CHAPTER 11Dave went up to the bedroom, and changed to pajamas and a dressing gown. It was a gesture supposed to show that he wasn’t a bit worried. But he was worried. It was ten o’clock and Helen had not yet come home.
The doorbell rang. He was running down the stairs before he realized that it could not be Helen who had rung it; she would have used her key. That only increased his anxiety. She might have been in an accident. This might be someone bringing him the news. His hand was damp, turning the knob.
The door was violently pushed open. The deputy named Riggs stood there. He was no longer handsome. His face was lined and puffy, his half-closed eyes were red. He looked as though he had been drunk, and shortly might be drunk again, but right now he was sober. Fairly sober. He took two
