them?â
âI havenât.â
âYou said you knew something.â
âNo, I said I might be able to help you. Listen.â He lifted both hands, palms out. âWe have to sit down and talk.â
She led him to the kitchen, where they sat across from each other at the table. Fogarty planted his elbows and grasped his hands together in an oddly formal gesture. He tipped back his head and looked at her along the uneven line of his nose. âIâve lost my ring of keys,â he announced. âThe ones to all the rooms in my building. And Iâm afraid itâs your fault.â
God help me, Gretta thought. Fogartyâs red face was composed and serious, his plump lips neither smiling nor pursed. He coughed and swallowed, then reached into the pocket of his jacket for a tin flask, which he held aloft and squinted at.
âItâs been a trying day,â he said, and took a drink, eyes rolling back in his head. âI donât often indulge myselfâmy wife would have vouched for me on that. But there are times a man requires help in what he needs to do.â He offered the flask to Gretta, who made a face.
âYou were saying about your keys,â she said, aware of the clock ticking on the secretary and the growing number of miles separating her from her sons.
âMrs. Pope, you so upset me the other night that I havenât been thinking straight since. Owing me rent as you do, and then taking my generous offer so lightly. Last night, in fact, I was so distracted that I must have lost my keys while I was up at Lowmanâs Bend, fishing.â
Gretta could not respond. The manâs mind and motivations were unknowable, absurd.
âIâm on my way to find them now, and I insist that you come along with me.â
She almost laughed, out of confusion. âI donât have time,â she said. âCanât you see that? I have to figure out what to do.â
Fogarty narrowed his eyes. His gaze fell on Grettaâs lips and then her neck, which Gretta moved to cover with her hand. âIf you help me find my keys,â he said, âI will give you money for the trip youâre planning.â
âWhat trip?â
He took another swallow from his flask and offered it to her again. This time she accepted, wincing as the whiskey burned its way down her throat. Fogarty smiled, head cocked like a bird dog.
Be careful, Gretta thought, thereâs no one looking out for you.
âWhen I heard your boys were gone, I knew right off I had to help out, itâs the honorable thing to do. On the other hand, one good deed deserves another, doesnât it?â He smiled again, only for a moment. âI may be a homely man,â he said, âbut Iâm no fool. And I wonât be mocked like some rube. Youâve been telling me you know where your husband is, that heâs coming home soon. That is not the case, is it?â
âNot exactly,â Gretta said.
âSo youâve been lying to me.â
âI am trying to be optimistic.â
âAn admirable trait.â Fogarty pressed his hands together palm to palm beneath his chin. âBut if your husband has taken a permanent leave, which I believe he has, itâs to your benefitâand mineâto reach that conclusion sooner, not later.â
âI donât understand,â she said.
âBecause,â Mead Fogarty said, âI mean to take his place.â
Gretta stood up so fast the room went black, and she reached out to steady herself against the table. She wanted to run to her bedroom and shut and lock the door.
âI donât expect this comes as a welcome surprise, anxious as you are right now. But I am a decent man, offering help you happen to need. I urge you to give it serious thought.â He got up from the table and gestured toward the door. âIn the meantime, I need to find my keys. My rig is out front.â
âI canât go