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She yawned.

The bathroom door was closed.

She stretched out an arm.

And stretched.

And stretched and found only empty bed linens.

Temple frowned for a moment, then relished her unexpected privacy. She felt wonderful, all over. Body, mind, soul. Like an unused instrument that had performed a very private concerto. In the muted daylight, the alien ring gleamed on her left hand. A band, winding like a road. A stone, glittering like a rainbow pond. Diamonds like dew. Everything was. . . like, groovy.

She bent over the bed's edge to fish up the fallen chiffon. Might as well see in daylight what this thing had looked like last night.

Max should be out of the bathroom soon. She didn't hear the shower spattering . . . She got up, wriggled into the nightgown and tiptoed to the bathroom door.

A small desk crouched against the wall beside the bathroom door. An oblong of stationery caught her eye. An oblong of written-upon stationery.

She stopped, braced her arms on the desk and read the bold, left-leaning script.

Temple darling,

The salutation stopped her heart. It could only lead to one thing.

I hate this, but the call came last night and you were dead asleep. Somethings happened in Las Vegas I need to look into right away. I thought of taking you with me, but remembered you and Louie may still have business at the advertising agency. I'll tell you everything as soon as you get back, and call you at your aunt's this afternoon. This isn't the way I planned to wake you up in the morning, believe me.

All my love, Max

"Max!" Temple repeated aloud, making a fist and hitting the paper.

On her white-knuckled hand, the broad gold ring looked like a weapon.

She relaxed her fingers. What else could he have done?

Max.

Chapter 39

The Billie Holiday Blues

"How did it go?" Kit wasted no time in greeting Temple at the door. She peered beyond her, hopefully, into the hall.

"Mixed reviews," Temple said shortly, barreling past her in the warm red coat and bunnie-cute earmuffs and gloves.

Inside, she ripped them off and tossed them on a chair.

"Mixed reviews?" Kit collapsed atop her discarded outerwear on the chair. "You surprise me. Max surprises me."

"Me too. Oh, the main event was fabulous. It's just that the encore was sadly lacking."

"Encore?"

"He's gone. Left last night. Sometime. I was sleeping. Called back to Vegas."

"A magician is on call?"

Temple cast her aunt a quelling look. "Oh, it's not his fault. I understand. It's just that it was a teeny bit anticlimatic, you might say." Her smile felt wan, even to her. "Thanks for the radical gown. I really needed that."

"But the performance was . . . adequate?"

"Auntie Kit, your best gown did not serve in vain, that I can assure you. I just like to wake up next to the man I slept with the night before. Like I said, it's not Max's fault. He has. . . obligations

"I went out with a fireman once. Don't laugh, I did. Sweet man, sexy man, but he did keep odd hours."

"Odd hours. That's the way to put it." Temple glanced down at her left hand. "My Christmas present."

"Oh, honey! That's gorgeous. And very promising."

Temple nodded. "You're right. I'm being immature. The evening was wonderful, the restaurant, the food, the hotel, Max. I needed every bit of it too." Temple leaned against the wall. "It all just happened so fast. My emotions feel like they've been on a roller coaster."

"I can understand that. How long since you and Max have been together?"

Temple calculated. "Almost ten months."

"Sounds like things went better than most people would expect after all that time."

"He's going to call this afternoon."

"But he won't be here for your party tonight?"

"No. What did you really think of him, Aunt Kit?"

"Oh, my. Don't ask the deprived. Of course, I've been smitten ever since you reported that he told you that going to bed again would resolve all your doubts. I do like a confident man. Did it?"

"Yes, and no."

"Hmm. You're wearing the ring."

"I loved him, and he loved me, but I don't know if we can work out what needs to be worked out."

"Past tense?"

"Past tense bleeding messily into present and future, especially now that we've tumbled into bed again. I can't really explain what stands between us, Kit. It's very serious, and not either one's fault. We're caught by past circumstances. Nobody to blame. But sad just the same. For now, there's hope. I guess that's what I should concentrate on."

Temple shrugged. "Do you want your, uh, thingamajiggy back?"

"It's your memory now. Keep it and wear it in good health."

"It's not wearing it that's so good for one's health, Aunt."

"Whatever," Kit said coyly, looking pleased.

The day would have been anticlimactic, like any morning after the night before, except that at 4 p.m. Kit's phone rang.

She dashed to get it, then stretched the cord as far as it would uncoil to check on Temple's location: brooding at the Manhattan cityscape for one of the last times this trip, a slick magazine lying open and unread on her lap.

Kit laid down the receiver and ran to get Temple.

"It's a man," she whispered like any roommate.

"What man?"

"I didn't ask, but who do you suppose? Who said he was going to call from La Vegas?"

Temple checked her watch as she rose and clomped over to the phone in deliberate contrast to Kit's hush-hush manner.

"It's only one P.M. there." She was about to point out to her aunt, who like most Easterners had a very vague idea of where time zones changed and what that meant, that Max would barely have had time to get to Las Vegas and tend to whatever was so urgent by now, much less call her. But she was at the phone, so she picked it up and said a slightly less perky than usual "Hello."

"Yes?" she repeated, as if something was wrong with the line.

"Oh!" She went on, aware that her whole tone had changed. "I didn't recognize your voice at first. Must be the long-distance lines. No, I'm not disappointed. Just. . . tired."

Kit came racing over on her even noisier scuffs, primed for eavesdropping, even if the act was fated to be one-sided. She leaned against the window ledge and concentrated so much Temple feared she could hear through long-distance lines.

Temple sat slowly on one of the tall kitchen stools, feeling bemused.

"Not too tired to talk, no. You are? This afternoon. How did everything go?

"Oh, really.

"That's. . . good. I mean, wonderful!

"Yes, I am pretty tired out." Here Temple glanced at her aunt with a significant look. "Yes. Up late. Maybe that's why I sound a little .. . 'down.'

"Well, I can't wait to hear the details.

"Yes?

"Yes?

"No!

"All right. I'll be back about noon tomorrow. No, don't meet me at the airport. Really, I mean it. It's such a hop, skip and jump home, and my luggage arrangement worked great, even with Louie the pouch potato aboard.

"Think we got the job. Pretty solid. Yeah, I'm excited. Solved the murder too.

"I'm sure you are too. And I'm glad, I'm really glad that your trip was so productive.

"Yeah. That's wonderful."

Kit had come nearer with every answer, watching Temple's face contradict her words all the more the longer the conversation continued.

"I'm so happy for you. Can hardly wait.

"Yes.

"Yes, I do."