Back on the street, hurrying away from the disastrous encounter with Al Towson, Ray spotted a drugstore. He needed something for his scorched hand and a phone book. The pharmacist sold him some ointment and a bandage. Ray pleaded for one stray, by chance leftover tranquilizer, but the pharmacist wouldn't oblige.
Towson had remarked that Tammy was in real estate, and indeed Ray found a listing for Tammy Jerrold. He hoped Towson hadn't phoned her yet. She answered sounding businesslike and agreed to meet him. She suggested coffee and gave him directions to the corner restaurant near her office.
He wondered which Tammy would show up, the pushover described by Loraine or the statuesque beauty under Towson's wing. He pictured her again at the party, of course that was before her ordeal. How does a strange man inquire about the condition of a raped woman? What does he say?
The small restaurant had booths on one side, tables across the front window and small palms positioned in each corner. The noon crowd was just starting. She was sitting quietly by the window. She wore her brown hair chin-length and was dressed for her real estate agent role in a beige suit with a smart white blouse. All matched with a brown suede satchel handbag, which rested on the window ledge beside her. She was remarkably attractive and perfectly composed.
She offered her hand. "When you phoned I had to think a minute. Now I do remember you from the party."
He studied her face for evidence of the assault-no sign of physical distress. He supposed her stylish sunglasses might hide a blackened eye. And there's the magic of makeup.
"I can see why Loraine would be interested in you," she said. "You seem to be her type. Serious people tend to attract each other."
"Anyone Loraine's type should be locked up."
"You'll have to explain that. She was dressed a little flashy at the party. I don't have the nerve to dress like that. She must have been high...flirting around."
"Maybe I caught her in a merrymaking mood."
"I didn't know she had one. What happened to your hand?"
"Burn, I was careless. Bought something at the drugstore. Used my left hand to wrap it."
"Without a doubt the worst bandage job I've ever seen. Let me rewrap it for you, I used to be a Candystriper."
"No thanks, it's going to be okay." Her composure surprised him. Cordial chatting wasn't what he expected. This wasn't a woman in need of solace.
"Should I be frightened or flattered about your phone call?" The waitress brought her tea and he ordered coffee. "You sounded surprised I agreed to meet you."