Free Whom Gods Destroy by Clifton Adams Page B

of hurting you. I've never been very particular about hurting people before. And you were cool and clean and alive. I don't know how to say it, but I knew you were what I wanted.”
    “Did I remind you of—someone else?”
    “No. It wasn't that.”
    But that wasn't the truth; I realized it the moment I said it. Somewhere in the cellar of my mind I could see Lola—cool, clean, alive, as she had been that night so long ago. I began to wind up again and I think Vida felt it. But if she did, she said nothing about it. After a while the feeling went away and Vida was saying, “I think I'll take that drink now.”
    But before I could get dressed she said, “I've got a confession to make, Roy. Until now I wasn't sure why I came here and tricked you into meeting me. But I know now. I'm afraid I'm falling in love with you, too.”
    It was an awkward thing for both of us. I looked at her, then finished tying my shoes and went into the kitchenette to get the drinks. When I came back, Vida was sitting cross-legged in the center of the bed, the white robe draped over her shoulders like a cape. Her figure was almost perfect, wasp-like at the waist, flaring at the hips, and tapering into long, smooth legs.
    “Do you want to talk?” she said.
    “Not unless you do something to that robe.”
    She laughed softly and pulled the robe about her like a tent. Most women would have started right in with “What are we going to do now?” But all Vida said was, “Do you want to tell me about your plans, Roy?”
    I knew she didn't mean about us. And I wasn't sure how much I ought to tell her about the other business. At last I said, “Do you know much about how Seaward runs things?”
    “No,” she said evenly. “But I imagine I could find out from Sid.”
    “Could you find out when he's bringing a shipment into the state? I'll need to know just what kind of truck he's using, who's driving, who's riding guard. I'll also have to know what route he takes and approximately the time he hits the state line.”
    She didn't even blink. “I can find out from Sid, but I'll have to do it a little at a time and it may take several days. Men have been killed hijacking whisky trucks. Don't underrate Seaward. He can be hard.” Then she smiled. “You told Sid you could raise the money when you needed it. You can't, can you?”
    It was good to have someone that I didn't have to lie to. “I couldn't raise a penny,” I said. “But all I need is one load of liquor, and Barney Seaward is going to furnish that.” I leaned forward and took Vida's shoulders. “Before I'm through, Vida, I'm going to own this county. I'm going to own it harder, and squeeze more out of it than Barney Seaward ever dreamed was possible. I'm going all the way to the top, Vida, and I'm going to step on a lot of people getting there, but that can't be helped. Will you go with me?”
    She almost whispered, “I guess there's no place for me to go now, except with you. But what about Lola?”
    “What about her?”
    “Every time her name is mentioned you freeze up,” she said. “You get cold and hard and I can see the hate flame up behind your eyes. Do you have to hurt her, Roy? Is that the reason you have to take this risk?”
    I couldn't lie to her. I said, “Yes—I guess that's the reason.”
    6
    VIDA DIDN'T LIKE the idea of hijacking one of Seaward's trucks, and I didn't like it much either, after I started thinking about it. But that was the way it had to be. I couldn't very well break into bootlegging without anything to sell, and I sure couldn't raise the money to buy the stuff.
    The actual job of stealing the whisky was going to be tough, but even at that it would be easier, I figured, than the job of keeping it after I had it. It would almost certainly mean that I'd have to sit on it for a while before doing anything with it, and probably I'd have to move out of Big Prairie County. It wasn't going to look right for a common runner to suddenly turn retailer, and