Shayne grinned and opened a drawer to get out a bottle of cognac and two four-ounce glasses. “We’ve still got a drink left. Relax and have one with me.”

“As long as you’ve got a drink of cognac, you don’t think about expenses,” she charged, her brown eyes blazing with wrath.

Shayne’s grin widened. He poured one glass full and looked at her inquiringly. She shook her head and took a backward step. “You just want to get me woozy so I won’t mind if you go off on a trip to El Paso.”

He lifted his glass and arched his eyebrows at her. “Why, Lucy. I didn’t realize you would mind.”

“I don’t. Not the way you think. I hate to see you fall for a sob story like that. No wonder Captain Denton told her you could be had cheaply.”

Shayne tossed off the cognac and laughed. “Get me a reservation on the next plane for El Paso. If I need a priority, get in touch with Captain Campbell, Military Intelligence.” He gave her a telephone number.

Lucy’s brown eyes widened. “Do you really think it’s a spy ring?”

“I doubt it, but there should be enough in the story to wangle me a priority for plane space.”

The sparkle went out of Lucy’s eyes. “Just another one of your shenanigans. What am I going to tell Mr. Pontiff Jalreaux when he calls tomorrow?”

“Tell him any damned thing you want to,” Shayne told her impatiently.

“That you’re in El Paso on a charity case?”

Shayne poured his glass half full of cognac again. “There’ll be certain compensations for my trip to El Paso,” he assured her gravely. “You see, I knew Jeff Towne ten years ago. I did a little job for him while I was working with World-Wide. He had a daughter. She was twenty. Her mother was Spanish.” He emptied his glass and smacked his lips. “Carmela will be thirty now. A beautiful and frustrated thirty.” He set his glass down and there was a queer gleam in his eyes.