“No,” he agreed. “I’m not Ralph.”
“Then who are you? What are you doing here?” she gasped, backing away. With one arm and hand she tried to cover her breasts, while with the other hand, she attempted to conceal the spot that Eve once covered with a fig leaf.
“Why shouldn’t I be here in my own bed?” Shayne demanded reasonably.
“But this is Ralph’s room. Where is he? What kind of trick is this?” The woman moved around the foot of the bed as she spoke. Her voice was strained with fright and anger. She grabbed at the top sheet to cover her nakedness, but it was firmly tucked in and did not give.
Shayne sat up and propped both pillows behind him. “This,” he told her coolly, “has been my apartment and my bedroom for more years than I like to remember. I’m turning on the light,” he warned. “Let’s see who you are and what this is all about.”
The woman sprang through the doorway as the light came on. Shayne glimpsed a heart-shaped face framed in brown hair, and a slender, youthful body only partly concealed by arms and hands.
“Please, please stay in there until I can get some clothes on,” she begged. “I’ll only be a minute. There has been a terrible mistake. I thought you were my husband. Please stay there.”
“Like hell I will,” Shayne grated. “And let you run out on me before I find out what this is all about?”
“No! I tell you it’s all a horrible mistake!” her voice was sincerely pleading. “I’ll get dressed in the bathroom and then I want an explanation. I don’t understand any of this, but I intend to get to the bottom of it.”
“I could do with an explanation myself,” Shayne growled. He glanced at the clock again. The time was 2:26. He was amazed that only six minutes had elapsed since he last noted the time. He retrieved his pajama top from the floor where he had tossed it earlier and pulled it over his tousled red hair. Then be lit a cigarette and leaned back comfortably against the pillows.