Devil May Care by Elizabeth Peters Page B

under heavy brows.
    She ran to the telephone. Ted didn't let her say more than a few words.
    "I'll be right over," he said, and hung up.
    Ellie sat on the edge of the bed holding the telephone.
    The echoing silence at her ear made her feel absurdly alone, as if Ted's voice had been a lifeline from which she was now cut off. Then the dial tone began. With a shiver she hung up the telephone and forced herself to stand.
    Franklin had stopped growling, but he was still looking at the window. As Ellie passed the dog she put one hand on his soft head and felt him start, in a disconcertingly human fashion. She sidled up to the window.
    The starlit lawn was deserted.
    How long she stood there she did not know, but it could only have been a few minutes before Ted appeared.
    His house was only a quarter of a mile away by the wood path he and Kate habitually used. She jumped nervously when he appeared from among the trees, but there was no mistaking Ted, even in the faint light. His eyes went at once to her window.
    "Ellie?"
    "I'm here. He's gone ... "
    "So I see." Ted switched on the flashlight he was carrying. "I had hoped to catch your intruder by surprise, but there's no point in stumbling around in SO Elizabeth Peters the dark any longer. I'll have a look around and then come in. Stay where you are." "I will," Ellie said.
    She watched the light until it vanished around the corner of the house. A few minutes later she heard Ted's voice from the hall.
    "It's me."
    "I'm coming down," she called, and did so.
    Franklin and two of the cats went with her; the dog seemed completely relaxed now, and delighted at this activity at an hour that was usually pretty dull. He flung himself on Ted, yapping shrilly.
    Ted was dressed casually but impeccably, as usual, from his Givenchy sport shirt to his Gucci loafers.
    The latter were muddy and leaf-stained. Standing by the open front door, Ted stepped out of his shoes and grinned cheerfully at Ellie.
    "How about a cup of coffee?" "Ted, you're a hero," Eilie said. "You can have coffee or anything else your little heart desires. Bless you for coming."
    "Nothing heroic about it." Ted followed her toward the kitchen, pushing cats out of his way with the ease of long practice. The animals, especially the nocturnal varieties, were assembling from all parts of the house. "Either you were having another hallucination, in which case there was no danger to me--or else your visitors were supernatural, in which case my curiosity is strong enough to override my naturally timid disposition. Good Lord, girl, I'd walk miles to see a genuine, honesi-to-God ghost. I'm only disappointed that I didn't."
    "You and Kate are disgusting," Ellie said sternly.
    " '' isn't the word for you; you're plain nosy.
    Even about the hereafter!"
    "At my age, curiosity concerning that particular region takes on a poignantly personal edge," Ted said. He settled himself at the table.
    "I don't believe in ghosts," Ellie said.
    DEVIL-MAY-CARE 51
    "Why didn't the dogs bark?" Ted asked.
    "Maybe they did and I didn't hear them."
    "Possible, but unlikely. They do bark at intruders, you know; the}-' aren't the useless, spoiled hulks they appear."
    "They're supposed to bark at ghosts as well as burglars," Ellie said stubbornly.
    "Not bark. They cower, whining abjectly." Ted was smiling. But Ellie fell a shiver go through her, as she remembered the Peke's soft, disturbed whine.
    "This is a sillv discussion," she said. "What should I do, Ted?"
    "You could call the police. Or Kate. I doubt that you'll get much sense out of either. Or you can just sit tight, see what happens next."
    "I hope nothing happens next," Ellie muttered.
    "If you'd like me to move in temporarily--"
    "No. What good would that do? No insult intended, Ted."
    "I know," Ted said soothingly. "I've always wondered, myself, why the presence of a single man in the house is supposed to deter malefactors. Or why wives in cartoons are always waking up their paunchy, flabby, middle-aged