the right direction. The hunting lodge story was a blind, of course. I’d been hopping all over the country lately, and I had bought up a great deal of land, and the Barnstable Corporation stood to make a fortune. I was just a hired hand, and I was a little resentful of the fact that I was on straight salary, albeit a healthy salary, while the principals in the deal stood to pick up a bundle without doing much work for it at all. Of course they were very important men and I was just an employee, so I really had no kick coming. Barnstable already owned a vast stretch of Canadian land, and few prospects had given me a hard time the way Gunderman had done, and I didn’t care too much whether I bought his land or not, because we already had done so well in the land-purchasing department.
When I got to the end I let her feed it all back to me. She didn’t miss a trick, and she added a touch or two all her own. She was very damned good for an amateur. She had the brains for it, and the right attitude. She was a natural girl for the grift. If this fell in, I thought, or even if it didn’t, she could probably make a damned fine living as the female half of a badger game combo. She sure as hell had the looks for it.
She filled our glasses again. She said, “You know, I was very nervous about all of this before tonight, John. I’m not nervous anymore.”
“What changed your mind?”
“You did.”
“Me?” She nodded. “Uh-huh. Doug was all fire and enthusiasm and confidence, but I wasn’t sure he could bring it all off. But there’s something about you, I don’t know what it is, maybe just a feeling that you really know what you’re doing, that you’ll make sure everything runs smoothly from start to finish.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “I somehow just trust you, John.”
“Let’s hope your boss feels the same way.”
“I think he will. I’m awfully glad Doug was able to get you in on this deal. He told me about you when we were first starting to plan the whole thing, and he said you would be perfect if only you weren’t working on something else. That’s what I was afraid of, that you would have something else going.”
“I did.”
“Oh?”
“I was assistant manager at a bowling alley in Colorado.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“I don’t—”
I drank some more. “I got out of prison a little less than a year ago, Evvie. It was the first really hard time I’d ever served, and I decided I wasn’t going back, not ever. I took a square job and stuck with it.” I put my glass down. “Then Doug Rance turned up with a proposition. I said no to him a few times and wound up saying yes.”
“What changed your mind?”
Sometimes you have to share your dreams. It was the Scotch or the girl or a combination of the two, I suppose. I told her about Bannion’s dump outside of Boulder and how it would pay off like a broken slot machine with the right sort of operation. And how I couldn’t go there for a drink without itching for the money to buy the place and run it the way it ought to be run. And how I was in this deal for the money because there was no other way for me to get that money, and when the deal was done I would be back in Boulder, through with the grift forever and all set to make decent money on the square.
She asked a few questions and I answered them. Then we were both a long time silent. Our glasses were empty. I let them stay that way. I had enough of a load to feel it and I didn’t want to get drunk. We smoked a few cigarettes. I kept trying not to look at her, and kept failing in the attempt. This was dangerous. The more I looked at her the more I came up with crazy images. Pictures of the two of us on top of a Colorado mountain, walking hand in hand, as fresh and breathlessly natural as a commercial for mentholated cigarettes. The American Dream, stock footage number 40938.
Well, we all of us had our weaknesses. Doug gambled, I fell in love. It was nothing I wouldn’t be
Scott Hildreth, SD Hildreth