“You can’t do this to me,” Meade complained. “There must be some law around here.”
Shayne laughed shortly. “I’m beginning to get the western viewpoint. I might do all right out here after I get the hang of things. I heard you tell Miss Forbes that you were responsible for Nora Carson’s absence from the theater tonight. I don’t give a damn about that angle, but I want to know where she is.”
“I didn’t say anything like that. I just said—”
“I heard every word of it. You said that Miss Forbes needn’t worry about Nora coming back. That she was in for good. That you’d fixed it that way.”
“I didn’t,” Meade repeated sullenly. “I didn’t say that.”
“You’ve got a bad memory.” Shayne scowled and doubled his right fist. “Maybe I can repair it for you.”
Christine flung a protective arm around Joe’s neck. She flared, “You can’t hit a man when he’s down.”
Shayne’s upper lip came back from his teeth. “I can kick his face to a pulp if he doesn’t start talking.”
“Don’t you dare, you big bully,” the girl screamed. She laid her cheek against Joe’s and begged, “Tell him, Joe. It doesn’t matter. Tell him where Nora is.”
Meade averted his face and muttered, “Can’t you get it, Christine? I don’t know anything about Nora. I was just — well, I just wanted you to think I’d fixed it to put you over. I was crazy for fear you’d forget me after you became successful. I’m nuts about you, honey. I couldn’t stand that. I thought if I could make you believe I’d arranged for Nora to miss her cue you’d be grateful to me and — oh, hell, I was just putting up a front. See?”