'Because I want to.' Cain shook his head. 'Another lesson for you, my friend. Never turn down help; it may save your skin.'
'Two things. First, I'm not your friend. Second, I don't need any lessons from you.'
'You're partly right,' Cain agreed. 'You don't need any lessons from me. You're the one with the gun. I'm the one made the mistake. But you might want to reconsider the friend part.'
'Yeah, right. What the hell do you take me for?'
'Someone in need of help,' Cain said.
'I don't need or want your help.'
'Shame,' Cain said, 'because from where I'm sitting it looks like you need all the help you can get.'
'There you go again. Patronizing.'
'Take it as you will. I only want to help.'
'I don't need your help.'
'I beg to differ.'
'You'd be better off begging for your life.'
'Nah,' Cain said. 'Why bother? We've already established that you aren't going to kill me.'
The thief lifted his gun, pointing it directly at Cain's face. 'Maybe not in cold blood. But who knows what I'll do in self-defense?'
Cain smiled up at him. 'Like I've already said, though, I'm not going to make a move on you. So you won't get the opportunity to test your theory.'
The tableau held for the best part of a lifetime. At least a lifetime counted in seconds. Finally the gun barrel wavered and dropped away from Cain's face.
'So what have we got then? Stalemate?' the thief asked.
'More like an impasse,' Cain offered.
'Same thing, isn't it?'
'Depends on your perspective,' Cain said. 'A stalemate's when two enemies are at a deadlock. If we look at our situation as one of companions with a shared problem, then we can look to resolve it together.'
'Only problem I can think of is how to get rid of you,' the thief said.
'You can't very well call the police, can you?' Cain asked. 'Fair enough, you could say I was an intruder, but what happens when I explain I followed you here because you hijacked my car? Two wrongs don't make a right, my friend.'
The thief pondered a moment.
'I could tie you up and leave you here, though. Then I could make an anonymous call to the cops.'
'They're still going to ask questions. They'll identify you in no time. I take it your fingerprints are all over this room? Not to mention the SUV—which, I'll remind you, is not going anywhere soon. And before you consider wiping everything down, may I remind you about the front desk downstairs? Are you positive you didn't leave your fingerprints there when you signed in?'
The thief sniffed again. 'You're assuming the police are after me. I'm not on the run from the cops.'
'You will be if I tell them you kidnapped me.'
The thief watched him and Cain smiled.
'Impasse,' Cain said.
'No,' the thief replied. 'Stalemate.'
'Look,' Cain said, 'we could go on like this all evening. We've both wronged each other. I'll admit that. If you're prepared to let bygones be bygones, so am I.'
'I can't trust you,' the thief said.
'But can I trust you?'
Now it was the thief's turn to smile. Honest John's Quality Used Cars had a new head salesclerk.
Cain closed his eyes. 'If I tell you something, then you're going to have to trust me. I don't want the police involved any more than you do.'
The thief shook his head. 'I don't want to know anything about you.'
Cain opened his eyes slowly. 'You did earlier.'
'That was then. That was when I thought you were one of Hendrickson's men.'
'And you believe now that I'm not? Well, that's a start.'
'Something's bothering me, though,' the thief said. 'You're not here on some stupid quest to recover a stolen knife. What's the real reason?'
'I was telling you the truth,' Cain said. 'I do want my knife back.'
'What the hell for?'
'Sentimental value,' Cain explained.
'You follow me hundreds of miles, sneak into my room like some psycho from a cheap horror movie, just to get a knife back?'
