Must have been a good party, then.’ Joanie’s voice sounded unnaturally loud in Dulcie’s cubicle. But despite the throbbing headache, Dulcie wasn’t complaining. ‘Margaritas,’ she said as explanation, both to her office mate, who today had traded her customary black for a virulent purple, and to herself. Better the odd apparition should have been alcohol induced. Please be careful. The words came back to her. Who had she trusted? Why did cats have to be so enigmatic? She’d flirted with Bruce, sure. But that was it. She hadn’t even given him her number. Still muzzy-headed as the office day wound to a close, she decided to go directly to the library from Priority. Not that she’d get much work done in this state, but maybe the air-conditioning would clear away the fog. But once she’d climbed out of the T and hiked across the Yard, she began to have second thoughts. The broad stone steps up to the library entrance seemed particularly steep this evening, the marble foyer somehow chilling.
