investigation. I suggest you step away before I’m forced to charge you with impeding an officer of the law.”
The colonel released Laura like she’d given him an electrical shock. He glanced at them both with a skeptical eye then retreated into the crowd. Mason turned to a surprised Laura, took her hand and waist, and began to dance.
“Thanks, but I can take care of myself,” Laura said.
“I’m sure you can.”
“Then why the Tarzan routine?”
“I wanted to apologize for the other night. I went too far, and I’m sorry.”
Laura smiled. “You hit pretty close to the bone.”
“You did, too.”
“I have half a mind to walk away.”
“What’s the other half say?”
“To put up with you long enough to get your story. That, and the murder at the factory.”
“How did you know about . . . Oh, that’s right, your general boyfriend, Jenkins. Where is he? Won’t he be jealous of us dancing?”
“He had other obligations.”
“His wife is in town?”
“Don’t be nasty. What about your date? Won’t she be jealous?”
“I didn’t come with one.”
“I guess I’m not surprised. Big in muscle, low on charm.”
Mason chuckled. The music stopped and everyone applauded. The bandleader announced that they would be taking a short break. Laura pointed toward the top of the steps. “That guy is smiling at you like a proud father.”
Mason saw Wolski standing near a group of tables with his arms crossed and a big grin. “That’s my partner.”
“Are you going to introduce us?”
Mason offered his arm and Laura took it. He led Laura up to Wolski and introduced them.
“A reporter?” Wolski said. “Isn’t that like fraternizing with the enemy?”
“Not you, too,” Laura said.
“Ah, I was only kidding.”
“I think she got that,” Mason said. “Your smile’s so big we can see your tonsils.”
“Come over and join us,” Wolski said and nudged Mason to say something.
“Yeah, join us,” Mason said and thrust his thumb Wolski’s way. “This guy’s a pushover. Put on a little charm and he’ll tell you anything.”
“In that case, lead the way,” Laura said.
They had to squeeze past tables full of raucous diners, and afterhelping Laura to her chair it took some acrobatics for Mason to get seated.
Once Wolski settled in, he studied Laura for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “I didn’t recognize you out of your reporter’s outfit. You were at that riot. I got a big kick out of that article about our chief.” He laughed, then stopped abruptly when he saw the expression on Mason’s face.
The waiter came by with the menus, and they ordered cocktails. Anna nearly bounced in her seat when a waiter passed with a tray full of food. She opened the menu and grinned like a kid in a candy store.
“Anna, are you getting enough to eat?” Laura asked.
“Thanks to Vincent.” Anna smiled at Wolski. “The American authorities issued my mother and me the number five ration card. Only fifteen hundred calories per day. The other Germans call the five card the ‘death card’ because one cannot live long on only that much food. And people usually can’t even get that much.”
“I hope that’s not the only reason she hangs out with me,” Wolski said.
“No!” Anna said. “I like you very much, but sometimes I don’t understand you.”
“So, Laura,” Wolski said, leaning into the table, “I’ve never met a woman war correspondent before.”
“There are more of us than you think. You name a theater of the war, and there was a woman correspondent covering it.”
“How did you get in that line of work?”
“I thought
I
was supposed to ask the questions,” Laura said. She looked from face to attentive face. “Okay, fine . . . I was doing fashion photography in Paris when Germany invaded France. I had a French boyfriend at the time. Actually, we were engaged to be married. He was killed at Dunkirk. I guess instead of falling apart, I decided to cover the
The colonel released Laura like she’d given him an electrical shock. He glanced at them both with a skeptical eye then retreated into the crowd. Mason turned to a surprised Laura, took her hand and waist, and began to dance.
“Thanks, but I can take care of myself,” Laura said.
“I’m sure you can.”
“Then why the Tarzan routine?”
“I wanted to apologize for the other night. I went too far, and I’m sorry.”
Laura smiled. “You hit pretty close to the bone.”
“You did, too.”
“I have half a mind to walk away.”
“What’s the other half say?”
“To put up with you long enough to get your story. That, and the murder at the factory.”
“How did you know about . . . Oh, that’s right, your general boyfriend, Jenkins. Where is he? Won’t he be jealous of us dancing?”
“He had other obligations.”
“His wife is in town?”
“Don’t be nasty. What about your date? Won’t she be jealous?”
“I didn’t come with one.”
“I guess I’m not surprised. Big in muscle, low on charm.”
Mason chuckled. The music stopped and everyone applauded. The bandleader announced that they would be taking a short break. Laura pointed toward the top of the steps. “That guy is smiling at you like a proud father.”
Mason saw Wolski standing near a group of tables with his arms crossed and a big grin. “That’s my partner.”
“Are you going to introduce us?”
Mason offered his arm and Laura took it. He led Laura up to Wolski and introduced them.
“A reporter?” Wolski said. “Isn’t that like fraternizing with the enemy?”
“Not you, too,” Laura said.
“Ah, I was only kidding.”
“I think she got that,” Mason said. “Your smile’s so big we can see your tonsils.”
“Come over and join us,” Wolski said and nudged Mason to say something.
“Yeah, join us,” Mason said and thrust his thumb Wolski’s way. “This guy’s a pushover. Put on a little charm and he’ll tell you anything.”
“In that case, lead the way,” Laura said.
They had to squeeze past tables full of raucous diners, and afterhelping Laura to her chair it took some acrobatics for Mason to get seated.
Once Wolski settled in, he studied Laura for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “I didn’t recognize you out of your reporter’s outfit. You were at that riot. I got a big kick out of that article about our chief.” He laughed, then stopped abruptly when he saw the expression on Mason’s face.
The waiter came by with the menus, and they ordered cocktails. Anna nearly bounced in her seat when a waiter passed with a tray full of food. She opened the menu and grinned like a kid in a candy store.
“Anna, are you getting enough to eat?” Laura asked.
“Thanks to Vincent.” Anna smiled at Wolski. “The American authorities issued my mother and me the number five ration card. Only fifteen hundred calories per day. The other Germans call the five card the ‘death card’ because one cannot live long on only that much food. And people usually can’t even get that much.”
“I hope that’s not the only reason she hangs out with me,” Wolski said.
“No!” Anna said. “I like you very much, but sometimes I don’t understand you.”
“So, Laura,” Wolski said, leaning into the table, “I’ve never met a woman war correspondent before.”
“There are more of us than you think. You name a theater of the war, and there was a woman correspondent covering it.”
“How did you get in that line of work?”
“I thought
I
was supposed to ask the questions,” Laura said. She looked from face to attentive face. “Okay, fine . . . I was doing fashion photography in Paris when Germany invaded France. I had a French boyfriend at the time. Actually, we were engaged to be married. He was killed at Dunkirk. I guess instead of falling apart, I decided to cover the
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