She said, wonderingly, “Why would Ralph want to fight with me about Dirk? He doesn’t mean anything to me.”
Doris shrugged. “You’d better ask Ralph that. I’m sure I don’t know why he’d be upset.”
Anger stirred in Aline and her eyes narrowed. “All right,” she said viciously. “I will ask him, since you suggest it.” She came to her feet in one lithe movement and swung out through the hall leading to the closed bedroom door before Doris could stop her.
With a choked cry of protest, Doris ran after her, caught her just as she started to turn the doorknob. She twined her fingers in Aline’s brown curls and jerked her back before she could open the door, sobbing hysterically.
“You stay out of there. You’re crazy. I won’t let you…”
Aline twisted around and slapped the pudgy, tear-wet face resoundingly. Doris released her hair and fell backward against the wall, her lips working in and out soundlessly, her eyes round with fear and surprise.
The bedroom door opened. Fully dressed and completely unruffled, Ralph smiled quizzically and said in his quiet, rich voice:
“Now, now, girls. Mustn’t fight over me. I’m really not worth it, you know.”
Aline faced him, stiffly erect and her eyes filled with scorn. She said bitingly, “I couldn’t agree more. Why don’t you come in and be cozy instead of skulking in the bedroom?”
Ralph smiled at her. He had dark wavy hair and the blandly handsome features of a man of small intellect. He said smoothly, “Just doing the gentlemanly thing, my dear Aline. Now you’ve discovered our little secret, we will be cozy.”
Doris was still leaning against the wall, sobbing. Ralph went over and put an arm around her shaking shoulders, drew her close and kissed her lips, then turned her to follow Aline who had stalked back to the living room.
Ralph soothed Doris: “Don’t take it so hard, my sweet. I’ve told you over and over that Aline has no reason in the world to care what you and I do together. Isn’t that right, Aline dear?”
“Perfectly right.” She sat stiffly erect in her chair and watched Ralph lead Doris to the couch and settle her beside him with a protecting arm around her shoulder and her face snuggled against his chest.
How could she ever have been taken in by him, Aline wondered bitterly? How could she have thought him charming and sophisticated?
“So why,” she demanded, “did you give one little damn what Dirk and I did at Bart’s party?”
“But I didn’t,” he protested. “What on earth gave you that idea? Were you so tight you don’t remember?”
“All right, so I was tight. Doris told me that you and I fought about Dirk.”
“Dear Doris,” he murmured, smiling down at the blonde head against his chest. “She invariably gets things wrong. I told her I wasn’t in the least concerned about whom you played around with. You started the ruckus, you know.”
“No, I don’t know,” she snapped. “I’ve admitted I was tight. I’m just trying to make some sense out of what happened at Bart’s. When did I leave the party? Where did I go?”
“Oh, oh.” Ralph’s tone was smug, knowing. “You mean you pulled another of your famous blackouts?”
“Not exactly. Not like last time.” Did Doris know all about last time, she wondered? She knew about it, of course, but she was aware that Ralph was the man Aline had waked up in bed with the next morning? Aline didn’t think so. But Doris might have heard rumors… might have guessed the truth.
“I was drunk,” Aline went on candidly. “I vaguely remember all sorts of things. Like our fight, but I haven’t the foggiest idea how it began… or ended.”
“Then I shan’t disillusion you,” Ralph told her heartily. He was making like a big brother now. “It really wasn’t important and you’re better off not remembering too much. What else comes through?” he ended with a sharpened note in his voice.
“There was some man,” Aline faltered. “Someone I’d never seen before.”
“There was, indeed. A Mr. Torn, wasn’t it? Didn’t I hear him being introduced as Vincent Torn?”
“I don’t know. Describe him.”
Ralph chuckled. “After all, my dear Aline, who should be better able to describe him than you?”
“But I tell you there are gaps.”
Ralph shrugged his broad shoulders. “He wasn’t the type who lends himself to description. Mediocre, that’s it. Nondescript. What you can see in a fellow like that…” He shook his head sadly over the vagaries of women.
“Did I leave the party with him?” Aline asked fearfully.
“I’m not sure, but I’m positive you did if you were able to drag him away.” Ralph put two fingers under Doris’ chin and lifted her face. “Did you see Aline leave, sweet?”
“I thought she went with you.” Doris’ voice was husky. She cleared her throat and added, “You both disappeared about the same time.”
“But you can’t be positive?” Aline asked her.
“No, but I asked two or three people and they told me not to worry about you… that Ralph could be trusted to take good care of you,” Doris gave a short, harsh laugh.
Ralph smiled indulgently. “Which I could be, of course, if I had escorted you home, Aline. But I left the party alone, while you were still there. You can ask Bart,” he went on swiftly. “He argued about my leaving so early. I couldn’t tell him that you and I,” he gave Doris a squeeze, “had plans for later on.”
“But we didn’t,” Doris protested. She sat erect, and her eyes were round and guileless. “I was never so surprised in my life when you turned up on my doorstep.”
“As if you hadn’t known I was coming… and arrayed yourself in your most beguiling negligee. And I loved you for it.” He bent his head and kissed Doris tenderly on the lips. Her arms went around his neck.
Aline stood up. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds now,” she said in a thin voice. “Sorry I interrupted, but I did want to get a line on last evening.”
“Oh, no.” Ralph hastily released Doris and came to his feet. “It’s almost daylight. I have to consider Doris’ reputation and not stay too late. My car’s parked just outside. I’ll run you home.”
“You needn’t bother,” Aline said stiffly, turning to the door. “I can walk.”
“No bother at all. I’m sure Doris wishes we’d both go and let her get her beauty sleep.”
He was directly behind Aline as she stepped out, and for a brief moment she felt a chill sense of fear course up her spine. It was silly, of course. She knew it was silly. But she wished desperately that Doris would call him back.
Ralph closed the door firmly and took Aline’s arm to help her up the stairs, muttering in a low voice, “Thank God for small favors. I thought I was never going to be able to break away from that empty-headed little fool.”
“A fine thing to say about a girl,” Aline retorted. “Particularly after you’ve just spent the night with her.”
“Exactly the time one would say it about Doris,” he told her cheerfully. They reached the street level and he led her toward his parked convertible.
“What did you say about me after that last time?”
“The truth, of course. Not all the truth,” he amended hastily, opening the door for Aline. “No one in the world knows anything about that night except that you passed out and I took you home and tucked you in.” He patted her hand, closed the door, and went round to the other side to slide under the wheel.
As Aline settled back against the cushion she felt something hard against her right hip. Twisting around slightly, she put her hand down to discover a small leather handbag wedged between the seat cushion and the back.
It had a familiar shape and feel as she drew it half way out. Covertly she glanced down at it in the light from a street lamp and shuddered. It was her own alligator bag. The one she had carried to Bart’s last night. The one that had been missing from the hotel room. The one she had searched for so zealously.
Ralph had turned on the ignition. He was pressing the starter button, his eyes on the road. The motor whirred and took life.