Max Collins - The last quarry

“Swell.” I rose. “I’m going to call her at the library.”

“Okay.” She watched me go to the kitchen’s wall phone. “You want privacy?”

“No.”

The library was on a short list of numbers posted by the phone (Rick’s had a line through it; mine at the motel was added on) and I dialed.

“Homewood Public Library,” Janet’s voice said pleasantly. “Help Desk, this is Ms. Wright, how may I help you?”

“Like you did last night,” I said, “is just fine.”

Her voice warmed up. “Hi, Jack.”

“Listen,” I said lightly. “Your sister dropped by the apartment, and we’re getting along famously.”

“Oh! Completely forgot about Jules! I should’ve mentioned her, Jack, sorry…but she didn’t say when exactly she was coming. She’s kind of a…you know, free spirit.”

I glanced over at Julie. She was standing next to the kitchen table, now, slipping out of the t-shirt. She tossed it on the table and stood there grinning at me, fists Superman-style on her hips, the nice little pierced-nippled breasts bare and perky and proud.

My dick twitched.

“Free spirit, huh?” I said to the girl’s sister. “I noticed…How about after work the three of us meet for a drink, grab a bite together?”

“Great! I’ll go straight to Sneaky Pete’s, unless you’re sick of it.”

“No, that’s fine. See you there.”

We exchanged ’byes, I hung up, and the little topless punkette was right there, right on me, wrapping her arms around me, pushing me to the wall, cornering me like she had at Harry and Louis’s cabin.

“I’m not on the rag now,” she said with a wicked smile and a single arched eyebrow. “You finally ready for that reward?”

I put my hands on her hips, held her away from me at arm’s length, and took a long, leering look at her and she grinned, pleased with herself.

Then I pushed her away. “Get your shirt on before your nipple rings rust.”

She backed off and appraised me, frowning; now I finally could see the resemblance between the sisters-the tips of Julie’s breasts were long, too.

“Turning me down again, Quarry?”

“I seem to be.”

I wasn’t sure if that had been a test or if she was just a little cockhound.

Maybe the former, because after she slipped the black t-shirt on, she winked at me and said, “Okay. Okay. Maybe you really do like my big sis.”

Monday night at Sneaky Pete’s was slow, the singles crowd modest and the laughter and conversation lessened, which only made the country western schlock on the jukebox all the more noticeable. I did my best to control the situation by plowing quarters in and selecting the Patsy Cline, Hank Williams and Willie Nelson numbers, trying to hold the crap at bay.

I had thought Janet chose the bar because it had somehow become “our” place; but I soon realized she’d made the choice to accommodate her sister, who drank more than she ate. Our burgers hadn’t even arrived yet, and Julie was already on her second Scotch rocks.

Janet was on my side of the booth, looking fondly at her sister and me and back again, working a little too hard to get a family vibe going.

“So,” she asked, “you two already know each other? How is that possible?”

Julie shrugged, glugged Scotch, and said, “He got me out of a jam, a while back.”

Janet cocked her head, eyes flicking from her sister to me to her sister. “What kind of jam, Jules?”

Julie shrugged again. “Some assholes kidnapped me.”

At that Janet laughed. Then, studying the dark-haired, nose-pierced girl, asked, “You’re…not kidding, are you?”

Julie shook her head. “No. Some assholes grabbed me to squeeze ransom money out of Daddy. Our, uh, mutual friend Jack, here, got me away from the bad guys. You, uh…probably don’t want to hear the details. Wasn’t strictly legal. Jack, she doesn’t want to hear the details, does she?”

“No,” I said.

Janet looked from Julie to me. Her expression tried for trusting and came off wary. “Jack…you don’t…you don’t work for my father, do you?”

“Yes,” I said.

The wary expression turned withering, and her nostrils flared, and her teeth were bared when she said, “Let me out,” and tried to rise and push by me.

But she was sitting on the inside of the booth and I wouldn’t let her, gripping her wrist, making her eyes meet mine.

“Hear me out,” I said.

“Why should I?”

“So you’ll know what’s going on, and can make an informed decision.”

Her upper lip curled back. “Don’t patronize me!”

Across the way Julie was chewing ice from her drink, faintly disgusted. “Oh, brother, Sis…”

“Hear me out,” I said, “and I’ll let you out.”

Still half up, Janet drew in a deep breath, exhaled melodramatically, and settled back in the booth, getting as far away from me as she could, short of knocking a hole through the wall.

Janet folded her arms and looked straight ahead. “My father is a monster. Anybody who does his bidding-”

Julie laughed and said, “Does his bidding! Jesus, library lady, cut the guy a break.”

The older sister-without looking at me-said, “All right. I’ll give you one minute, Jack, and then you either let me out of this booth or I start screaming.”

Julie craned her neck out of the booth. “Can I get another Scotch rocks, please? Thank you…”

I said to Janet, “Your father hired me to keep an eye on you.”

She couldn’t help herself; she had to look at me. “Why, in heaven’s name?”

“He didn’t say.”

“Is that why…you…with Rick…?”

I was halfway turned in the booth, to face her, and I did my best to keep my words simple, my tone earnest. “I was just supposed to keep track of you. But when that asshole got physical, I-”

“Blew your cover?” she asked bitterly.

“Or,” Julie said with a nasty little smile, “maybe climbed under yours, huh, Sis?”

“You be quiet,” Janet said.

“You asked about the gun,” I said. “This is why.”

She was shaking her head, grappling with all this. “You’re a, a what…bodyguard? Why would he do that? Why would my father hire someone to protect me? He doesn’t care enough about me to-”

“I’ve come to that same opinion,” I said. “Which is why I think you may be at risk.”

Janet didn’t seem to hear my last statement, asking, “What…what kind of work do you generally do for my father?”

I shrugged. “Troubleshooter.”

“Well…that’s certainly vague.”

“Right.”

“I…I really should hate you.”

“Probably.”

Her chin started quivering and her eyes were getting moist. “You… goddamn you. Goddamn me — I let you into my life.”

I nodded. “I know the feeling-I let you into mine.”

We looked at each other…

…and suddenly it was fine between us.

Or I was pretty sure it was, and held my hand out.

She gave me her hand and I squeezed it, and Julie, said, “I’m gonna need way more Scotch…”

Our food came soon, and neither Janet nor I did much more than nibble at it. Julie ate about half of hers, but was downing the booze like a pro.

“What did you mean,” Janet said, pushing her plate away, “I’m at…risk?”

I pushed my plate away, too. “You’re coming into a lot of money, soon, aren’t you?”

“Yes…”

Julie, chewing cheeseburger, said, “And if you flat-line, sister dear, guess who gets the gold?”

Janet frowned and then it turned into a smile of disbelief. “Oh, come on…you can’t think…our own father? Even he wouldn’t… would he?”

“He would,” I said. “It’s…a problem.”