It was the blouse that gave Lucy away. Lucy dug out an old light gray cotton miniskirt that had shrunk on Shari in the wash. The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute. ‘And I’d like to know what the devil—’ ‘Out of town?’ repeated Melusine, stupefied. ‘Not but what it was near that before Jarvis died. Only a few weeks ago there was a bloody battle on the bridge there between the soldiery and the local police. ’ Both hands about the butt of her unwieldy pistol, Melusine glared at him. A creeping numbness invaded her.
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