They opened the front door of the house to find Bruce and Judy sitting with another couple in the living room, all holding the dregs of what had been a martini. The greetings were ebullient, the introductions quick and informal. There was enough distraction that it took everyone a moment to note that Katie was glowering at the guests, her lips pinched and her face bright red. She turned and stomped off to her room.
"We had fun! I promise!" Oscar bleated.
"Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into that child!" Judy huffed, shaking her head in a kind of amazed fury.
"Just let it go." Bruce said quietly, catching his wife's hand as she rose to follow her daughter. "She's practically running the household with this reign of terror."
Judy nodded in assent, took a deep breath and turned to her friends.
"Aren't you glad your nest is empty?" she sighed.
The visitors were Dennis and Carol Markham - neighbors who lived across the alley. Judy explained that she had met Carol a year earlier when they were both out walking the dogs, and it wasn't long before they had all become fast friends.
The Markhams looked like a comedy team. He was an enormous man – taller than Oscar and built like a linebacker, with a thick neck, deep set blue eyes and a skiff of blonde hair on his head. Carol was short and round, with shiny red cheeks, sparkling green eyes and dyed chestnut hair. She gleamed with all the health and shine of a polished apple.
"We should get cleaned up a little." Jaime said, feeling soggy and bedraggled from their time in the rainforest.
"Are you kidding? You look terrific! Fresh and outdoorsy." Carol replied. "All you need is a martini. And as I'm the martini queen around here, I'm going to make you one!"
Refusal was not an option. Carol, obviously very comfortable in the Moore's kitchen, quickly and noisily shook up two drinks and poured them with a bartender's flourish. Though Jaime wasn't much of a martini drinker, the cool bite of the gin on her tongue was most welcome. Oscar, who loved martinis, murmured his appreciation and downed half of it in one gulp.
Whether it was the martinis or the good humor of the expansive Markhams, Jaime found herself feeling fully at ease for the first time since they'd arrived. It was quickly decided that the kids would be left at home to order pizza, while the adults would head across the alley for lasagna. There was that pleasant sense that they were in cahoots to help Judy and Bruce escape the tyranny of children.
"Before we go I had better go see what's up with Katherine the Great." Bruce said, rising reluctantly from his chair.
"Mind if I join you?" Jaime asked.
"Be my guest." he said, with a look that suggested he questioned her sanity.
They found Katie slouched on her bed, glumly flipping through an Archie comic.
"Do you want to tell me what that was about?" Bruce asked.
"I don't like them." she grumbled.
"They're very good friends of ours. You've always liked them up till now, Peanut. What happened?"
Peanut shrugged. Shrugging seemed to be her staple response anytime she felt cornered.
"Have either of them done something to hurt your feelings or make you feel bad?"
Katie shook her head and shrunk and glowered, and then appeared to rethink. "Mrs. Markham yelled at me last week for coming into their yard. And I was just getting my frisbee."
"Well that's because you let the dog out. We've been through all that." Bruce admonished gently.
"I couldn't help it!" Katie protested, as though the injustice was too much to bear.
"You can't blame her for being upset. Who wants to spend the afternoon running all over the neighborhood calling for Buddy?"
Katie folded her arms. "I don't like her anyway. And you shouldn't either!" she added accusingly.
Bruce frowned and seemed taken aback. Jaime saw a sternness settle into his face. "Since you don't have a decent reason for your rudeness, you need to go out there and say hello properly."
"No!" Katie yelped, hunkering down so hard she was almost engulfed by the collection of stuffed animals that surrounded her.
Bruce sighed and looked to Jaime. She smiled sympathetically.
"The evening can go one of two ways." he said coolly. "One: You can go say hello nicely, and then you will be in your brother's care while the grownups go to the Markhams. He will order pizza and Brenda will come over and then he will likely play his new Queen record very loud and you can dance around and even stay up till nine o' clock because it's a weekend. Or..." he added, "two: You can refuse to go and do the polite thing, and then I will stay home with you, and I'll be mad because all the other grownups will be having fun across the alley. I will make rubbery fried eggs for dinner and watch the news and you will go to bed at 7:30." He folded his arms. "Now if you have a real reason to be angry with Mr. or Mrs. Markham I'd like to hear it. If you don't, I'd like you to do what I ask."
Katie's internal struggle was illustrated by uneasy wriggles and a fierce frown. "Okay." she finally grumbled.
Bruce guided his little daughter into the kitchen, his hand in the small of her back. Conversation halted when she made her appearance.
"Hi Mrs. Markham. Hi Mr. Markham It's nice to see you and I'm sorry I was grumpy earlier." she said, the words running together. If she was insincere, it wasn't apparent.
The adults fell all over themselves to reassure her, and Bruce smiled at her approvingly and nodded, indicating she was released. "Better go tell Sam the drill." he said.
Sam emerged from the basement, and was given money for pizza. He didn't seem to mind being stuck with his kid sister, which Jaime found both surprising and oddly touching.
The six adults, still holding their drinks, left the house and progressed in a line through the backyard, out the gate, across the alley, into the Markham's yard (careful not to let Buddy out), through the sliding doors into a spacious living room. The aroma of lasagna filled the house, and they all breathed appreciatively and remarked how delicious it smelled.
The most remarkable feature of the Markham's living room was the model ships – ten of them encased in glass, interspersed amongst the books on the shelves, taking pride of place on the mantelpiece, and even set in a stack of three against the window so that in daylight they might float on the grassy seas of the back yard.
Jaime knew what a thrill this would give Oscar, his boyhood love of models barely abated in adulthood. There was always some miniature of other in his office - a ship, a plane, a rocket. Ostensibly they were there as prototypes of new technology but she knew he loved them just because. True to her expectation his face lit up and with delight and astonishment when he identified the little destroyer at the bookcase as the very one he had served on early in his Naval career.
This in turn thrilled Dennis Markham so much he threw his hands in the air and wiggled his fingers, a gesture charmingly light and unselfconscious on so large and rugged man. He explained that he had made each model was wood, made from scratch using sets of plans provided by the local modeling club. Bruce had helped him immeasurably by allowing him to spend hours on his lathe making hundreds of tiny railings for the deck. When Dennis began to quiz Oscar as to the layout of the mess hall, Jaime decided it was time to seek out the company of the women.
Judy was perched on a stool at the kitchen counter, watching Carol tend to the creation of more drinks. The first martini was coursing pleasantly through Jaime's system and it helped her to not much care what Judy might be thinking about her.
"I think she's becoming like Bruce's mother." Judy groaned. "She's not like me, and she's certainly not like Bruce...but his mother! Now there was a woman who might break every bit of glassware in the house when she was in a mood. And sensitive - Lordy!"
"Redheads." Carol replied. "I've got a bunch in my family - trouble one and all."
"Katie?" Jaime asked.
Judy nodded, and for the first time she looked Jaime in the eye.
"Was she all right with you today?"
"She was great." Jaime replied. "A little…mercurial, but otherwise a terrific kid." She decided not to elaborate any further. Somehow Katie had drawn them into a tacit agreement of silence. She hitched herself on to the stool next to Judy's and no sooner had she put her glass down than Carol was refilling it. She was beginning to enjoy herself.
Once the hostess's lively eyes locked on her, the subject of Katie was left behind as Carol set out to discover everything she could about Jaime – her background, her tennis career, her teaching job, her interests. It wasn't an inquisition - just pure, honest curiosity, and Jaime was flattered by it. While she moved deftly around the kitchen preparing salad and lining up cutlery she eked out much of the abridged version of Jaime's life. Even Judy warmed up, propping her elbow on the counter, listening and smiling.
"Now how did you and Oscar get together? And how, for that matter, did he manage to stay single till now?" Carol asked in a conspiratorial tone, sidling up close, and looking across the room to the man in question. "Has he got something against shaving?" she added, as an afterthought.
"When are we going to eat?" Dennis roared in a pretend rage from one room away. "I'm going to chew off Bruce's leg any minute now!"
"Okay, okay!" Carol yelled with a giggle. "It's ready! Come and get it!"
Jaime was grateful for the interruption. There was something about the way Judy had leaned forward, squinting slightly, that made Jaime oddly nervous - as though she might say something to incriminate herself - though she couldn't imagine what that something might be.
The dining arrangement was informal. Dennis had lit a fire and turned out the lights so they sat in a warm semi-darkness, plates on their laps, the flickering light only just illuminating their dinners.
"Delicious!" Bruce murmured appreciatively, his mouth full of lasagna.
"I have a really good vegetarian recipe." Carol said, poking at her food thoughtfully, "but I had hamburger to use."
"Oh, this is perfect." Oscar replied, "My beloved wife is always trying to get me to eat vegetarian food, but men like meat. We're big and hairy and mean and we eat meat. Right Babe?" He turned to his wife, gazing at her with a look of tipsy mischief.
"I'm with you on the big and hairy." she replied. "Not so sure about the other two."
After dinner Dennis brought out bottles of scotch and port and red wine, and insisted everyone have something. Jaime thought it was the best dinner party she had been to in ages. Judy's wry humor was particularly keen, and Carol's endless curiosity sparked some interesting conversations. Jaime indulged her own curiosity and learned more about their hosts - they had married "far too young" at nineteen, that Dennis was a real estate lawyer, and Carol had dedicated herself to raising their three children, now all grown up and living on their own. Their eldest was due to produce a grandchild in February and they were ecstatic.
It was easy to see why they had become friends with Judy and Bruce. Carol's ebullience lifted Judy out of her natural reticence, and they shared a dark sense of humor. Bruce and Dennis had obviously bonded over carpentry and craftsmanship, and Dennis was even taking part in the canoe building efforts.
Around nine Jaime realized Oscar had not made his third security call of the day. Frantically she gestured to him across the room, miming a receiver held to her face. Oscar's eyes widened and he jumped to his feet and headed for the kitchen. She heard the murmuring - longer than it ought to have taken, and became nervous. Was a special forces team going to come crashing through the door any second now?
On his return, he paused, ducking close to her ear. "Thanks Babe. I told them I'm not calling in the rest of the weekend."
"Wha…?" she murmured, gazing in disbelief as he sat back down, watching his irritated expression give way to satisfaction. Who was this alien in her husband's body?
They tiptoed back into the house near midnight and found it quiet. Bruce made a quick tour and found everything in order. Katie was fast asleep in bed, Sam was reading in his room and reported that Brenda's mother had picked her up at ten. Carl was asleep on the couch, so all was as it should be. Judy yawned widely and whispered she just had to hit the hay. The other three nodded in woozy agreement.
The moment the latch of their bedroom door clicked behind them, Oscar got straight back to business. "How are we going to get into Sam's room?"
Jaime needed a moment to orient her brain to the question. She frowned and pondered, despite the fact that at this moment she couldn't have cared less.
"We've got to get this thing wrapped up. I need my razor back." he said. How could he appear to be so sober?
She was about to open her mouth to tell him it could wait till morning, when out of the blue she had a genuine brainwave. She could practically feel her head light up, and there in her mind was an image - perfectly clear - with a halo around it. A small sculpture on a shelf – crudely made of clay, probably by a child - of something that looked like a cat curled up in a chair.
"I'll be right back." she said, suddenly back into the investigative groove. Tiptoeing out to the living room so as not to disturb the snoring graduate student, she made for the bookshelf on the far side of the room. There was the little sculpture she had envisioned, and under it was the prize. Without stopping to examine it, she snatched up the square of paper, and sneaked back to the room.
"Hmm!" Oscar said, obviously impressed.
It was a drawing of a cat.
"A cat?" Jaime mused, "How many cats are there in this house? Could the clue be wrapped around the collar?"
Oscar shook his head. "We would have seen it. Four cats, I think. Wait a minute…" Oscar snapped his fingers, "could the clue be under that towel the cats sleep on in the living room?"
"Maybe…" Jaime said, wishing again they could just go to bed.
This time Oscar tiptoed out. The towel rested on the wide arm of the couch, cat in residence. Being a little drunk he made a minor miscalculation, and lifted the little animal up quickly and without warning. She meowed loudly in protest. Carl's eyes opened.
Oscar wondered how it must have looked to him – a near stranger poised over him in the dark, clutching an irritated cat.
"Goodnight Carl." he said soothingly.
Carl closed his eyes. Oscar lifted the towel and smiled in satisfaction when he saw the square of paper. He snatched it up and with cat in one hand and clue in the other he sneaked back to the room.
"I woke Carl." he said in a loud whisper as he entered the room. Placing Tippy carefully onto the bed he added, "Am I imagining it or does that guy smell like smoke?"
"I had the same thought." She held out her hand for the clue.
It was a picture of a bird.
"Oh...we're not going to have to dig something off the bottom of a birdcage, are we?" Jaime asked, wrinkling her nose.
"They don't have birds…I don't think." Oscar replied. "Could there be some relationship between the cat clue and the bird clue?"
"Dunno. If it's not a pet bird it's probably something outside and it's going to have to wait till morning." she said, as firmly as she could manage. "We can't go waking up the whole neighborhood."
"I want to get this thing solved."
"Honey. This is not OSI business. Take it easy. We're half cut and it's late and we're on holiday." Still she could see the gears whirring in his head. Hooking her fingers through his belt loops, she added, "Let's go to bed. We like bed, remember?" She watched this remark pierce through the clouds of his preoccupation, and then he looked at her as though he had just experienced a revelation.
"That's right – we do like bed, don't we?" Placing his hands firmly around her waist, he leaned down to nuzzle her neck, stubble scratching her skin in a not unpleasant way.
"How did you get along with Judy tonight?" he murmured, kissing her just under her jaw line.
"Judy who?" she sighed, pressing herself into his warm and welcoming body.