Shock

When the bill came, the women were interested to see where Spencer kept his wallet. They were both hoping it would be in his jacket pocket. But it wasn't. To their chagrin it was in his rear pants pocket where it returned once the credit card had been replaced.

As they reached the front of the restaurant and were about to leave, Spencer excused himself to use the rest room.

"You're going to have to be creative to get his pants off," Joa

"It's surely not going to take creativity to get him out of his pants," Deborah whispered back. "The creativity is going to come in dealing with his expectations. I'm amazed at how much he drank and how little it's seemed to affect him. He's had two martinis and two bottles of wine minus the minuscule amount you and I drank."

"He did slur his words a little during dessert," Joa

"And sway a little, too," Deborah added. "But that's not much effect for that much alcohol. To be that tolerant he must be more of a lush than he appears. If it had been me with that amount of alcohol, I'd be comatose for three days."

Spencer appeared at the men's room door, smiled when he saw the women, and then proceeded to stagger on a skewed course to collide with the hostess stand. He grabbed onto it for support. The dismayed hostess came from behind the stand to help.

"All right!" Deborah exclaimed in a triumphant whisper to Joa

"Is he all right?" the hostess asked as the women came up on both sides of Spencer and lent a hand.

"He's going to be just fine,' Deborah said. "He's just unwinding a bit."

"Do you beautiful ladies know where my house is?" Spencer asked, slurring his words again.

"We certainly do," Deborah said. "Ms. Masterson pointed it out to us today."

"Then we'll have a race," Spencer a

Before Deborah could nix the idea, Spencer shook free and ran out of the restaurant.

Deborah and Joa

"Wait!" Deborah cried. They ran toward the car, but by the time they got to it, Spencer had the huge engine roaring. Deborah got her hand on the driver's side door handle, but the door was locked. She rapped on the glass. She started to suggest that she drive, but Spencer merely laughed harder, pointed to his ear to indicate he couldn't hear, and then accelerated out of the parking lot.

"Oh crap!" Deborah said as she and Joa

"He shouldn't be driving," Joa

"Yeah, well, he didn't give us a lot of choice," Deborah responded. "I hope he makes it. If he doesn't, let's be the first on the scene – not that that's how I pla

The women ran back to the Chevy Malibu. Joa

“What did you think of Spencer's response about the Nicaraguan ladies?" Deborah asked as they turned onto Pierce and headed east.

"He seemed truly surprised about them being pregnant," Joa

"That was my take as well," Deborah said. "I'm getting the impression that things are happening at the Wingate Clinic that the founder doesn't know much about."

"I'd have to agree," Joa

They turned off the main road onto gravel and approached the Wingate Clinic gatehouse. It was dark except for a barely discernible glow of light behind one of the small, shuttered windows. As they entered the tu

"Do you think the guard will come out?" Joa

Deborah shrugged. "My guess would be no, since it's after hours. So let's just pull up to the card swipe and try one of our new cards." Deborah got the card out of her shoulder bag and handed it to Joa

"Voila," Deborah said. She took the card back and put it away. Joa

"The place looks even more sinister at night," Joa

"I couldn't agree more," Deborah said. "It looks like a place Count Dracula could find inviting."

Joa

"Any ideas of how we should proceed from this point?" Joa

"Not really,' Deborah admitted. "Except to push the alcohol. Maybe we'd better try to find his car keys while we're at it and hide them."

"Good thought!." Joa

"Could we turn the music down a tad?" Deborah yelled. With an unsteady gait, Spencer went to the entertainment console. The women used the opportunity to survey the interior. It was Decorated like a English manor house, with oversized, dark brown leather furniture, red oriental carpets, and dark green paint. Oil paintings of horses and fox hunts lined the walls, each one individually illuminated. The knickknacks were mostly riding paraphernalia.

"Well," Spencer said, returning from lowering the stereo. "What…". " get for you ladies before we get down to business?" Joa

"Let's explore that wine cellar you mentioned," Deborah said.

"Good idea," Spencer said barely pronouncing the d's.

The basement looked as though it hadn't been touched since the mid-nineteenth century, save for the addition of several bare low-wattage electric lights. The exposed granite blocks that formed the foundation were dark with mold. The partitions were made of rough-hewn oak planks held together with huge, primitive iron nails. The floor was dirt. The air was clammy because of a number of muddy puddles.

"Maybe I'll wait here on the steps," Joa

Deborah was fearful that Spencer would not make it in his inebriated state. On several occasions she did have to give him support to keep him from falling.

The wine cellar turned out to be just one of the many partitioned-off cubicles whose crude doors were secured with huge old padlocks. Spencer produced a key the size of his thumb from his jacket pocket and got the hasp open. Inside the compartment were a half-dozen cases of wine placed haphazardly on makeshift shelves. Spencer did not hesitate. He opened the first case and pulled out three bottles. "These'll do," he said. Without bothering to replace the padlock, he staggered back to the stairs, clutching the bottles under his arm.