A moment of silence followed. Then a key turned in the lock and Lou opened the door. Beads of water glistened on her satin flesh. She stood holding a bath towel to her chest. Her green-gray eyes were sullen. “What do you want?” she asked. I exhaled slowly. At least she hadn’t screamed. The chances were Lou hadn’t heard the newscast. She didn’t know May and Mr. Kendall were missing. She didn’t know what a dirty dog I was suspected of being. I said, “I want to talk to you.” She stepped back from the door. I closed and locked the door behind me. Lou looked at me a long moment, then turned and walked into the bathroom. When she came out again, she’d put on a light cotton housecoat and was having trouble with the zipper. A piece of goods was caught in the track. I pushed her hands away, cleared the track, and zipped up the front. “Thank you,” she said, primly. “Think nothing of it,” I said. “I’m an old hand with stuck zippers.” I sat on the edge of the bed and hung my hat on one knee.
