“Thanks,” Betty said.
“Say, where you having supper?” the detective suddenly demanded.
“I don’t know. Here, I guess.”
“You can’t stay cooped up here all the time — you’ll go stir-crazy. Come on out and have supper with me. It’s Friday — say, I’ll take you to a place where you’ll get the best pot roast you ever sunk a tooth in. Reasonable, too. Only have it Fridays. Come on. Unless” — he looked from one to the other — “you two have other plans.”
Conway preferred to take Bauer in small doses, and he had already had enough for one day. But there was no telling what the sergeant might think if he refused.
“Sounds good to me,” he said. “How about you, Betty?”
“Fine. I’ll go up and change.”
“Care for a beer while we’re waiting?” Conway asked as Betty went into the house.
“Don’t mind if I do.” The detective headed for the kitchen with no further urging.
“What’s been happening? Anything new?”