"And don't forget about Mayor Spurgess. You've got a busy time ahead of you. Good luck."
Walking back toward his own office, McLeod saw that the flow of co-respondents had slowed to a trickle. He swore softly. The last girl in line was Tracy Kent, a tawny-haired divorce specialist with an admirable record. McLeod liked Tracy, but it was strictly brother-sister stuff.
Tracy was going to marry Harry Crippens.
CHAPTER II
"Hey, Darius. A girl gets hungry for lunch around this time every day."
McLeod smiled. "Won't Cripp be along soon?"
"Search me." Tracy rubbed her stomach under the smooth, tautly drawn fabric of her dress. "When this piece of machinery starts to gurgle, I eat."
"Well, I was going to head over to the Press Club in a few minutes anyway. Don't you have to get yourself caught with someone today?"
"Later on. Tonight. Now I'm hungry."