Spencerville

hadn’t heard a word from anyone in Washington. He didn’t care, except that the silence was getting ominous.
    By Wednesday afternoon, his self-imposed seclusion was becoming tedious. He wondered about Annie, worried about her, but satisfied himself with the adage that no news was good news, which was not true regarding Washington, and was absolutely contrary to the lessons of the last twenty years of intelligence work.
    Later in the afternoon, as he was pruning and splinting the raspberry bushes that had been run over, he threw down his pruning hook and kicked a bushel across the yard. “Damn it!” He didn’t like to be confined, self-imposed or otherwise, and he worried about her. He jumped in the Blazer, where his M-16 rifle sat on the passenger seat, and, with his Glock tucked in his belt, he drove out to the road. He sat there, near the mailbox, and finally got himself under control. He drove back to the house.
     
    *  *  *
     
    Keith packed the bare essentials, mostly his personal papers, passport, and a few changes of clothes. He couldn’t take the weapons on the aircraft, though he’d take his briefcase with the gadgets and gizmos such as a tear-gas pen, microfilm camera, a graphite knife, and, if you were having a bad day, a cyanide capsule, plus other weird things, none of which he’d ever used, but which he felt obligated not to leave in the house.
    He went to the kitchen and realized he was completely out of food, including beer. No one in Spencer County delivered food, as far as he knew, and it was a long time until Saturday morning. He supposed he could impose on Mrs. Jenkins or Mrs. Muller to pick up a few things for him, but he had another idea that would solve three problems at once, and he picked up the phone and dialed the Porters.
    Jeffrey answered, and Keith said, “This is the FBI. You’re under arrest for advocating the violent overthrow of the United States government.”
    “I think you want my wife.”
    “How are you?”
    “Fine. Meant to call you—”
    “Are you guys free for dinner tonight?”
    “Sure. Your place?”
    “Right. About seven.”
    “Looking forward to it.”
    “Do me a favor, Jeffrey.”
    “Sure.”
    “I’m completely out of food, and my car won’t start. Could you guys bring everything?”
    “Sure.”
    “And wine.”
    “No problem.”
    “And I need some cash.”
    “Should we bring the dinnerware, too.”
    “No, I’ve got that. Also, can you cash a thousand-dollar check for me?”
    “Sure. Hey, a friend of yours stopped by—”
    “Tell me about it later.”
    “No, you want to hear this now—”
    “Later. Thanks.” He hung up.
Annie.
It had to be Annie by the tone in Jeffrey’s voice. “Good. She’s all right, everything is fine.” Which solved the problem of finding out if she was all right, and the Porters would bring food and money, which solved the other problems of the moment. There was something uniquely satisfying about beating the bad guys at their own game, but if he didn’t put himself in these situations in the first place, he wouldn’t have to get out of them, and he might discover that he’d be just as happy mastering chess.
     
    *  *  *
     
    The Porters arrived twenty minutes late, which for ex-hippies was pretty good. Out on the porch, Keith took a canvas bag of herbs from Gail, and Jeffrey carried a cardboard box filled with plastic containers. Gail said, “I cooked everything. We wouldn’t eat for hours otherwise. You only have to heat it.”
    “I think I have a stove.”
    Inside, Gail said, “What a charming house. You grew up here?”
    “I was born and raised here. I haven’t grown up yet.”
    She laughed, and Keith showed them into the kitchen. They put the food down, and Gail said, “Curry In A Hurry.”
    “Excuse me?”
    Jeffrey explained, “In Antioch, they had this great little Indian carry-out place called Curry In A Hurry, and every time Gail doesn’t want to cook now, she says, ‘Call Curry In A Hurry.’ But I don’t think they deliver to Spencerville.”
    “Worth a try. Hey, I’m sorry to put you out like this.”
    Gail replied. “No problem. You owed us dinner, and we’re glad to deliver it for you.”
    Jeffrey went back to the car for the wine. As Gail and Keith found pots and pans, she said, “We brought jumper cables. Didn’t you buy that car new?”
    “There’s nothing wrong with the car.”
    “Oh. I thought—”
    “I’ll explain later.”
    “Maybe I can guess. The fuzz