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Why had she actually married any man, Sandra asked herself now, on the way to her mother’s party, as she turned the car radio to one of the music stations and synthesized harpsichord music filled the car.Dozens of young lovers in the last ten years – it wasn’t the life her mother had brought her up to have, but each time she went to bed with a new man some constantly renewed spring of optimism, or perhaps mere desperation, made her hope that this time it was going to be right, going to work, going to be magic.All her lovers had all been younger than she when she met them. Each of them had been so entranced by her exquisitely sexy prettiness that they had been capable of miracles. At first each one had made love to her three or four times a night. Always, that last time, they were slow to arousal, almost lazy, almost not caring, without the fatal urgency that chilled her, and sometimes she experienced a small, brief spasm that was – almost – an orgasm. Perhaps it was actually a real. At least they don’t have the keys you have. If, of course, we ever figure out where to look for the locks they open.’ We climbed in my car, and I pulled out of the parking lot. Lisa sat there looking at the only remaining thing from Calvin’s house, the ticket stub, frowning. ‘Where now? Back to Houston?’ I asked. ‘No,’ she said slowly. ‘Head to Broadway and then over to fifty-first street. This ticket may be more important than it looks. The keys are labeled S.W.P. and it’s possible that means Seawolf Park. I don’t know why I didn’t make that connection before.’ I made the turn onto Broadway. ‘Because you didn’t have time to really look at it with all the other information?’ Lisa nodded. ‘That’s as good a reason as any.’ She turned in her seat and looked out the back window. ‘Now I’m paranoid. Let’s go past fifty-first and go through the McDonald’s drive through. A Big Mac and fries are called for, and maybe we can tell if we are being shadowed.’ She pulled her cell phone out of her.
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