Rescue

little deeper than that.“
    “How deep?“
    “Jay’s kind of my ex-fiancé.“
    I just looked at her.
    Adair returned it steadily. “So, this mean the date’s off?”
    “I’d like to think about it.“
    “How about while you’re doing that, I sew up your pants, at least?“
    “I don’t have a needle and thread.“
    “I do.“ The gleamy smile. “At my place.“

16

    A ctually, walking to work is usually fun, except for tonight, of course. Uh, take a right... here.“
    I did. We passed some houses on stilts, I assumed as a precaution against storm flooding, even with Mercy Key’s higher elevation.
    Adair said, “You see, you get to kind of organize your mind on the way in, and then you get to blow off steam on way home. Plus, it helps keep those unwanted pounds from showing.“
    “You don’t look as though you have a problem there.“
    “Thanks, but really the food goes right from my lips to my hips. If I didn’t do five aerobics classes a week—including step ones?—I’d be a blimp inside a month. How about you?“
    “Me?“
    “Yeah. You’re not old, but I don’t see many men your age in your kind of shape. What do you do?“
    “Some jogging, stationary bike, StairMaster.“
    “They did a run down here last December, called it the ‘Key to Shining Key Ultramarathon’ because they went along U.S. 1 from Largo all the way to Key West .“
    “That’s something like a hundred miles, right?“
    “Uh-huh. And it was a hot day for that time of year, into the eighties.“ Dawna stopped. “You do Nautilus, too, right?“
    “How’d you know that?“
    “Your arms.“ She reached over with her left hand, the index finger very slowly and lightly tracing the bicep, then down the forearm, then up the tricep again. “Free weights’ll give you either a body-builder look or a beer-truck look. You don’t get that nice, long muscle definition like you’ve got without using the Nautilus.“ A low, purring quality came into her voice. “Uh-oh, now I’m giving you goosebumps, maybe I better stop?“
    We came to a T-intersection. “Which way from here?“
    “Left, then two blocks and a right.“
    After the left, I went two blocks but didn’t see anything.
    “Okay, the right is just... there.“
    I pulled into a narrow driveway with a couple of old stumps as posts subtly marking its entrance.
    Adair said, “Home sweet home.“
    It was a smallish place of gray, weathered wood, the moonlight showing multicolored, volleyball-sized fishing floats strung across the front of the house like cranberries on a Christmas spruce. Two stories, the first having no apparent doorway, the second an abruptly slanting roof. Nice trees and flowering bushes were planted all around, a topless Jeep Wrangler parked on scrub grass off to the side.
    I said, “Everything but a dog to greet us.“
    “Tough to have a dog here, John. With no frost to kill them, you have fleas year-round.“ Dawna swept her hand at the building. “You’re looking at an authentic conch cottage. Well, actually it’s more like a cigar-maker’s house.“
    Putting the Sunbird’s floor-shift into park, I said, “Don’t get you.“
    “Come on in, and I’ll show you.“ Adair reached over with her left hand, briefly covering my right and giving it a squeeze. I jumped a little.
    She said, “What’s the matter?“
    “Just burned it some, couple days ago.“
    The low purr. “In that case, I’ll be gentle.“
    Dawna took a while getting out of the car and walking to the side of the house. I followed her.
    “There’s no front door, because everybody comes to the dining room to get in.“
    “The dining room?“
    We reached the back of the house. Another sweeping ges ture. “The dining room.“
    It was a covered patio, the floor laid in wide, weathered planking, the ceiling just the underside of the roof above it. The furniture was rattan, like the stools at the Padd-Thai, except for a solid wood table and a similar swing with cushions, sort of a love seat suspended on chains secured to a beam by what looked like blackened railroad spikes.
    “Nice,“ I said.
    “Oh, John, you don’t know how good it can be to have your meals outdoors, any kind of weather. When we lived in Virginia , we had the change of seasons, and I liked that, too. But down here... I don’t know. There’s oodles of bugs, but I just love it.“
    “What makes it a cigar-maker’s house?“
    “My grandpa got the idea for it when he visited Key West. A lot of