Free Parrot Blues by Judith Van Gieson

of testosterone stock to sell?” Charlie asked Terrance.
    â€œNot right now I don’t. The company’s just getting off the ground.” Terrance looked around for an ashtray and settled on an empty wastepaper basket.
    â€œWell then, where’s the money comin’ from?”
    â€œI can come up with four. I’m asking you to lend the rest.”
    â€œThousand-dollar bills are still legal tender, but they’re not being printed anymore. If I get them, I’m supposed to turn them over to the Federal Reserve.”
    â€œI know. You lend me two hundred, I’ll come up with the thousand-dollar bills.” Terrance didn’t say where he’d get the bills, but the Indian gambling casinos we have in New Mexico were one possible source. If that didn’t work, there was always Las Vegas. He peered down at the carpet, poked it with his boot and made an unsuccessful stab at humility.
    There was a pause while they studied each other and Charlie considered how much of Terrance’s hide he wanted or how badly he wanted Deborah to be rescued. It was a long pause. “How’s the kidnapper going to access Deborah’s account?” he asked finally.
    â€œHe’s got her ATM card.” Terrance shrugged. “He’ll twist her arm till he gets the PIN.”
    â€œWhat do I get for collateral?”
    â€œMy word.”
    â€œYour word’s not going to satisfy my shareholders.”
    â€œYou only need the money for an hour, Charlie. Your guys can program the machines so that once the two is taken out of one machine, the others shut down.”
    â€œMy systems analyst is a woman.”
    â€œShe can do it then,” Terrance replied.
    â€œShe’s good, but I’m still taking a two hundred thousand risk.”
    â€œWhat risk?”
    â€œWell, like I said, I do have my shareholders to consider. I’ll need some collateral.” Charlie seemed to enjoy tossing around the word shareholders, but my impression was that he ran BankWest exactly as he wanted to run it, by the seat of his pants.
    â€œWhat are we talking?” asked Terrance.
    â€œYour Lochovers.” This was where they’d known the negotiations were heading, but to them the contest was more fun than the goal. “There’s an empty space on my wall needs to be filled up.”
    â€œLooks good empty; sets off what you already have.”
    â€œNo collateral, no deal.”
    â€œAll right. I’ll put up Riverrun.”
    Charlie shook his head, and his hair was spun gold under the overhead light. “That’s an inferior work.”
    â€œBullshit. It’s one of his best.”
    â€œIt’s not enough, Lewellen.”
    â€œWhat do you want?”
    â€œWhat have you got?”
    Terrance paused before he spoke. “ Riverrun, Gila Bend, and Santa Barbara Canyon. ”
    Charlie thought before he answered. “Give me all of them,” he said.
    â€œThat’s highway robbery.”
    â€œThose are my terms,” Charlie said. “Take ’em or leave ’em.”
    â€œAll right,” Terrance growled. “You get the paintings for one hour, the duration of the ATM transaction. Neil will write up a collateral agreement.”
    Charlie shook his head. “One month.”
    â€œWhat the hell for?”
    â€œSo I can look at them.”
    â€œTwo weeks.”
    â€œIf anything goes wrong, the bank keeps the paintings to cover my losses. We’ll use your insurance appraisals to determine value.” Knowing Terrance, the insurance appraisals were way inflated, but he didn’t argue the point. The game was over; Register had won. “I want you to know I’m agreeing to this only because Deborah’s in danger,” Charlie said.
    â€œYeah,” said Terrance. The starch had gone out of his shirt, but not for long; he was already looking for the next challenge. “Set it up so we can watch the transfer on your