Stu was able, with some difficulty, to persuade Bea to drop him off at their home and then to drive the rest of us us back to Utown.
We drove mostly in silence. I'm sure my employer was sorry that nobody was asking her any questions about the case, but she was tired, so she was willing to postpone that particular pleasure.
After a few minutes, a muffled voice asked, "Can I get up now?"
"Christy, are we loose?" I asked.
She nodded. "Nobody's following us."
"You'd better stay down there, Ron," Jan said, "at least until we drop Mr. Anson off. There's nowhere for you to sit anyway."
We turned into the wooded cul-de-sac where Stu and Bea had lived for many years. As we pulled up in front of their small, pleasant house, Stu turned in his seat to face us. "Jan?" he said.
She looked up. He seldom addressed her by name. "Yes?"
"I know you'll do whatever is necessary and appropriate, given the untimely death of young Douglas, but please let me know if you need anything from me."
"I will," she said. "Yes, of course. And thank you, for everything, as usual."
"A pleasure, as always, my dear," he said, smiling.
"Will you go in and go to bed, you old fossil," Bea said. "I have hours of driving yet, and I'm only a few years younger than you are."
"As you always remind me. Drive safely, dear. If you have an accident, or if you're arrested for some heinous crime, call me after lunchtime. I should be up by then."
As we drove off, I could tell that Jan was thinking about Stu's very gentle reminder that Doug's murder had been something more than just another challenging problem for her to solve.
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