Richard Deming - The Richard Deming Mystery MEGAPACK™ - 15 Classic Crime & Mystery Stories

“Tom!” I said, gripping his hand. “Are you an Elk?”

“I’m even a past exalted ruler,” he said. “Congratulations, Brother Morgan. I’ll pop for a drink.”

We went downstairs to the bar and had several. I didn’t get to talk to Tom much, because brothers who had missed me upstairs kept coming over to introduce themselves and congratulate me. I did learn that he was still a bachelor, though, and was currently between jobs. He said he had shucked his travelling job because of a disagreement with his district sales manager. He had a couple of possible jobs lined up, he told me, but he wasn’t in any hurry to get situated because he had a few bills stacked away to tide him over. He said he planned to wait until exactly what he wanted came along.

Knowing Tom’s tendency to shoot angles, I wondered if his “disagreement” with his district sales manager had been over something such as padded expense accounts or failure to turn in all his collections.

When the bar closed at one a.m., we drifted outdoors together and stood talking for a few minutes in front of the club.

Tom said, “Now that you’re a brother Elk, Sid, we’ll have to get together more often. You’re tied down with a wife, though, aren’t you?”

“I’m married, but I wouldn’t call it tied down. I’m allowed out with the boys.”

“Oh, sure,” he said with a disbelieving grin. “All you married guys claim that. I forget who you married, but I remember it was somebody I knew. It must be two years since we ran into each other, and you hadn’t been married long then.”

“Evelyn Cross,” I said.

“Oh, yeah, that cute little redhead who was a couple of years behind us in school. We used to call her Red Cross. Is she still as much of a doll?”

“Even prettier,” I told him. “How come you never married, Tom?”

He flashed his white teeth in a smile. “I like variety.”

“I got that out of my system long ago. It’s pretty nice to have someone waiting when you come home.”

“Fiddle flap,” he said. “I’ll take bachelor freedom. You coming to next week’s meeting?”

“I planned to. There’s a stag party afterward, isn’t there?”

He snapped his fingers. “I’d forgotten that. You won’t want to miss it. You play poker or shoot craps?”

“If it’s not too steep.”

“We may as well come together,” he said. “I’ll stop by to pick you up. Where are you living?”

I took out one of my insurance agency cards and handed it to him. “My home and business addresses are the same,” I said. “I use an extra bedroom as my office.”

Glancing at the card, he stuck it into his pocket and pulled out one of his own. By the light of a street lamp he wrote an address and phone number on the back.

“Pay no attention to the business address and phone on the front,” he said as he handed me the card. “I’m not there any more. If your wife balks at letting you go to a stag, give me a ring during the week. Otherwise, I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty next Wednesday.”

“I’m not henpecked,” I said a bit testily. “Just be there.”

When I got home, Evelyn was in bed but still awake. As I eased open the bedroom door, she said, “You can turn on the light honey.” I switched on the light and began to undress, thinking of Tom. “How’d it go?” she asked.

“Fine. Guess who’s a brother Elk?” “Who?”

“Tom Slider.”

Her eyebrows raised. “The Tom Slider who used to be a full-back at Claremont High?”

“Uh-huh.”

She sat up in bed. “Is he still as handsome as he used to be?”

I paused in the act of hanging up my suit to glance at her over my shoulder. “I guess, but that’s a kind of funny question to ask. You trying to make me jealous?”

Evelyn giggled. “You should be, because I used to have a mad crush on him. Is he married?”

“No,” I said shortly. “Nor employed either. You would have to live on love if you’re contemplating a switch in husbands.”

“Don’t be an old bear,” she said. “I was only fifteen when I had my crush, and as a noble senior he was above even looking at fifteen-year-old sophomores. You weren’t looking my way either back then.”

“I’ve grown more possessive in my old age,” I told her. “You knew me too back then, but I don’t recall you ever mentioning having a crush on me.”

“I’ve got a crush on you now, haven’t I? Isn’t that better?”

Looking at it that way, I decided it was. I wasn’t really jealous anyway, because I’m not the jealous type. I do incline to be possessive, but that’s not the same thing. I don’t go around frowning suspiciously every time Evelyn smiles at another man, but if I ever thought there was a chance of losing her, I would fight like a tiger. I think she understands exactly how I feel, and I think it pleases her. Jealous husbands make women feel hemmed in, but they like to know they’re wanted.

I put on my pyjamas, switched out the light, and climbed into bed.

The following Wednesday Tom Slider showed up at seven-fifteen instead of seven-thirty. I was in the bathroom knotting my tie, so Evelyn answered the door. When I entered the front room, he was seated on the sofa with a can of beer in his hand and Evelyn was seated next to him.

“Hi, Sid,” he said. “Your wife said you weren’t ready yet and forced a beer on me.”

“There’s no hurry,” I said. “The meeting doesn’t start until eight.”

“You want a beer, honey?” Evelyn asked.

I shook my head. “There’ll be enough to drink at the stag party. I’ll wait.”

I took a chair across from the sofa. Evelyn smiled at Tom.

“You haven’t changed much,” she said. “You’re still as lean and hard as you were in high school.”

“You’re still as slim and soft,” he said gallantly. “If I’d known you were looking for a husband, I’d have beat Sid to the punch.”

When Evelyn blushed like a schoolgirl, I demonstrated my lack of jealousy by saying with a smile, “You would probably have won out. She had a mad crush on you when she was fifteen.”

Tom cocked an eyebrow in her direction and Evelyn’s blush deepened. “That was supposed to be a joke, blabbermouth,” she said to me. “You just wait and see if I ever tell you another secret.”

“Well, well,” Tom said with a mock leer. “I wish I’d known before Sid got to you.”

“Cut it out,” Evelyn said. “You’re not even the marrying type, or you would have been hooked long ago. Sid tells me you’re still single. You still live at home?”

He shook his head. “The folks complained too much about my hours. I have a bachelor apartment over on Sutton Place.”

“Then I don’t suppose you get many home-cooked meals. You’ll have to come to dinner some night.”

“Sure,” he said. “Just name it.”

“We’d better get going,” I put in. “How about knocking off that beer so we can get started soon?” He tilted the can, drained it, and set it down. We both stood up.

“Thanks for the beer, Red,” Tom said. “I’ll bring your husband home relatively sober.”

“If you’re going to pick Sid up again next Wednesday, you could come to dinner then,” Evelyn said. “We eat at six.”

“It’s a date,” he said, then glanced at me and added, “If it’s all right with Sid.”

“I don’t do the cooking,” I told him. “Of course you’re welcome.”

Evelyn came over to the door to offer me her cheek for a goodbye kiss.

“What time will you be home?” she asked.

Torn said, “Don’t expect him before one-thirty. The stag won’t break up until one.”

Tom was driving a new car. It was parked headed in the right direction for the Elks Club, but he made a U-turn.