Jack was staring at the TV, but not seeing anything, when the doorbell rang. He glanced at the clock. Eight-thirty. Late for the 'Trick or Treat' youngsters, and the local teens didn't usually bother off-duty PD lieutenants. The bell rang again.
He opened the door and blinked.
"Trick or treat." The voice was sultry, almost familiar, the face invisible behind a black silk mask, the hair covered with a witch's pointed hat, the body concealed in an ankle-length black cape.
"I'm sorry..." he began, blinking again as the witch swept off hat and mask, revealing the smiling face of Marianne Duquesne, a college friend of his daughter, Kelly.
"Hi, Mr. McInally," she said, "is Kelly ready?"
"Kelly? Ready? I don't know, I mean, she left over an hour ago, said she was going to a Halloween party." Jack was bewildered.
Marianne made a face. "Oh, no! She's forgotten about me."
"Forgotten?"
"We arranged this over a month ago, Kelly must have forgotten."
"Can't you follow her?" said Jack.
"I don't know where the party is," Marianne said. "A friend dropped me off here, and she's gone off to her own party. I deliberately didn't bring my purse, because I have nowhere to put it. I was going to tuck my key in my bra, but I'm not wearing one, and I have no money for a taxi." She looked close to tears.
Jack stood back. "Come in, Marianne. We'll sort something out."
"Thanks, Mr. McInally. My roommate, Sally, she's going to a party, too, but she might not have left yet. She won't be back until midnight."
"There's the phone, Marianne. See if she's still there."
"Thanks." She dialled, waited, made a face, dialled again, waited, put the phone down. "She must have left. All I'm getting is the recorder."
"Let me see if I have this straight. You have no key, no money, and no way of getting back into your apartment before midnight. Is that about right?"
"Dead on, Mr. McInally." She made a face. "Now what?"
"Have you eaten, or were you planning to eat at this party?"
"At the party."
"I was just about to get myself something. Would you care to join me?" Jack shrugged. "I'm no gourmet cook, but I think I can promise you something edible."
"I am."
"What?"
"A gourmet cook. Partly why I'm in first year law with Kelly at the age of twenty-four. Daddy sent me to a Swiss finishing school. I hated it, but they taught me to cook. What have we got?"
Jack blinked. We? He smiled to himself. He liked it! "Take your cloak off, Marianne."
She flushed. "My outfit was intended for a 'Witches and Warlocks' party, Mr. McInally. It's a little revealing."
"I've been on the force for twenty years, Marianne. I doubt I can be surprised."
"Mari. Call me Mari. Please?" She smiled.
"Only if you'll call me Jack."
"Okay - Jack."
"Okay - Mari. Your cloak?"
Flushing again, she loosened the fastening at her throat and took off the cloak. Jack blinked, flushing himself. Marianne - Mari - was stunning. Black stockings covered her long legs, held up by red, silk garters. Long, lovely legs. A low-cut, one-piece outfit, in a rich, dark, red, almost the colour of her hair, clad her torso, strapless, clinging. Around her hips she had draped some black velvet cloth to form a skirt, barely covering her crotch, or her bottom. A black velvet choker around her throat completed her outfit.
"Ver - ," Jack began, stopping to clear his throat. "Very, um, nice."
"You like it? The main part," she gestured to her torso, "was my aunt's. She used to be a bunny girl. I took the cotton tail off and added the skirt."
"You make it look very nice," said Jack.
"Isn't that the wrong way round?" Mari said, puzzled.
"I don't think so," said Jack. "It's your figure inside it, so I reckon it's you making the outfit look good." He grimaced. "I don't think it's a very practical outfit for cooking in, or sitting around until midnight, do you?"
