5
Saturday, April 19, 1941
Mary stepped out of the movie theater into the teeming Saturday night crowd on Washington Street. Neon lights flashed on marquees offering films that intrigued her—TheLady Eve...Western Union...Road to Zanzibar...That Night inRio. Anything had to be better thanFlying Wild.
Gloria adjusted her gloves. “That was a waste of a dime.”
“Four dimes, you mean. Thanks, Jim.” Arch punched his friend in the shoulder.
Jim bumped into Mary. “Hey, I did it for Mary. I thought she’d like the sabotage theme.”
She laughed. “Oh, don’t blame me. I didn’t have a vote.”
A rainbow of neon lights reflected in Jim’s eyes. “Come on. I know it made you think.”
“Definitely.” She followed Arch and Gloria down Washington Street. “It made me think I would have preferred that.” She pointed to a poster forThe Monster and theGirl, showing a gorilla-like creature carrying an unconscious damsel in his arms.
“Next week then.”
“Maybe I’ll stay home.” She tried for a mysterious smile.
“Ah, you wouldn’t leave me alone with the lovebirds, would you?”
“I suppose not.” How could she? For the past several weeks, every Saturday evening Jim loped up the steps of her building and asked her out to nightclubs and movies and restaurant dinners. Not only did she get to go out on the town, but she enjoyed such pleasant company. Even if it was only pleasant and never romantic.
What did she expect? A man who’d doted on vivacious Quintessa would never fall for her.
That pleasant young man hailed a cab. “Come on. Admit it.”
Mary’s cheeks tingled. He couldn’t have known what she was thinking. “Admit what?”
“The sabotage plot. It made you think.” He held open the door of the taxi.
A relieved laugh spilled out. “All right, it did.” She climbed into the backseat, squished in the middle with Gloria, between the two officers.
Jim draped his arm across the seat back behind her—not touching her—just to make room. “Are they still talking sabotage at the Yard?”
“Constantly.” She swung her mind from Jim’s warm strength pressed up to her side and onto the situation at work. “The champagne incident shook everyone up. They see sabotage everywhere. They see people and tools where they don’t belong. Everyone’s suspicious.”
“Sounds like mass hysteria.” Gloria raised one brow.
“That’s what my boss thinks.”
“What do you think?” Arch said.
With all three sets of eyes trained on her, Mary forced herself to breathe evenly. But she wasn’t talking about herself, only about the situation. “I’m trying to sort it out. What if something is truly going on?”
Gloria flapped her gloved hand. “I hope you haven’t been listening to that interventionist propaganda.”
Arch barked out a laugh. “Since when have you become an isolationist? Have you been listening to Charles Lindbergh and Father Coughlin behind my back?”
“Nonsense. That’s propaganda too. All I know is I don’t want us to go to war. I don’t want you to leave me.”
Arch murmured in his girlfriend’s ear.
“This is why I need you around, Mary,” Jim said.
“I’m glad I can help.” Her breath hitched. With his arm curved behind her and his face so close in the darkened car, how could she think straight?
