Why wasn't she at the bank?"It's Saturday, Hugh," she said, reading my mind effortlessly.Saturday? Mary had flown in on a Monday and this was Saturday... What had happened to the week?"You've been drinking yourself into a stupor for most of the week," she said, again reading my mind."Why, Gail? Why all this?"I gestured to the room around me. I knew where I was. I was in the Hunt estate's main house, a 20-room Shangri-La that had been started and mostly finished by her grandfather. I had been here. The woman's voice had a smoothness which would be like wrapping yourself in silk if it could be worn. His eyes were low, looking at the worn down red carpet just past the door. He saw her feet, and watched one toe curl a little and rub the other foot."Ron?" Her velvet voice came again. Ron's head jerked up as he spoke."Hello, Mrs. Campbell," Stuttered Ron, "Is David home?" Ron's gaze was drawn to her dark curly hair as it fell playfully down the front of her shoulder. Mrs. Campbell observed him. More

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