Louise couldn’t have her newfound friend feeling left out. “Gilda, come join us,” she called.
“I got things to do out here,” Gilda called back from the kitchen.
No, she didn’t. The only thing she had to do was help Louise, and Louise didn’t need help at the moment.
“Maybe she wants to give us some privacy,” Martin suggested.
“We don’t need privacy,” Louise said. “Will you go bring her back?”
Martin didn’t frown at her request, but he didn’t smile, either. And when he said, “Okay,” he sounded resigned. It was a little out of character for him, especially when he’d been more than happy to settle in and enjoy the fun the night before.
A moment later he was back with Gilda in tow.
“Now, let’s sample those doughnuts,” said Louise.
And so the three of them sat together eating doughnuts, drinking iced tea, and visiting. Actually, it was mostly Louise and Gilda visiting with Martin nodding agreement when called for. He wound up staying for lunch.
As they ate, the subject of Louise’s book came up. “Have you started it yet?” Martin asked.
“I’m still mulling over ideas,” Louise said. “But so far nothing comes to mind.”
“Base it on something in real life, like the freezer husband,” Gilda advised.
“Freezer husband?” Martin repeated, his eyebrows flying up.
“The man in Los Angeles who killed his wife, then cut her up and stuck her in the freezer,” Louise clarified. “The one I told you about the other night. Remember?”
“Yes, and I can see why I forgot it,” he said.
“You could write about something like that,” Gilda said. “You know, the man who looked so nice, who nobody suspected. I love characters like that. I read a Dean Koontz book years ago. Oh, my gosh! It started with this happy couple in the woods hiking. They found an old ranger tower and climbed up it. One minute they’re talking about how high up it is and the next—boom!—he pushes her off.”
Martin frowned. “That sounds preposterous.”
“This from the man who loves Jack Reacher,” Louise teased.
“You never know about people,” Gilda said. “Pressure builds and builds and then, what seems like out of the blue, they snap. But it’s never really out of the blue. Write about someone like that.”
“A man on a cruise,” Louise said thoughtfully. “He’s there with his wife and he suddenly snaps.”
“What about the woman? Maybe she snaps,” Martin suggested.
“Not as believable. Men are much more violent,” said Gilda. “Everyone knows that.” Martin didn’t look convinced, so she continued, “All the best serial killers are men.”
Martin scratched his chin. “Well.”
“You all have too much testosterone,” Gilda informed him.
“I don’t,” Martin insisted, then looked like he regretted saying that.
Louise giggled. “We know what you mean. I’m not sure I want to write something really grisly.”
“So don’t have him cut her up,” said Gilda.
“Inspiration will come,” Martin assured Louise.
Who knew? Maybe from the goings-on next door.
By the time they’d finished brainstorming, Louise was poopedand ready to spread out on her bed, so Martin took his leave and leashed up Darling for a walk.
