Alan grinned. "I bet it is. I keep meaning to go see that fellow-he seems to have something for everyone else in town, so why not something for me?"
"Why not?" Norris agreed. "He's got all kinds of stuff, all right.
You'd be surprised."
"Goodnight, Norris. And thanks again."
"Don't mention it." But Norris was clearly pleased.
Alan got into his car, backed out of the lot, and turned down Main Street. He checked the buildings on both sides automatically, not even registering his own examination... but storing the information just the same. One of the things he noticed was the fact that there was a light on in the living area above Needful Things.
It was mighty late for small-town folks to be up. He wondered if Mr. Leland Gaunt was an insomniac, and reminded himself again that he had that call to make-but it would keep, he reckoned, until he had the sad business of Nettle and Wilma sorted out to his satisfaction.
He reached the corner of Main and Laurel, signalled a left turn, then halted in the middle of the intersection and turned right instead.
To hell with going home. That was a cold and empty place with his remaining son living it up with his friend on Cape Cod.
There were too many closed doors with too many memories lurking behind them in that house. On the other side of town there was a live woman who might need someone quite badly just now. Almost as badly, perhaps, as this live man needed her.
Five minutes later Alan killed the headlights and rolled quietly up Polly's driveway. The door would be locked, but he knew which corner of the porch steps to look under.
5
"What are you still doing here, Sandy?" Norris asked as he walked in, loosening his tie.
Sandra McMillan, a fading blonde who had been the county's part-time dispatcher for almost twenty years, was slipping into her coat. She looked very tired.
"Sheila had tickets to see Bill Cosby in Portland," she told Norris. "She said she'd stay here, but I made her go-practically pushed her out the door. I mean, how often does Bill Cosby come to Maine?"
How often do two women decide to cut each other to pieces over a dog that probably came from the Castle County Animal Shelter in the first place? Norris thought... but did not say. "Not that often, I guess."
"Hardly ever." Sandy sighed deeply. "Tell you a secret, thoughnow that it's all over, I almost wish I'd said yes when Sheila offered to stay. It's been so crazy tonight-I think every TV station in the state called at least nine times, and until eleven o'clock or so, this place looked like a department store Christmas Eve sale."
"Well, go on home. You have my permission. Did you power up The Bastard?"
The Bastard was the machine which switched calls to Alan's home when no dispatcher was on duty at the station. If no one picked up at Alan's after four rings, The Bastard cut in and told callers to dial the State Police in Oxford. It was a jury-rig system that wouldn't have worked in a big city, but in Castle County, which had the smallest population of all Maine's sixteen counties, it worked fine.
"It's on."
"Good. I have a feeling that Alan might not have been going straight home." Sandy raised her eyebrows knowingly. "Hear anything from Lieutenant Payton?" Norris asked. "Not a thing." She paused. "Was it awful, Norris? I mean... those two women?"
"It was pretty awful, all right," he agreed. His civies were hung neatly on a hanger he had hooked over a filing-cabinet handle. He removed it and started for the men's room. It had been his habit to change in and out of his uniforms at work for the last three years or so, although the changes rarely came at such an outrageous hour as this. "Go home, Sandy-I'll lock up when I'm done."
He pushed through the bathroom door and hooked the hanger over the top of the door to the toilet stall. He was unbuttoning his uniform shirt when there was a light knock on the door.
"Norris?" Sandy called. "I think I'm the only one here," he called back. "I almost forgot-someone left a present for you. It's on your desk." Norris paused in the act of unbuckling his pants. "A present? Who from?"
"I don't know-the place really was a madhouse. But it's got a card on it. Also a bow. It must be your secret lover."
"My lover's so secret even I don't know about her," Norris said with real regret. He stepped out of his pants and laid them over the stall door while he put on his jeans.
Outside, Sandy McMillan smiled with a touch of malice. "Mr. Keeton was by tonight," she said. "Maybe he left it. Maybe it's a kiss-and-make-up present." Norris laughed. "That'll be the day."
"Well, make sure you tell me tomorrow-I'm dying to know. It's a pretty package. Goodnight, Norris."
"Night." Who could have left me a present? he wondered, zipping up his fly.
6
Sandy left, pulling the collar of her coat up as she went out-the night was very cold, reminding her that winter was on its way. Cyndi Rose Martin, the lawyer's wife, was one of the many people she had seen that night-Cyndi Rose had turned up early in the evening.