Elmore Leonard - Out of Sight

But when she came back to the bed and stood naked looking down at him, he believed he could get her back.

She said, "I want you to know something. I wasn't looking for just a fuck, if that's what you're thinking?"

"Why are you mad?"

"Or I did it for some kind of kinky thrill. Score with a bank robber the way some women go for rough trade."

"What about my motive?" Foley said.

"Now I can say I fucked a U.S. marshal. You think I will?"

She hesitated.

"I don't know."

"Come to bed."

He raised the covers and she stood there making up her mind before finally slipping into bed and his arms took her in.

He said, "I know of a guy-his wife held him down, wouldn't let him go out with the guys, wouldn't give him any money-he was a drunk. So he robbed a bank to get back at her, a bank where he was known and he'd be sure to get caught. The wife was humiliated and the guy was happy. He did fifty-four months, came out, patched things up with his wife and robbed the same bank all over again. Another guy, he goes in the bank holding a bottle he says is nitroglycerin. He scores some cash off a teller, he's on his way out when he drops the bottle. It shatters on the tile floor, he slips in the stuff, cracks his head and they've got him. The nitro was canola oil. I know more fucked-up bank robbers than ones that know what they're doing. I doubt one in ten can tell a dye pack when he sees one. Guys like-remember that movie, Woody Alien robs the bank?"

"Take the Money and Run."

"He hands the teller the note, she looks at it and says, "You have a gub? What's a gub?" That's par, because most bank robbers are fucking morons. You've heard some of the nicknames they get? The B.O. bandit, the Chubby Cheeks bandit, Mumbles, the Laurel and Hardy bandits? A guy they call Mr. Pleats? Another one, the Sheik, guy wears something that looks like a turban? The Vaulter? Guy always jumped the counter for no reason. Robby Hood?"

She said, "What were you known as?"

"I don't think I had a nickname. But the point I'm making: to go to bed with a bank robber so you can say you did, you'd have to be as dumb as they are. I know you're not dumb, I know you're not looking for lanky thrills, as you say. So why would I think that? Why would you think I might think that?"

She said, "You're not dumb."

"You can't do three falls," Foley said, "and think you have much of a brain." He waited a few moments, lying there holding her, before he said, "If you get serious on me, it's over. You have to stop thinking."

Now Karen took time, holding on to him. She said, "I don't want to lose you."

"That's part of the feeling we both have. It's how we got here.

But there's nothing we can do-you know that. You're not gonna give up the life you have and it's way too late for me. I couldn't if I wanted to. Change my name and look for work? You say 'work' to a con he'll go out the window, not even bothering to see what floor he's on. Look, we knew going in," Foley said, "when the time's up, it's up. I say that knowing I love you with all my heart, I sincerely do."

Her face came up to his; they began to kiss and touch again, Foley with a tender feeling he had never experienced before.

Looking at her eyes he thought maybe she was crying or was about to.

She said, "I can't go with you." She kissed him again, and in a voice so quiet he could barely hear her she said, "I want to know what's gonna happen."

"You know," Foley said.

When Karen woke up, lying on her side facing the bathroom, she didn't open her eyes right away. She wanted to; she wanted to look at the radio clock next to the bed and she wanted to turn her body enough to reach with her hand and, if he was there, touch him. As long as she didn't open her eyes or move he was still there. She could take her time, creep up on him and they'd make love again and she would hear his name coming out of her in the dark. So she lay there with the stale taste of whiskey in her mouth. All that was left. Until she said, Oh, for Christ sake, grow up.

And opened her eyes.

It was ten-fifteen. The bathroom door was open, the light off.

She rolled to her back and turned her head. His side of the bed was empty; the room silent, the windows dark. She remembered looking at herself in the bathroom mirror and coming out to say things that were so fucking stupid now, hearing herself, her tone, and remembered him saying, "Why are you mad?" And later saying, "If you get serious on me, it's over." And that's what she did, became emotional and blew it because she was thinking too much, wanting to know how it would end.

She thought, Well, now you know. And got out of bed.

Karen walked out to the sitting room with a sense of expectation. Foley was gone, but maybe he'd left a note. She looked around, at the desk, the coffee table. The newspaper photo he'd laid there was gone. But something wrapped in a napkin was lying by the half-empty bottle and the ice bucket.

She picked it up and knew what it was as she unfolded the napkin.

Her Sig Sauer.38.

Drop you off," Buddy said, "give the valet guy the car, Glenn and a black kid by the name of Kenneth are waiting in the lobby. This is three o'clock in the afternoon, the snow's coming down, they want us to take a ride with them. I said you were buying a pair of shoes, and if they want to go look for you over there, good luck. We come out, White Boy's waiting in the car.

What time did you get back?"

"About ten."

"It took you, what, seven hours to buy a pair of shoes?"

Wednesday morning now, Buddy had come to Foley's room frowning, wondering where he'd been.

"I saw Karen Sisco," Foley said.

"She's staying at the Westin."

Buddy didn't say anything right away. First he sat down at the table to look at Foley across his room service tray, Foley having the Continental breakfast in his socks and underwear, a bottle of Jim Beam close by.

"And she saw you?"

"Yes, she did."

Buddy said, "Oh, my," and watched Foley pour a shot of Beam into his coffee.

"Well, we're sure casual about it, aren't we? You talk to her?"

Foley nodded.

"Buy her a drink?"

"We had a few."

"She knew who you were."

Foley nodded again, sipped his coffee and raised the cup.

"You want some? You can use the glass in the bathroom."

Buddy shook his head.

"Have a nice visit and then you left?"

Buddy waited but didn't get an answer, Foley biting into some land of Danish.

"How's that work, a wanted felon socializing with a U.S. marshal?"

Foley said, "You know how I felt about her." He put his cup down.

"The night I came out, we're in the trees by the highway, she's in Glenn's car? You kept asking why I wanted to bring her along. I said I just wanted to talk to her. Well, it turns out she wanted to talk to me, too, and that's what we did."

Buddy said, "Did you give her a jump? If you did I might begin to understand where your head's at. I know the attraction pussy can hold for a man. What I can't imagine is risking your life over it, though I know it's done."

"It wasn't about getting laid," Foley said.

"You told me out on the highway it was too late, you know, to have a regular life.

I knew that. I still wanted to know what might Ve happened if things were different."

"You find out?"

Foley said" Yeah I did," not sounding too happy about it.

But what did that mean? He was disappointed by what he found? Or was sorry now he'd robbed all those banks?

Don't ask, Buddy thought. He said, "What happens now?"

"We're back where we were."

"You don't want to move on?"

Foley sipped his laced coffee. He said, "If you want to, I'll understand, but I'm staying."

"Well, shit," Buddy said, "if you aren't worried-a big sensible fella like you… I think we ought to move to a different hotel, though, not be so close."