The Betsy (1971) Read Online Free PDF Page A

all the same. Sometimes I think he would have taken us out of the auto business a long time ago, but he doesn’t want to upset me.”
    “How are you going to tell him?”
    “I’m not,” he said. “Not until we’re set up.”
    “You’ll never keep it a secret,” I said. “Not in our business. They’ll pick it up the minute I go to work.”
    He smiled. “Not if we tell them something else.”
    “Like what?”
    “Everybody knows what you are. A race-car driver. They don’t know what I do. That you’re a graduate of MIT in automotive engineering and design. Or that years ago John Duncan wanted to put you on to take over the department when he retired.
    “We’ll give you a title, vice-president, special projects, then we’ll let on that we’re going in for factory-sponsored race teams and cars. That should be enough smoke.”
    Donald came into the room. “It’s time, Mr. Hardeman.”
    Number One looked at his watch, then back at me. “We’ll talk some more at breakfast,” he said.
    I got to my feet. “Right, Number One.”
    “Good night,” he said.
    I watched Donald roll the chair out of the room, then sat down again. I lit a cigarette and looked at my watch. It was eight thirty and I was wide awake. That afternoon nap blew it. On a hunch I called the girl from Hertz.
    A man’s voice answered. “Is Melissa in?” I asked.
    His voice had a father’s defensive edge. “Who’s calling?”
    “Angelo Perino.”
    He sounded impressed. “I’ll call her, Mr. Perino.” He turned away from the phone and I heard him yell. “Melissa! Mr. Perino’s on the phone!” His voice came back to me. “Melissa told me you were in town, Mr. Perino. I hope we get a chance to meet. I’m a real admiruh of yours.”
    “I hope so,” I said. “Thank you.”
    I heard the telephone change hands. She had enough southern tease in her voice to clog the lines. “Mr. Perino, this is a surprise.”
    “I had a hunch,” I said. “What happened to your date?”
    “I canceled him,” she said. “He’s really a bore.”
    “Want out?” I asked.
    “That would be lovely,” she said, and I knew that her father was still somewhere nearby.
    “Where can we meet?”
    “Do you know Palm Beach?”
    “Not really. I know how to get from the airport to here. But that’s about all.”
    “Then maybe I’d better come over there and get you,” she said.
    “Good idea,” I said. “How long will it take you?”
    “About a half hour okay?”
    “Good enough,” I said.
    When I put down the phone, Donald was standing a respectable distance away. “Is there anything I can get you, sir?”
    “Do you have any brandy?”
    “Of course, sir.” There was reproach in his voice. “Will you have it in the library?”
    I nodded and he followed me into the library. He poured the brandy into a snifter and, swirling it gently, gave it to me.
    “Thank you, Donald.” Then I remembered the dogs. “Someone’s coming to pick me up in about half an hour; can you do something about the dogs?”
    “I’ll take care of it, sir. Will you be needing your car?”
    “I don’t think so.”
    He took a key from his pocket and held it toward me. “This will work the gate and the front door. Just leave it on the card table in the entrance foyer when you return.”
    “Thank you, Donald.”
    “Not at all, sir,” he said and left the room.
    I sank into one of the old-fashioned leather chairs and sipped at the brandy until I heard the roar of her car coming up the driveway. I went outside just as she came to a stop. Of course she had the Mach One.
    I went down the steps and opened the car door. “That was quick.”
    “Super service.” She smiled. “Want to drive?”
    I shook my head and slid into the passenger seat. “No. I’m happy.” I leaned across and kissed her cheek, then sat back and fastened my seat belt.
    “Nervous?”
    “Nope. Just habit.”
    “What would you like to do?”
    I looked at her. “Let’s go someplace and