mouth dropped open. Then, the crinkled smile returned and she cocked her head on one side. “Now, really,” she said, in a teasing-scolding tone. “Don’t you think you should ask a girl, first?”
I backed off a step, feeling my face go red. “I’m with Dr. Luther,” I said, nodding at the car. “I saw you take something…that envelope.”
“Nooo!” Her mouth formed an o of exaggerated awe. “What do people call you, you pretty red-haired man?”
“My name is Cosgrove,” I said. “Patrick Cosgrove. And I’ll take that envelope.”
“Bet you won’t,” she said, instantly, her eyes dancing.
“Now, look, Miss—”
“Flournoy. Madeline Flournoy.”
“You say that like it should mean something to me,” I said. “But it doesn’t. I’m afraid—”
“I work for Doc. He sent me after these contracts. Now is that good enough for you, or do you want to wrestle?”
“If you work for Doc,” I said, “you won’t mind my walking back with you to where he is.”
“I don’t mind at all, Patsy,” she said promptly. “But I’ve made it a lifelong principle never to give in to a redhead.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll either have to go with you or have you wait here until Doc comes.”
She put the papers and her hat behind her, lowered her head and walked right into me. She pushed against me and I could hear her teeth gritting.
I tried to reach around her and grab the papers. Instead, I caught hold of her hat, breaking the band that held it to her arm. It struck the running board and rolled between us.
“Now see what you did,” she said, reproachfully.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
We both reached for it at the same time. Our heads bumped painfully. It gave me a bad jolt, and I know it must have hurt her worse. Her face went momentarily white.
I said I was sorry again, and started to pick up the hat.
She brought her knee against my chin with a force that almost knocked me out.
It was instinctive, a natural animal reaction to pain. What I did was also instinctive.
I grabbed her by the ankles and jerked upward.
She sailed through the door of the car, open fortunately, and landed bouncing on the seat. Her feet went up in the air and her dress flew over her head.
“Just what the hell,” said Dr. Luther, “is going on here?”
8
H is hat was jammed low on his sandy hair, and there was a fleck of spittle beneath the overhung teeth. He pushed me to one side and almost jerked her off the seat.
“What in the name of God is the matter with you, Madeline?” he said harshly. “I sent you after those contracts thirty minutes ago, and I waited and waited until my parties gave up and left. And then I come out here and find you showing your backside to—to—”
“Was not backside,” she pouted. “Was underneath side.”
“To hell with that stuff! You’re not a kid; you’re not being paid kid’s wages! If you can’t snap out of it and do your work like you’re supposed to, I’ll get someone who will.”
“Bet you couldn’t!” she said. “Bet you couldn’t get any one that knows,” she stressed the word ever so lightly, “half as much as I
I stood where I was for a moment, unable or unwilling to believe what I had seen. Then, I went down the steps, three at a time. I cut across the driveway and ran, stooping, along the far row of cars. I came parallel with Doc’s sedan, vaulted silently over a bumper and dropped down behind her.
She was kneeling on the seat of the car, her back—well, not her back, exactly—to me. She pulled a zipper on the seat cover, reached in between the cover and the seat, and fumbled for a moment. She brought out a long, thick brown envelope.
She put a foot down on the running board, and started to back out. I was in the way. She wiggled a little, not realizing that someone was behind her. She pushed, and I pushed back.
She looked around, then.
“Oh,” she gasped, and her mouth dropped open. Then, the crinkled smile returned and she cocked her head on one side. “Now, really,” she said, in a teasing-scolding tone. “Don’t you think you should ask a girl, first?”
I backed off a step, feeling my face go red. “I’m with Dr. Luther,” I said, nodding at the car. “I saw you take something…that envelope.”
“Nooo!” Her mouth formed an o of exaggerated awe. “What do people call you, you pretty red-haired man?”
“My name is Cosgrove,” I said. “Patrick Cosgrove. And I’ll take that envelope.”
“Bet you won’t,” she said, instantly, her eyes dancing.
“Now, look, Miss—”
“Flournoy. Madeline Flournoy.”
“You say that like it should mean something to me,” I said. “But it doesn’t. I’m afraid—”
“I work for Doc. He sent me after these contracts. Now is that good enough for you, or do you want to wrestle?”
“If you work for Doc,” I said, “you won’t mind my walking back with you to where he is.”
“I don’t mind at all, Patsy,” she said promptly. “But I’ve made it a lifelong principle never to give in to a redhead.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll either have to go with you or have you wait here until Doc comes.”
She put the papers and her hat behind her, lowered her head and walked right into me. She pushed against me and I could hear her teeth gritting.
I tried to reach around her and grab the papers. Instead, I caught hold of her hat, breaking the band that held it to her arm. It struck the running board and rolled between us.
“Now see what you did,” she said, reproachfully.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
We both reached for it at the same time. Our heads bumped painfully. It gave me a bad jolt, and I know it must have hurt her worse. Her face went momentarily white.
I said I was sorry again, and started to pick up the hat.
She brought her knee against my chin with a force that almost knocked me out.
It was instinctive, a natural animal reaction to pain. What I did was also instinctive.
I grabbed her by the ankles and jerked upward.
She sailed through the door of the car, open fortunately, and landed bouncing on the seat. Her feet went up in the air and her dress flew over her head.
“Just what the hell,” said Dr. Luther, “is going on here?”
8
H is hat was jammed low on his sandy hair, and there was a fleck of spittle beneath the overhung teeth. He pushed me to one side and almost jerked her off the seat.
“What in the name of God is the matter with you, Madeline?” he said harshly. “I sent you after those contracts thirty minutes ago, and I waited and waited until my parties gave up and left. And then I come out here and find you showing your backside to—to—”
“Was not backside,” she pouted. “Was underneath side.”
“To hell with that stuff! You’re not a kid; you’re not being paid kid’s wages! If you can’t snap out of it and do your work like you’re supposed to, I’ll get someone who will.”
“Bet you couldn’t!” she said. “Bet you couldn’t get any one that knows,” she stressed the word ever so lightly, “half as much as I
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