“And your husband?”

“I thought you understood that, Mister Shelton. You are to be my partner for the evening…”

Shelton’s mind was reeling when he hung up several minutes later. He was still in a daze when he made the photographic prints and put them on the dryer. In the fifteen years as a private detective, he had never before made extra copies of any client’s photographs… no matter how juicy. This time, however, he broke his own rule because he knew that he wanted always to remember Sylvia Akron and what she had done to and for him that afternoon.

He really didn’t come back to complete reality until he found himself standing before a mirror in one of Palo Alto’s best known and most expensive men’s stores having a $350.00 black mohair and silk suit fitted to him. He hardly recognized the man he saw in the mirror; it was a different Shelton, a Shelton who was almost polished, almost handsome. It was the image of the man Shelton had wanted to be when he had planned to become a lawyer. The war had shot down those plans. Before he left the store, he had blown another $75 on one pair of shoes, and over $100 on shirts and ties.

As he walked back to his dingy little office, he noticed that he was actually standing a bit straighter and taking long strides. It was then he knew… with utter incredulity in his mind… that he wanted the Akron woman and was going to do his goddamnedest to get her… for keeps… no matter what the cost. Then he said, aloud, “Tod Shelton, you are the stupidest shit alive.”

Five hours later, he was en route to Santa Barbara on the first leg of his assignment.

CHAPTER THREE

The day was simply full of pleasurable surprises, Sylvia thought. First, she had awakened to find that Bruce hadn’t come home at all last night and hadn’t even bothered to call. For a moment she had flared in anger and then abruptly recognized she didn’t care one way or the other any longer. The hell with him; she wanted only one thing and that was revenge.