Swimsuit Body by Eileen; Goudge Page A

a night when he’d claimed he was staying in. I wonder if he’s out tonight with his new lady friend, Gladys Sedgwick.
    The thought of my brother burning up the sheets with a woman who’s old enough to give new meaning to Fifty Shades of Grey is enough to give me heartburn. It seems ludicrous, but then Arthur isn’t your typical thirty-four-year-old guy. We’re talking about someone who once gave himself up to a cop on the street for an unspecified crime he didn’t recall having committed. I need to find out what, exactly, is going on between him and Gladys—and if it means he’s headed for another crackup—before a situation that’s manageable becomes Houston, we have a problem.  …
    I stop at my brother’s place to see if he’s home. Arthur lives in one of those open-air sixties-era apartment complexes that are popular nowadays only as the settings for drunken swan dives into the swimming pool from upper floors on TV dramas. His building is composed of four terraced floors that overlook a pool and patio. It’s badly in need of an upgrade, and I wouldn’t swim in the pool if you paid me, but the tenants don’t seem to care, and rents are cheap. I climb the concrete steps to the second level and knock on the door to Arthur’s apartment. No answer. I’m inserting my key into the lock when a voice cuts through the muttering of TV sets and other nighttime noises from behind closed doors, startling me.
    â€œHold it right there, young fella!”
    I look up to see a skinny, bald man in a plaid robe standing in the doorway to the apartment one down from Arthur’s, brandishing a phone in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. “Evening, Mr. Fossum,” I greet him. He squints at me through the gloom of the poorly lit walkway.
    â€œTish?” He steps outside, peering as he draws closer as if to make sure it really is me. “I thought you was one of them ghetto boys looking to rob the place in that getup.” He gestures toward the dark-gray, hooded sweatshirt I have on, its hood pulled up against the chill of the evening.
    â€œSorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Mr. Fossum is a bigoted old goat, but he’s been a good neighbor to Arthur. “I’m looking for my brother. Have you seen him by any chance?”
    â€œHe stopped by earlier. Said he was going out of town and asked me to look after his hamster while he was away.”
    The news that Arthur has left town delivers a jolt, and my heart starts to race. I take a deep breath to calm my anxiety. “Did he say where he was going or when he’d be back?”
    â€œNope, and I didn’t ask.” His expression shifts to one of concern. “Say, he’s not in any kind of trouble, is he?”
    â€œNo, nothing like that. It’s just … I worry, you know?” The old man nods in understanding and takes another drag off his cigarette, his plaid robe fluttering around his white stick legs in the breeze. He always phones to let me know whenever my brother is behaving strangely, which makes us allies of sorts. “Do me a favor. Let me know if you hear from him.” Arthur might call to check up on Mr. Chips, though I consider it unlikely. Who worries about a hamster?
    â€œWill do.” The old man is turning to go back inside when something occurs to me.
    â€œYou wouldn’t happen to know if he was traveling alone?”
    â€œCouldn’t say, but that redheaded gal was with him. I seen her waiting down by the pool.”
    â€œMrs. Sedgwick?” I squeak in alarm.
    â€œDon’t know her name, we weren’t introduced. But she’s been by before. A real looker, that one.” Mr. Fossum smacks his lips appreciatively as my panic mounts. Oh, God. This is worse than I’d feared. Where could they have gone? Best-case scenario they went on a sightseeing trip or a weekend retreat. Worst-case, they’re headed