One was a balding, wiry, middle-aged man in his shirtsleeves with bright red and yellow suspenders. The other was younger and heavier, wearing a seersucker suit. He was holding Lucy’s left hand, leaning close and talking rapidly. Two gold teeth showed beneath his short upper lip as he talked. Lucy’s face was flushed, and she nodded continually, her brown eyes glowing as though she listened to pearls of great wisdom. The brandy bottle was practically empty. She didn’t look up when Shayne threaded his way between the tables. The bald man glared with open hostility when the tall redhead stopped beside her and laid his hand on her shoulder. Lucy was startled. She drew away from the heavy man when she saw Shayne, and said vivaciously, “I’ve been having such a good time, Michael. These gentlemen have been telling me all about Centerville, and it’s simply fascinating.” She put her hand on the bald man’s forearm. “This is Mr. Rexard… Mr.
