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Nelda was at the wheel, and Gladys, beside her on the front seat, raised a white-gloved hand in the thumbs-up salute. Rand gave it back, and watched the car swing around the house. Then he mopped his face with a wad of Kleenex and went over to the room-temperature thermostat, turning it down to sixty. Sitting down at the desk, he dialed Humphrey Goode's number on the private outside line.
They wanted Alona to work in the town's newly renovated theater, an investment in which they owned a small percentage. Alona's sobs lasted for some time, and she knew, just knew, that her water-proof mascara had run, so she opened the glove compartment to find a Kleenex. Out fell a letter. Her sobbing stopped as she picked it up from the dusty car floor.
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