So you worked for the war industry but came to your senses!” [Margy Van Alstyne] darted a glance at her son. “What rank were you?”“I was a captain when I resigned.” [Clare]“Ha!” Margy Van Alstyne’s elbow caught Russ in the solar plexus. “She outranks you, son! Finally, a woman who can boss you around!”“Every woman in my life bosses me around,” he muttered, rubbing his stomach.

Can you tell me what happened, um...” What was he supposed to call her? “Mother?”“I go by Reverend, Chief. Ms. is fine, too.”“Oh. Sorry. I never met a woman priest before.”“We’re just like the men priests, except we’re willing to pull over and ask directions.

Russ told Harlene to patch Mark through to Clare’s if and when he turned up anything.“I’d love to know how you managed to work Reverend Fergusson into this one,” Harlene said.“Reverend Fergusson manages to work herself into these things all on her own,” he said. “She doesn’t need any pushing from me.

You gonna be okay with that idiot car of yours? ...”“I’ve got AAA. They’ll be here. Eventually.”...“Well, if they don’t show, give the station a call and I’ll drive over and jump you.” There was a sort of strangled non-noise. “Jump your car. Jump-start it. The cruisers have incredible batteries.”She started laughing. “Is that a Freudian slip, or are you just happy to see me?