I of course omitted any reference to the possibility that Gail might be my daughter.

“So you’ve been working very long hours with this girl,” she said. “At her home?”

I explained the setup of the Hewett household.

“Well, it’s nice that you’ve gotten yourself out of the hotel for a change,” she said. “It must feel strange for you to spend the day in a place with a backyard.”

I told Nancy we hadn’t had much time to be outside, except for the sunny unpleasantries of the Heritage Picnic.

“So you’ve stayed mainly in her house,” she said, still gently needling me. She was not going to let me off the hook easily, and I couldn’t explain to her that any kind of love between myself and Gail beyond that of father and daughter was out of the question.

The same jaded waiter as last time, despairing over the unrelenting consistency of the sun’s daily rising and setting, asked if we too, like so many others in the café, were going to want something to eat. Nancy was working on the books at the Nude Ranch today and only had an hour. I was suggesting she order without waiting for Gail to arrive when I thought I heard the waiter say, “Nancy?”

But it wasn’t the waiter. It was Bob Culpepper, with Russ Hewett at his side. “Yes, it is Nancy. And Sherwood, hello.” Our waiter seized this golden opportunity to leave us.

Russ Hewett looked from me to my female companion. “It’s nice to see you again, Miss . . . ?”

Nancy offered him “Carmack” and Russ reminded her that they’d met briefly at police headquarters on Treasure Island. Nancy said she recalled.

I hoped the men wouldn’t want to join us. It was Nancy’s undistracted appraisal of Gail that I wanted.

Russ looked about approvingly. “Nice weather we’re having here,” he said, as if he might speak to his foreman about ordering some more.

“And the fair’s doing well today,” said Culpepper, pleased. “Business seems to be picking up.”

Russ asked, “How are things going at the Claremont, by the way?”

“Why don’t you and Martha and Gail come over and see for yourself?” I replied. “I can’t guarantee it, but they might lift the cover charge, as you’re friends of mine.”

I was showing off here. The Claremont would never do such a thing for a mere musician, but they might for Jack, and since I’d saved him the cost of a sideman for the rest of the stint, he’d likely be glad to intercede.

“Well, I think we’d like that,” said Russ.

“Like what?” asked Gail, arriving breathlessly.

“Hi, Gail,” said Russ. “Mr. Sherwood’s invited you and Martha and me to the Claremont. How would tomorrow do for you?”