"I thought your throat could use something soft and cooling."
"My throat? I haven't got a sore throat, not even a sniffle."
"Maybe not inside, but outside."
Temple shut up. Her voice still sounded raspier than usual.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.
"What should I have told you?"
"That you'd nearly been throttled to death by that muscleman."
"It wasn't that close a thing."
"Then I dragged you out on that shoe-scouting expedition to the Goliath, and you never said a word."
"Near-throttlings can't hold a candle to hunting magic shoes, and besides, it was your show.
So how did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Vanish from the Goliath gondola while Matt and I were gawking at the shoe."
"Are you sure it wasn't at each other?"
"Get real, Kinsella. You're a pretty effective chaperon. So, why don't you tell?"
"Professional secret"
"Matt doesn't think you just swam away. Maybe he thinks you're like Louie, and don't like to get wet."
"Maybe he's right."
Temple shook her head. "Louie sacrificed himself in my service, and took a bath in the Treasure Island's moat. Yes! He was aboard the pirate ship, even tipped open the chest so I could see inside. He was the last man overboard."
"Mine was a disappearing act," Max admitted. "There's a service vent in the ceiling near the emergency stop panel for the gondolas. It wasn't hard to slither up and out without either of you noticing. Those crystal shoes make a pretty good distraction."
"But why didn't you hang around for the applause? You deserved it for figuring out where the shoes were, and did Electra tell you I was after them?"
Max shrugged, finished his frozen yogurt and rinsed the dish in the sink. Some domestic habits had sunk in during their cohabitation.
"I didn't want to steal the thunder of your triumphal detective work."
"And you left Matt and me alone in the Tunnel of Love. I thought you were jealous."
"Not jealous, realistic. I can't be a stable factor in your life, not now, maybe not ever. Why should I be a dog in the manger?"
"Because you can growl? And why come around Matt and offer to help him?"
"Know thine enemy? He's an interesting guy. I sense I'm missing the key to his character.
He's too nice for his own good, but... I see darkness." He glanced at Temple with Louie-green eyes. "You could give me a clue, if you wanted to."
"If I had any right to."
"And I don't have any right to press you." Max thrust himself away from the counter like someone pushing himself from a Thanksgiving table when he has no appetite. "Temple, you can't depend on me now for anything you depended on me for previously, not even just being there."
He was leaving again, and she felt the same unreasoning panic she had felt when he had seemed to be gone for good.
"I have matters to attend to, which may never be settled," he said. "I wouldn't bother you, or your new neighbor, except that you've involved yourselves in them. Please don't anymore. I know it's not fair for me to bounce in and out of your life like a Ping-Pong ball. I'm disturbed to discover you've been risking your life. I'm here to tell you such risks aren't worth it. I did it once when I was young, and I've never been able to stop running. So. I'll try to stay away from you and yours. I'll hope you stay safe and sane from now on."
He had already eased to the door, leaving all the unanswered questions behind.
"Max!" She followed, catching him halfway out the door.
He put his fingers to his lips and shut the door as if vanishing into one of his own trick boxes.
When she jerked it open a half second later, the hall was empty.
"Max?"
But he was gone, and his frozen-yogurt carton was dribbling on the countertop.
Temple went back inside and put the carton in the freezer. Then she washed the dishes and cried into the soapy water in the sink. Then she picked up one of the bowls and smashed it in the sink. As the water drained, leaving a rainbow foam of suds, she stared at the shards glittering under the overhead light.
Something told her she was not alone. She turned her head to find Midnight Louie sitting on the drain board, staring with polite feline horror at the broken glass.
Temple fished out the surviving saucer, rinsed away the lukewarm suds and filled it with a few dollops of caramel-pecan maple-marshmallow chocolate-ripple yogurt.
"Eat up, my lad," she told him. "I'm not letting you out until I know that it's safe out there for cats, 'cuz it sure isn't for people."
Chapter 10
A Monstrous Notion
"I really feel silly," Temple said, "although that's nothing new lately."
"Nonsense, dear girl. Trust me. Muumuus cover all."
Temple turned in Electra's dimly lit entry hall, checking herself out in the mirrored vertical blinds.
A five-feet-tall woman in a floor-sweeping muumuu covered with fuchsia orchids the size of dinner plates was indeed an outre sight.
"This is Halloween," she said finally. "Maybe they'll think I'm going as the Incredible Shrinking Woman wearing her formerly fat wardrobe."
"Just who is this 'they' you get all hot and bothered about?"
"You know, Them. Everybody else who's too cool to be caught doing something silly, like looking as if they're going trick-or-treating when they're thirty years old!"
"Thirty is nothing. And if you don't want to wear my muumuu--"
"I'll wear it!"
Electra was resplendent in one of her own tropically lively muumuus, her hair sprayed a flaming red color that Temple found disconcertingly close to her own natural hue. She bent to peer at Temple's hem.
"Are you wearing your magnificent Midnight Louie high heels under there?"
"No. They're in here." Temple patted her trusty tote bag. Tonight's licorice-black patent leather model had genuine Halloween flavor. "Too nice for tramping through the haunted house; I'll put them on at the Phoenix afterward, when I take this off for the Crystal Ball."
"Ooh, this is going to be such fun! Too bad your aunt Kit isn't here; she'd love it."
Temple wasn't at all sorry Kit wasn't present; Kit was a worse influence than Electra. "Oh,"
she said, peeking into Electra's dim inner rooms. "What a neat cat statue. Is it new?"
"No, old as the hills, and not a cat statue."
"I could swear ..."
Electra rattled her boxy purse. "Got to get going. One doesn't wish to keep the spirits waiting. They might start rapping their toes without us. Might get up to some mischief. Now, shoo into the hall and I'll lock the door"
Temple shooed, then waited until Electra had secured her door, still peering inward.
"If you have got a cat in there, you're well advised to keep it locked up until the Halloween tricksters are history. Louie is pacing and howling, but he's confined to quarters until the streets are safe again for black cats."
"What makes you think I've got a cat? Honestly, Temple. I think your grip has slipped a bit since Max came back."
"Nothing has slipped except my patience. Men are more bother than they're worth, anyway.
I imagine you figured that out with your--how many?--husbands."
"I don't believe I've ever mentioned the exact number of my past spouses, dear, and I'm not about to do a body count now. I suspect that we ladies only say men are a bother when we're bothered by them, or they're not bothering us as much as we might wish." Electra pushed her half-glasses down her nose and regarded Temple quizzically. "Who's not bothering you now?"
"Everybody except creepy Crawford Buchanan! Let's go."
"But Electra remained firmly planted, an appalled look on her face.
"You have . . . objections to Crawford Buchanan?"
"Doesn't everybody?"
"Well, no. He's joining our seance tonight."
"Awful Crawford? Why?"
"He represents a television program that has done some worthwhile features on spirit phenomena before--"