Catch As Cat Can

                "He's pulling your leg, our legs." Harry's eyes returned to Diego."Every woman in this room knows that Jim Sanburne would o anything to help; his heart is bigger than he is."

                "That doesn't excuse sexism." Lottie pursed her lips."You make excuses for men, Harry." The "you" was loaded with innuendo.

                "Lighten up." Don stifled a giggle."Otherwise I'll have to give you a stuffed shirt."

                At this they all laughed except for Lottie.

                Miranda and Tracy joined the group just as Gretchen, the majordomo, butler, servant, you name it, strolled through playing the glockenspiel. She repeated the same three notes, which meant time to go to the dining room.

                Mim and Jim Sanburne enjoyed the resources to host a sit-down dinner for sixty guests, seven courses, each with a different wine champagne, sherbets, and cakes at the end. Mim had grown up with wealth, never knowing anything but abundance although she'd suffered bouts of emotional famine. She married Jim Sanburne on the rebound. He was big, strong, handsome, poor. Over the years he'd proved hot as a forty-balled tomcat. His licentiousness had as much. to do with his sex drive as the fact that having a rich wife isn't all it's cracked up to be. In time they worked it out. He stopped running after women, she stopped giving him orders.

                After dinner the orchestra played in the ballroom, which was decorated with dogwoods, pink and white, and viburnum, providing fragrance as well as beauty. Lottie sat next to Don, who didn't ask her to dance. Finally she pulled him onto the dance floor, hissing, "Getting cold feet?"

                "No, I'm just not much of a dancer," Don replied.

                Miranda had left her purse in the Falcon. Needing her lipstick she rose from one of the small tables arranged on the sides of the dance floor."Honey, do you have the car ticket?"

                Tracy reached inside his cutaway, the inside pocket."I do. Bui you sit right here. I'll get your bag, sweetie."

                "Why don't we get it together?" She winked.

                The older couple strolled through the rooms to the front of the house, where they gave the attendant the ticket. He picked up a eel phone and called in the number. In the distance they heard the old engine fire up.

                When the car was delivered, the parking lot driver emerged, a young, slender man with sandy hair and a thin mustache.

                "Wait, don't get out. I just need to grab the lady's purse. You can take the car right back."

                "All right, sir."

                As Tracy reached in for her small, beaded purse Miranda fixed her gaze on the young man driving her precious

vehicle. She noticed that his left eye sagged and there was a red scar over his eye-row running through to below the eye. It took a moment for this ) register, then she blurted out, "You, you stole my hubcaps!"

                He blanched, shot out of the car, running flat out into the darkness.

                Tracy tore out after him. He hadn't been a star halfback for nothing and he was still in great shape. Although the kid had a head :art he was no match for the older man. When he turned to see racy gaining on him he misstepped and rolled, got up, tried to pick up speed, but Tracy knew how to throw a block. He leaned own and pushed off his right foot, sailing into the back of the young man. Tracy hit him so hard that the kid's body flew up in the air like a rag doll, then fell to earth with a sickening thud. Tracy was in him fast, squeezing his head in a hammerlock. A heavy object on chain around the young man's neck popped out of his shirt when he was blocked by Tracy. It was a Mercedes star hood ornament.

                "I didn't steal nothin'."

                "We'll see about that."

                                13

                As Tracy forced the young man back toward the house, he took no chances. Holding the kid's left arm up behind him with his other hand on the young man's collar, his grip was tight. Each time the kid tried to shake free, Tracy jerked the bent left arm upward, which evoked a howl. In the cool night air thunder over the mountains presaged an approaching spring storm.

                The main attendant had the presence of mind to find Big Mim, who in turn corralled Cynthia Cooper. The two women were waiting with Miranda Hogendobber as Tracy delivered his quarry.

                "It's the man Sean described," Miranda said. What upset her as much as anything was the fact that a young person would steal.

                Cynthia stepped forward."I'm Deputy Cynthia Cooper. Cooperate and maybe we can make this less unpleasant."

                "I didn't steal nothin'," he sullenly defended himself.

                "Why don't we start with your name?" Cynthia then turned to Tracy."You can release him. And thanks."

                The scared youth grumbled, "Fast for an old man."

                Miranda couldn't help but smile."Son, you've been brought down by one of the best halfbacks this state ever produced."

                The youth warily studied Tracy, who beamed thanks to Miranda's praise.

                "What's your name?" Big Mim betrayed irritation.

                "Wesley Partlow."

                "Mr. Partlow, your address," Cooper methodically asked.

                "Got none."

                "You must sleep somewhere," she pressed.

                He shrugged."When I get tired I-"