She was lounging contentedly in the crook of his arm while her console radio quietly leaked the music of Xavier’s Cugat’s Waldorf Astoria Orchestra into her living room. “You look tired, Frank.” Casey smiled and hugged her. “You’ll get used to it.” “Oh, no. I’ve got things in mind for you, mister, and there won’t be any room for you being tired.” Before he could reply the phone rang. “Who could that be at this hour?” She rose and picked up the receiver. “Hello?” “Hi, Brigid. How’s the happy bride?” “Wes, I was hoping you’d call. Did you have an easy trip back from Havana?” “Like a breeze. Is the groom there?” She looked over at Casey and smiled. “He hasn’t moved in yet, but he sure takes up a lot of space. Here he is.” She handed it to Casey, who’d gotten up to join her. “I was wondering if you’d call tonight,” Casey said. “When did you get in?” “Before noon today. I tried calling you at the office and they told me you were off on a case.”
