Page 119 of Out of Nowhere

“Not over the phone and not with your sidekick listening in. Five o’clock. You and Calder had damn well better be there.”

She disconnected before Elle could.

“Whew,” Glenda said. “She’s steamed. I was going to ask if we could pop into my office for a few minutes, but I’d better get you straight back to the house.”

“No…” Elle thought through an alternate plan and made a decision. “Youpop into your office.”

“While you’re doing what?”

“Not something that Compton and Perkins would favor.”

Chapter 37

Hello, Mr. Hudson. Come in.”

“Thank you for the invitation, Mrs. Draper.”

“I welcome the company. Dorothy.” She stuck out her right hand and he shook it. “I’ve got coffee ready.”

He followed her into a living area. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared through an open doorway, and he found himself alone in a room that appeared to be rarely used. All the accoutrements of a standard American living room were there, but it looked like a stage set waiting for the actors to enter from the wings.

The tinkling of china announced her return. She came in carrying a tray. He stepped toward her. “Can I help?”

“I’ve got it, thank you.” She set the tray on the coffee table and motioned him onto a sofa. “Cream and sugar?”

“Black, please.”

Her manner was pleasant and polite. She was a pretty lady who in her younger years might have been a beauty. But strife had taken a toll.

At the corners of her eyes were lines etched by perpetual tension. Although she smiled at him, her pale lips were bordered by parentheses of sorrow.

She filled a cup and passed it to him on a saucer, then poured one for herself, adding milk from a small pitcher. After taking a sip, she said, “I was surprised to hear from you. Have you fully recovered from your Fairground shooting injury?”

“A little stiffness in my arm. Otherwise, I’m fine.” He paused, then said, “When you saw my name in association with the shooting, did you recognize it instantly, or did you have to search your memory for where you’d heard it before?”

“Instantly. To many who worked at Maxwell Supply, your name is memorable.”

He grimaced. “That job marked a turning point in my career.”

“Oh? How?”

“I lost my innocence there. It was the most volatile situation I’d been in. After Maxwell, I began using an assumed name when on the job.”

“You fear reprisal?”

“Not fear, exactly. I just don’t want to leave myself open to it.”

She set her cup and saucer on the table. “You wouldn’t have had to fear it from me. I despised that foundry. It’s dangerous work by its very nature. But machinery broke down often. Accidents happened. Arnie was burned. Here.” She touched her forearm. “The skin graft was badly done by low-rent surgeons retained by the owners. To this day, Arnie bears an ugly scar.

“That was one reason he was strongly in favor of unionizing. But I wasn’t gung ho for that, either. Some of their methods were extreme. They created strife, dissonance. I actually celebrated when Arnie was fired from that place.”

“How did he feel about it?”

“Angry at first, then worried about our finances, naturally. But he livened up when I suggested a fresh start. We sold ourselves out of Des Moines and came down here.

“He got a job almost immediately at a plumbing company and worked there until…” She stared into the middle distance for a moment. “Until he could no longer find his way home from work or even remember what street he lived on.”