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“I might be able to deal with it, if it’s one I know.”
Eddie pulled into a parking spot. “Okay, deal with it.”
—
Joan and her friend Betty left Joan’s new house in Annetta’s Mercedes-Benz S550 convertible. “Pretty snazzy car,” Betty said.
“If you’re inheriting, why not go for snazzy?”
“I can’t argue with that.”
Joan headed for the LIE.
—
Mac got them into the house without setting off any alarms, and they unloaded their things and the groceries.
“You cooking?” Mac asked doubtfully.
“Nah, let’s go into the village and get something. There are restaurants still open, off season.”
“As long as you’re buying,” Mac said.
“I’m buying,” Eddie replied. His trust fund was working again, and he had plenty of cash, a credit card, and a checkbook.
They got into the car and drove away. As they turned toward the village, another Mercedes, a convertible, passed them going the other way.
“I guess a Mercedes is pretty good camouflage out here,” Mac said.
“Yep. One thing, Mac.”
“What’s that?”
“We don’t want to get into any scrapes out here. We want to fit in. The cops don’t bother you when you fit in.”
“Does my blazer look okay?”
“Yeah, everything works, except your haircut.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Grow some hair.”
“Right away?”
“As soon as possible.”
—
Joan pulled into the driveway. “There’s a light on in the kitchen,” she said. “One upstairs, too.”
“The maid, maybe?”
“She doesn’t come until the first of the week.”
“She must have left it on the last time she was here.”
Joan put the car in the garage, and they carried their things inside.
