He glared belligerently at me and said, “And I can get along without any of your comments for a while, Master Mind.”
“Okay by me,” I said. “I can tell you right now you’re going to draw a blank.”
“Never mind the comments,” he said angrily. “I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do about you. I–I wish it had been a murder, then I could have thrown you in the hoosegow.”
I didn’t say anything. Sellers wasn’t in any mood for argument.
Mrs. Fulton got her hat and coat, dashed cold water in her eyes, put on some make-up and joined us.
Sellers drove to the KOZY DELL SLUMBER COURT. The woman came out, looked at Mrs. Fulton and shook her head.
“No?” Sellers asked.
“No,” she said, “The woman who was with him was smaller, a well-formed pint-sized kid, with long hair, high cheekbones, big, darkish eyes, and very full lips.”
“You’re sure you weren’t fooled, not seeing her get out of the car?” Sellers asked.
“Not a chance in the world,” the woman said. “This woman — well, she knows her way around. She’s married. The other one was slinky, well, a little bit frightened. She’d done a little playing around, but she wasn’t accustomed to spending the night in auto camps.”