“Wonderful. I’m in your debt.” He smiled and reached for a piece of paper, hoping that Red wouldn’t call him on the bluff. Or partial bluff, anyway. Heaven knew Drake couldn’t manage a trip to the shops in his condition, and he hated to keep asking Dot to make stops for him, knowing how eager she always was to get home. But this could work well. It wouldn’t feel like a handout to Red, not if he was doing something for Drake in return for the meal.

If he played it right, he could assure himself that Red was getting at least one solid meal a day. It would do, at least until he could help him find a permanent position.

He would make a list of all his father’s friends whose businesses were still in operation. Perhaps even get the admiral’s opinion—though he’d already asked Hall for one favor for an old friend today. Much as he liked his superior, he didn’t want to push his luck. Someone would know of something though.

The phone jangled. Drake jerked at the unexpected noise and then hissed at the pain that coursed up his side in protest.

Red jumped to his feet. “Shall I answer for you? Or bring it to you?”

“I don’t think it’ll stretch this far, but if you would?” By the time he got to it, it would probably have stopped ringing.

Red picked it up after the third one, though, answering with a chipper “Good morning, Elton residence. Holmes speaking.” He listened for a moment, brows scrunched together. “Hello? Anyone there?” After another moment of listening, he shrugged and hung up. “No one.”

Innocent, surely. A dropped line. It happened often enough. But Drake couldn’t convince his fingers to loosen around his pen. “I imagine whoever it was will call back.” It was the same thing he’d said to Dot on Tuesday night, when she had answered to an empty line. No one had called back, though. Not until now.

Drake sucked in a breath and forced himself to get back to his list. He wouldn’t worry over wasted telephone calls. He’d focus instead on helping his friend. Tracking down anything he could on the anthrax question for Margot. And convincing Hall in whatever way he could that he was still useful, even when he couldn’t answer his own blighted phone.

That was certainly worry enough for one day.

17

He was looking at her. Margot slid another bite of food into her mouth and did not look over at him. Despite the all-too-knowing grin that Willa shot her from across the table, proving that Margot wasn’t the only one aware of how Drake’s eyes kept drifting her way when he had absolutely no reason to let them.