Дэвид Балдаччи - One Good Deed

“You do look sharp,” she said, running her hand along his lapel and then clutching his tie and pulling on it for good measure, bending him down to near her height. “With a little work you might be approaching dreamboat status. Sort of like Cary Grant and Clark Gable all rolled into one.”

“You’re nice on the eyes too,” he said appreciatively. “Prettier than any gal I’ve seen at the movies.”

“Glad we got all that out of the way. But don’t say that in front of Hank. He’s a jealous man. And that knife isn’t the only weapon he carries.”

“Yeah, I saw his belly gun up close and personal today. But his wife doesn’t seem to be the jealous type. In fact, she doesn’t seem to give a whit.”

As they walked out into the fading light and headed down the street, Jackie said, “Oh, Marjorie gives a whit, trust me.”

“Care to explain?”

“Not really. And I’m not sure you’re set up to understand even if I did.”

They slid into a shallow booth with red vinyl seats at the Checkered Past.

Jackie ordered a gin and tonic with a twist of lime.

Archer went with a ginger ale.

She looked at him oddly. “You lost your thirst or are you waiting to tell them the rest of the ingredients for a highball? They do a nice Seven and Seven here in case you’re interested.”

“No, just trying to watch my p’s and q’s.”

“How is not drinking doing that?”

“If I get sauced, I might say or do something with you I might regret.”

“Hell, Archer, that’s half the fun.”

She sipped her drink when it came, while he chugged his.

“So, Marjorie?” began Archer.

“What about her?”

“She knows about you and Hank.”

“I know she does.”

“You’re really not going to enlighten me, then?”

She took off her pillbox and set it on the table next to her place setting. “And why exactly do you feel the need to be enlightened?”

“I don’t like not knowing things. Gets under my skin.”

“That’s a good attribute, but it doesn’t persuade me. I hear you talked to Lucas Tuttle.”

“You mean your father , yeah, I did.”

She shrugged. “And what did the old gasbag say?”

“Why ask me? Pittleman must’ve told you, since I told him.”

“I’m not going back home, Archer, if that’s what you want to know.”

“Okay. But your father truly seems to miss you.”

She looked at her menu. “What’re you in the mood for?”

“Steak and potatoes, coffee, black. Piece of the cobbler to finish.”

She glanced up at him. “You sound certain about that and you haven’t even looked at the menu.”

“I am sure.”

“You’ve eaten here before?”

“Last night.”

“What’d you have?”

“Same as what I just said.”

“You don’t like variety?”

“Two things in a row is variety, of a sort.”

“You’d make an intriguing study, Archer.”

“Of what kind?”

She pulled out a pack of Chesterfields and offered him one, which he took. She lit his with her metal lighter, cupping her gloved hand around his, and then did the same for herself. Jackie blew out a cloud of smoke and said, “Hell, just about any kind of study.”

He turned his head and released smoke from his nostrils. With all the other tables similarly engaged, the restaurant looked like it might be on fire.

“I heard your mother died in an accident. I’m truly sorry about that.”

She tapped ash into the chromium ashtray and positioned her elbow on the table so that her cigarette pointed to the ceiling like she was putting up her hand to swear an oath; her flippant expression was gone. “Who told you? Surely not my father.”

“Lady named Desiree.”

She nodded. “Desiree Lankford.”

“Efficient-looking woman.”

“She is very efficient.”

She finished her cigarette early and ground it out in the chromium ashtray.

“Your daddy said he had the money to pay back the debt, only he won’t so long as you’re with Pittleman.”

“Then I guess you’re going to have to take the Cadillac, like Hank told you to in the first place. You need to keep up, Archer. Hank doesn’t suffer fools gladly.”

“And get shot for my troubles?”

“Did my father answer the door with the Remington, then?”

“Does he usually?”

“My father’s not a trusting man.”

“Yeah, it was pointed at all parts of me that I find important and necessary.”

“Well, why would he point at the unnecessary ones? You say he had the money?”

“What he told me. Why?”

“Just wondering. What’s your plan now?”

“Why?”

“I’ll tell you this. Hank isn’t happy you already spent his money without getting his collateral.” She once more eyed his new clothes.

“Is that why you sought me out? You sort of his spy? I won’t hold it against you. A gal’s got to do what a gal’s got to do.”

“I have better things to do with my time, Archer, than spy on folks. I ‘sought’ you out because you’re new in town and I thought you might like some companionship.”

“Okay, sorry about that. As to the plan, I’ll think of something. Always do.”

“I like a man with confidence in himself. I just hope yours isn’t misplaced, because it won’t turn out well for you.”

“I know about the Remington now.”

“Not talking about that. I know for a fact that Hank was angry when the other men came back empty-handed. And he took it out on them, for sure.”

“You don’t think I can hold my own with Pittleman?”

“It’s not Hank you have to worry about. He employs a lot of men. And some of them are even bigger and stronger than you.” She added sweetly, “And I suspect that most of them aren’t nearly as nice as you are.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“Don’t say I never gave you anything. Hey, where are you coming in from? You said seven hours from the east?”

“Just wandering. Have been for a while.”

“You mentioned you did two years of college?”

“That’s right.”

“Where?”

“Not anywhere near here.”

“Why didn’t you finish?”

“Little thing called a world war came calling and interrupted my studies.”

“Right, you said you fought.”

“Every man my age did unless they had bad eyes, bad feet, or a bum ticker.”

“I hear the sons of some rich or influential men didn’t have to suit up.”

“Well, my old man wasn’t rich or influential, and, anyway, I volunteered.”

“Why?”

“Do my part, why else?”

“Were you brave?”

“More lucky than brave, probably.”

“Why don’t I believe that?”

“Believe what you will.”

They ordered their food when the waitress came over.

“Steak and potatoes for you, too?” he said after Jackie finished her dinner request and the waitress had gone off.

She gave a surprised Archer a coy smile. “I like variety as much as the next person.”

“You left home right after your mom died?”

“Why do you care about that?” she said with a frown.

“I’m just a curious soul, always have been.”

“Well, it’s my business, not yours. So tell your curiosity to scram.”

Archer looked around the dining room, and his gaze alighted and held on Ernestine Crabtree, who was eating her dinner in a far corner of the restaurant. She had a book next to her and a pad of paper in front of her and was writing something down with a pen.

“What is it?” asked Jackie, glancing that way. “You know her?”

“Just looking around, seeing what’s what.”

“Eye for the ladies, Archer? Don’t be afraid to confess it.”