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Authors: Wade Miller

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BOOK: Kitten with a whip
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"I'm comfortable," he said, although he could feel the dripping heat in his armpits and aroimd the waistband of ms trousers.

"Who's talking about comfortable? Let's he down and talk this over." She giggled. "That's an old joke." Grinning wickedly, she boimced herself on the bed a couple of times, not caring what happened to her skirt. "See, the springs don't squeak, if that's what's bugging you."

He looked at her exposed neat thighs and shrugged. "Is that the limit of your brain, Iddr Always wanting to get hopped up on something?"

"Now look here, buster!" Sne sat up, irate. "Last night you weren't such a brainhead that you didn't—"

^Forget it."

Jody bit her Hps. "Oh, let's not fi^t, David. I won't tease you any more, huh? And well just talk, about us?"

"What about us, then?"

"Well," she began, squirming around on the bed until she was in a laieeling position. Her yellowish eyes fixed on his with childish intensity. *1 figure I can start a whole new life here in Mexico if I work it right. Not sticking around this town, though. Tijuana's a dump. I mean, it just doesn't have enougn room for a character my size, you know? Besides, this close to the border, the Mex cops know about me from what happened in San Diego, or some old buddy might tip them just for the heU of it. You can't trust people, David."

He waited, not commenting, wondering how she figured she deserved trust.

"Sit down here with me. You give me hives just standing there." He didn't obey but that didn't stop her talking. "You ever been to Mexico City?"

"No. I hear it's a nice place."

"Um. Did you know they make movies there, lots of

them? And TV shows, too. Some old guy I was out with told me once. Oh, diat's the place for mel They go for blondes, all these dark types do. With a couple breaks, whether I know the language or not, they'd oe begging me to be in their pictures down there. They just can't keep away from blondes because they're all so dark, you laiow? I^o time at all, 111 be a big star and have a penthouse at that hotel whafs-its-name and when I go to the bullfights the matadorll dedicate the bull to me. That's what they do, actuallyl" She sucked in a big breath excitedly. 'Wouldn't that be smoky, David? And you could be my manager."

He had been listening carefully, with some apprehension, to learn in what part she had cast him in this irresponsible fantasy, but now he nearly laughed in her face. "Good God, Jodyl Don't you notice a few things wrong with that idear You're a couple thousand miles from Mexico City and my money's not going to get you very far. And, above all, I'm certainly not going along witn you."

"We got the car," she insisted eagerly. "And enough money to get started. In the morning you can go downtown and pick up a couple tourist cards. It blows real easy."

"Maybe for you, kid. But I've already got what I want, a family and a home and a good job, and I'm not leaving any of them." He held up a hand as her mouth opened to argue with him. "No, Jody. Shut up and don't overplay what you've got. You've made me scared of losing what I have. I'm stUl scared. That's the only reason I'm here. But tonight is the end of the hne, because your way I'd lose everything anyhow. You've got to get that through your head."

He watched for the anger to fire up her face but it didn't come. Instead, she turned reproachful. "You think I don't appreciate everything you've done."

"Don't try the sympathy bit. I'm onto that one."

"But we could whip up a lot of fun together, David. You know how nice I am when you give me a chance." She studied his unrelenting expression and then sighed. "All right, just give me a chance to work out something else."

David glanced at his watch. He still had a few night hours before he had to meet Virginia's plane.

Jody rubbed her forehead, as if perplexed that a fresh idea wouldn't come. "I don't know about you but I'm frying for a drink."

"I thought you were afraid of being recognized by some old buddy."

"I didn't mean go out to a bar. I meant you go out and get us a botue and we can cool off right here. This heat stuffs up my head until I can't think straight."

His first inclination was to refuse because he fancied he saw behind her suggestion some sort of scheme to get him drunk again. Then he realized that, whatever Jody*s devious reasoning, she had accidentally handed over to him the perfect opportunity to run away. She had thought too far ahead of herself; whatever new trick she was concocting, she*d forgotten the basic fundamental of their situation—keep him by her side. He pretended to consider for a moment, praying that his eagerness wouldn't be betrayed by his voice. "Yeah, I guess I could do that, all right."

She jumped off the bed nappHy and hugged him tight. "Oh, David, hurry back. You know how I hate to be alone. Especially now, when I'm beginning to think we got something going for us, together."

"Just keep it practical, Jody," he said. "I'm sure we can come up wim something sensible."

She closed the door behind him. As he hurried out to the station wagon, he glanced back at the lighted windows of Cabin Three. She wasn't even watching him. His jumble of hopes sang one reham—you've got a surprise coming, young lady. Ten minutes from now and ril be through the border gates on my way home, safe home where Til never see or hear of you again, God willing.

His left hand performed its usual automatic gesture, pulling open the car door, plunging into his left hand coat pocket for the car keys. He stopped and felt in the right hand coat pocket. Still no keys. Then he began to swear bitterly, mostly at what a sucker he had been. No wonder she hadn't bothered to watch him leave. No wonder die had hugged him good-bye—so

she could pick his pocket of the car keys and keep him on his invisible chain. Sure, he could just keep going; there were taxis that would take him on his journey. But Jody would have the car. How could he explain that to the police and the insurance company—and to Virginia?

He knew that there was a method of starting the engine without a key, something about crossing certain wires, but he had never attempted it. And now, in the dark and pressed for time, he couldn't afford to experiment and perhaps put the car out of commission entirely.

He glared savagely at the innocent lights of Cabin Three. Okay, he diought, but the night isnt over yet. She wants a drink, she II get a drink—a damn good and strong one that'll knock her hack on her can, and the minute she starts getting sleepy, the minute she closes those cat eyes . . .

He began to walk downtown, his stride quick with purpose. He passed the jai alai fronton and Avenida Revolucion became brighter with night life. He shoved grimly through the sidewalk throngs, knots of strolling Americans gazing into open front shops or inspecting the nude photos in front of the nightclubs. Gay music blaring from shadowy doorways gave a rhythm to his marching but David didn't pay any attention to it or to the curbside peddlers who beseeched him to look over their merchandise.

He sighted a Uquor store and turned into it. "! want a bottle," he told the Mexican clerk, a boy younger than Jody. "Something with a kick. Whisky."

The boy nodded solemnly and, since David hadn't mentioned price, got down a decanter from the more expensive section. David examined the label. The brand name meant nothing to him but it claimed the contents to be 100 proof bond. He didn't beHeve that labels were necessarily trustworthy on this side of the border but he figured that he was buying enough raw alcohol to serve his purpose. He put down the money and left with the bottle. He didnt wait to have it wrapped. He was in a hurry.

As he hastened out of the store, he bumped squarely

into a cluster of Americans streaming out of the adjoining cabaret. He muttered, "Sorry/' kept his head down and tried to push on. A powerful hand caught his arm, holding him fast.

"Why the mad rushP" inquired a famihar voice. "By God, let's watch our manners, huh, gringo?"

Sid Wright had hold of him, grinning cheerfully at the meeting. Beside Sid stood a figure of cool amusement—his wife, Helen.

Chapter Fifteen

His brain registered only nonsense in that first instant of the encounter, useless unhelpful observances: the fact Sid was perspiring profusely, wearing the same plaid suit as last night, the double-breasted coat as agape as his loosely grinning mouth. Helen's bright yellow frock, immaculate, sleeveless—how limp her pale boneless arms looked—the way her wedding ring flashed boldly under the scarlet neon, the piercing yet studious glint of her eyes as if she longed to expose him. Utter nonsense that took up no time at all but seemed interminable. Nobody coidd have noticed anything because he spoke immediately and cordially, saying, "I didn't see it was you. Hil" and his voice sounded all right.

"You stick to that story, boy," said Sid. "Hey, I want you to meet some other friends of ours." Another couple behind him edged forward uncertainly, smiling tentatively, wanting to be liked. "Johnny and Edna—I mean, Edna and Jcmnny, this is Dave."

He shook hands with them, a nice-looking pair about his own age with a Texas tang to their speedi. He never did catch their last name. In the midst of the smaU talk that went with introductions he sensed that Helen was regarding the naked bottle in his hand.

He spoke to her directly with some notion of diverting her suspicions. "Yeah, I guess you're kind of surprised, running into me down here tonight."

y. little. But it's fun."

"I certainly didn't expect to run into you, either. What happened? You surely didn't stay over, did you?"

"No. We didn't come last night, after all. After you backed out, we called Johnny and Edna and they talked us into making it tonight instead. So here we are, allegedly hving it up." Her smile quirked chaUengingly. "Now let's hear from you."

'Watch it, buddyl" Sid snarled at somebody in the

Eassing crowd who had jostled him. To his own group, e complained, *AVhat are we doing standing here on the sidewalk with our bare faces hanging out? We need a lube job." He peered into Davids face, his breath saccharine with gin, his grip on David's arm clamping painfully tight. "You know, like the gorgeous blonde hitchhiker said to the lush at the wheel? You heard it yet?"

'*Yes," Helen said softly.

"Hell, I'd like to have a drink with you, you know that." David tried gently to disengage his arm. "But I'm on my way home."

Helen said nothing but she glanced overtly at the bottle again and raised her plucked eyebrows.

Sid shook David's arm insistently. "This gorgeous babe, this drunk who was driving. Listenl You know what she said to him? She said, *You want a screw, driver?*" Sid laughed, looking around at the others. David, grinning forcibly, gave a couple of grunts that passed for amusement and so did Jommy. Edna worked up a puzzled smile while blushing. "Screwdriver," explained Sid. "That's a drink, honey."

Helen said, "Gk)d knows we need something to wash the taste out of our mouths."

Sid turned on her, scowling. "Why don't you tell them then, you be funny? Always running things downl"

Helen ignored him. "You wiU tag along with us, won't you, Dave?"

"No, seriously." He pictured Jody waiting restlessly back at the motel. 'Tomorrow's a big day. Got to meet Virginia on the five-ten plane."

Sid was just dnmk enough to want to mix into any argument at hand, pathetically eager to share his artificial glow but quick to take offense if rebuffed. So he was glowering at David next. "What you after, Dave-trying to make everybody feel cheap? Turns us down last night 'cause you got a headache or a load on or something. Turns us down tonight 'cause you're in some big goddam hurry. We second class citizens to you, hiHi? Just because I never finished high school is no—"

"For crying out loud, Sid, nothing like that. What a silly-ass way to—"

"Well, prove it! That's all I ask is that you prove it. We're old friends, right? Then what's it iiurt to have a drink with us?"

David hesitated, trying to weigh his choices quickly but carefully, knowing his logic was in a jumble and that pieces were drofiping on the floor and he was too butterfingered to pick them up. Jody, in the first place— what might she do if he was gone too long to suit her? She might even come looking tor him. Sid, in the second place—he was making an issue of the matter and there was more than a question of friendship involved. Sid's recollection might well be obliterated Tby his hangover tomorrow or, if not^ he'd be just as likely to let the whole thing blow over. But not Helen; Helen would remember. He was already afraid of the red-headed woman's perception, as if she were a surrogate Virginia. It would probably be smarter to gamble a little time rather than feed her suspicions. "OKay, okay, Sid. Just stop breaking my arm, huh?" David did his best to sound nearty about a matter of no consequence. "If I have to buy you a drink to show you we're the best handball doubles in town, well, I guess that's just my tough luck."

jThat's my boyl" Sid let loose of his arm and slapped him happily on the shoulder. "How about that dive across me street? They got a floor show, look at them big posters. Hot damn, women with figuresi"

David saw Helen bite her Hp; there was some blurred reflection on her in Sid's remark.

They crossed Avenida Revoludon in the middle of the block, dodging the herd of taxis that honked indignantly at them. They got past the shills on the sidewalk and entered the nigntclub. It was between shows and relatively empty, the jazz combo on the bandstand playing for dancing with a labored beat. Half a dozen unoccupied waiters hmried toward them but Sid grandly waved all but one away and commandeered a ringside table. David put his bottle under his chair and glanced at his wristwatch. Eleven-thirty; he had been gone nearly a half-hour. It was about time Jody would start wonaering.

The drinks came and Sid immediately ordered another

round, overriding David's protest. *Two of these things only add up to one real drink, anyway. Look at me. I been belting them back all ni^t."

"Yes, look at him, everyone," Helen suggested.

"Hear that? See why I collect empty glassesr^ asked Sid.

"Don't go blaming me," his wife said, and Sid belched for her benefit.

BOOK: Kitten with a whip
2.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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