I said, "We'll wait until the stores and restaurants open. We'll need some food, and a car for Lorna, and clothes for both of you-"
"I have my own clothes, thanks!" Martha snapped.
"We're going to try a dramatic disguise, Miss Borden," I said mildly. "We're going to bathe you and put you into a nice clean dress so nobody'll recognize you. Okay?"
She started to protest and stopped, but her gray eyes hated me.
Lorna said, "I suppose we'll be splitting up here, as soon as we're all well fed and respectably clothed. In the meantime, does anybody mind if I try sleeping in a bed, just to see what it's like?"
XIII.
In spite of the late morning start, Martha and I managed to cross half of Arizona and most of New Mexico before pulling into a large motel in the town of Tucumcari, near the Texas border, around nine o'clock that evening. Parking in front of the office, I started to get out, but remembered something and reached into my pocket.
"Here," I said. "You'd better put this on, for appearances' sake."
Martha glanced at the inexpensive wedding ring I'd picked up while she was shopping with Lorna in another department of the Phoenix store we'd patronized. She didn't move to take it.
"Don't be silly," I said impatiently. "For your own protection, you're going to have to share a room with me. Would you rather be my sister, or my daughter, or just a very good friend? I like you better as my child bride. Take it."
Reluctantly she took it and put it on. "How many 'brides' have you had in the line of business, Matt?" she asked tartly, and answered her own question. "Obviously, enough that you can pick the right ring size at a glance. But speaking of protection, who's going to protect me from you?"
I sighed. She was really a pretty corny young lady. I said, "You certainly do have a high opinion of your sex appeal! Frisking you is supposed to turn me on like a rampant stallion; and sharing a room with you is supposed to start me pawing the wall-to-wall carpet like a prize bull. Relax, Borden. You're a pretty husky girl, and I'm tired. I think you'll be able to fight me off if you try real hard."
There were three vending machines by the office doorway, displaying newspapers from near and far-well, as far as El Paso, Texas. I bought one of each and went inside to register us as man and wife. Then 1 drove around the landscaped motel maze until I located the second-floor room with the correct number, facing an asphalt parking area, a chain-link fence, and weedy vacant lot. It made for a longer walk with the luggage, but I parked over by the fence where there was plenty of room, so I wouldn't have to unhitch the trailer.
Locking up the station wagon, I wondered where Lorna was sleeping tonight, if she was sleeping at all. Well, she had her mission, and 1 had mine. I hoped she'd lay off the drinking and thinking. It wasn't her job to solve all the problems of humanity, just the one Mac had sent us..
"Are you all right?" Martha asked behind me.
"What?" I realized I'd been standing there longer than necessary. "Sorry. Just a little groggy from all the driving, I guess. That, and keeping track of all the cars behind us."
"Do you think we're being followed again?"
I started across the parking lot. "Actually, I've seen no indication of it," I said. "Of course, it doesn't really matter. They don't have to follow us, remember? They know where we're going. They can figure out the roads we'll most likely use. They can pick us up anywhere. After all, it was your phony daddy in Washington who ordered me to Fort Adams, Oklahoma, after Carl."
"You mean it's a trap. Then why-"
"Why are we driving into it? Because we need Carl. Mac didn't put him number six on the list for nothing. He's presumably supposed to organize the last five agents, as Lorna's handling the first five, leaving me free to join your dad in Florida according to instructions. Of course, I could do without Carl if I had to, as far as the primary mission is concerned, but there's also the fact that I've got to get him the hell out of that town. That's a little problem Mac apparently didn't know about when he briefed you, that I'm going to have to solve on my own, with Leonard and his agents breathing down my neck, not to mention the local polizei."
"I don't understand. What's going on in Fort Adams, anyway?"
I stopped at the foot of the stairs to rearrange my burdens so I could slip her one of the newspapers I'd bought.
"Front page, lower right," I said.
When I heard her gasp, I knew she'd found the right item. I headed up the stairs, aware of her coming slowly along behind me, trying to read as she climbed. I found the right door off the long balcony above, unlocked it, turned on the lights, went in, and dumped the luggage on the nearer of the two beds. Martha moved past me and sank down on the other bed, still reading.
Standing there, I regarded the seated girl thoughtfully. It was the best opportunity I'd had to view the effect since she'd made herself over with Lorna's help. The grubby, barefoot, girl pirate was gone, replaced by a civilized young lady. The costume Lorna had selected for her consisted of white sandals and a sleeveless light blue summer dress that hung straight from her shoulders to a waistline – if you want to call it that-located well down on her hips. There was a brief, pleated skirt below.
With its pale color and tricky pleats, I wouldn't have picked it as a sensible travel garment, but apparently, in clothes as in language, I was way behind the times. Lorna had explained to me that this type of double-knit cloth, whatever that might be, in addition to being wrinkleproof, was practically dirtproof. If it did get soiled, a quick rinse and a few shakes would have it clean and dry and crisp-looking once more. These new synthetic knits, Lorna bad said, were the answer to a female undercover operative's prayer. I noticed that she'd bought herself a tailored pant-suit of the same material..
"But this is horrible!" Martha gasped, looking up from the paper. "If it's your friend Carl who's doing it, lie must be mad!"
"So the local sheriff seems to think," I said. "Let me read it again. I just gave it a quick glance. Here, you can get some more background information from these other papers."
I handed them to her, and sat down on the big motel bed beside her. For a while there was no sound but the rustling of newsprint. I frowned at the article in the El Paso paper, trying to get at not only what the reporter had written, but what he'd known but hadn't felt free to write.
COP-STRANGLER STRIKES AGAIN
Fort Adams, OkIa.: Two bizarre murders, following on the heels of a violent student riot that claimed three lives, have brought renewed tension to this college town.
This morning, Patrolman Harold Grumman, 23, of the Fort Adams Police Force, was discovered strangled to death in his parked patrol car. The murder weapon, found at the scene, was a length of fine music wire equipped with two short handles apparently sawed from a broomstick.
Local authorities consider the weapon a significant clue, since an identical garotte figured in the violent death of Deputy Sheriff Marcus Wills, 47, whose body was found in the bushes beside the garage of his home in a Fort Adams suburb, just a few days ago. More force appeared to have been used in this earlier case, as the body had been almost decapitated by the thin wire.
In addition to the weapon used, the two crimes also have in common the fact that both officers were involved in the recent disturbance on the campus of the Fort Adams State College, when all local law-enforcement agencies were called upon to help deal with a riot in which three students died as a result of police gunfire. However, the county sheriff in charge of the murder investigation, Thomas M. Rullington, discounted this as a possible motive.