McNally's Dilemma by Lawrence Sanders, Vincent Lardo Page B

remember?” She nodded. “You still want the truth?” She nodded again, her fingers clutching the handkerchief. “This,” I gestured with my glass to denote the newspaper, “is just the local press. The story will draw national attention, and when the tabloids get into it, the facts will give way to fiction, pandering to the voyeur in all of us.”
    “It’s been on television, too,” she said. “Not only the local and Miami stations, but even CNN aired it with footage of the mob at our front gate and aerial shots of the house.”
    “I’m sure they bought the footage from one of our networks, just as they did when a local California station provided them with the sight and sound of O. J. Simpson playing the Pied Piper to the Los Angeles police department. But never fear, they’ll have their own crew down here by tomorrow, as will the other cable and commercial networks. Like I said, kid, it’s just day one. Our job is to think about what we can do to help your mother.”
    “Later,” Ursi said, putting down a tray of sandwiches between us. “First, think about lunch. Grilled cheese and bacon, and I’ve got pickles and homemade slaw. Your mother, Mr. Archy, won’t be joining us, as she’s resting.”
    Ursi’s tone, not an unfamiliar one, told me I was being reprimanded for forgetting Mother and I deserved the censure. However, I had a lot on my plate, what with the Fairhurst indiscretion, the Williams murder, Veronica’s tearful blue eyes, Binky’s rabies, and now a thick-cut grilled cheese and bacon sandwich on crusty sourdough replete with a pile of kettle potato chips. But still, I was ashamed of my errant behavior. “Is she not feeling well?” I said, my concern sincere.
    “She’s fine,” Veronica broke in. “I’m afraid I tired her. She gave me a tour of her garden and then—and then...”
    “Yes?”
    “I’m afraid I wasn’t a very attentive guest. I insisted on seeing the afternoon paper. Jamie went for it. Later I wanted to watch the news on television, and I...”
    “And this upset Mother. Is that what you want to say?”
    “I’m so sorry, Archy. She’s a dear, she really is. You’re right, I think the news upset her.” She shook her head, her blond hair careening in a manner peculiar to expert snipping and shaping. “I know it upset her,” she amended.
    “My fault, really. You had enough to worry about without being concerned with Mother, too. She’ll be fine after her nap. Now eat your lunch.”
    “What a way to repay your kindness.”
    Now I did place my hand over hers. The fair skin was smooth and cool to my touch. I felt a tingling in a part of my anatomy that had nothing to do with gastronomic expectations.
    Ursi joined us at table, nibbling at her efforts while we devoured them with gusto. She and Jamie often joined us for breakfast and lunch but never for dinner, which, thanks to the Master, was a very formal affair. Jamie, Ursi explained, was off in mother’s station wagon with Hobo, which explained why neither had greeted me upon my return. I told Veronica about Binky’s encounter with our canine and got the laugh I had been trying to elicit from her since my arrival.
    “I know it’s not funny,” she defended herself, “but what a sight it must have been. Poor Binky.”
    I was ready to throw Binky to the lions for another Veronica Manning smile.
    The repast put some color into her cheeks and courage into her heart. “You’ve been very kind, Archy. You’ve all been very kind,” she repeated with a nod to Ursi. “But now I want to go home. Poor Hattie is alone and must be beside herself.”
    “No need to worry about Hattie. She has her tonic, thanks to Mrs. Marsden, and she’s only been alone for a little more than half a day.”
    “It seems like ages,” Veronica answered.
    “I told your mother I would watch over you, and I intend to do just that. Put up with us for another night, Veronica, and when your mother comes home tomorrow, you can join