“It’s going to be eighty today, light showers expected tomorrow.”
Ryan looked at her now. “Is that right?”
“One winter in Bad Axe the snow was so deep,” Denise said, and stopped. “You want to know how deep the snow was?”
“How deep was it?” Ryan said.
“It was so deep outside you had to shit in a shotgun and shoot it up the chimney.”
“That’s pretty deep,” Ryan said.
Denise lowered her face to the beach towel. “So are you.”
Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Finally Ryan said, “Okay.”
Denise didn’t say anything right away. She watched him lean over and fish inside the straw bag for something. He brought out his wallet. Denise raised her head a little.
“Okay, what?”
Ryan took out a five-dollar bill, reached over, and let it fall on the end of the towel, by her face.
“Mr. Perez. Let’s go get him.”
“How?”
“I’ve got a couple of ideas.”
“Is that what you’ve been thinking about?”
“Part of the time,” Ryan said. “You want to go after your money? It’s up to you.”
She liked the line of the straw hat brim, low over his eyes as he looked at her. She liked the quiet sound of his voice and his brown arms and the way he sat in the canvas chair, waiting.
She said, “Why don’t we get it and come back?”
Ryan smiled. “Why don’t we?”
He called and reserved seats on an Eastern flight out of Miami. They had to hurry to make it. They packed and dressed inside a half hour. Denise remembered something as they were ready to go and they put the leftovers in the refrigerator for the maid: ketchup and mustard, pickles, oleo, bread, a ham shank and the two inches of Almaden red that were still in the bottle.
20
RYAN HAD TO wait while Rita got the coffee, escaping, giving herself time to think, standing over there by the tan coffee urn that matched the beige tones and fabrics of the law office. She came back past the palm tree plants on the file cabinets with matching ceramic mugs and placed one on the desk next to Ryan.
“Thanks,” he said. “Look, you can’t get in any trouble. All you’re doing, you’re typing up a complaint and a summons. Nobody’s going to ask who typed it.”
Rita sat down at the desk and made room for her coffee mug. “You want to threaten him, is that it?”
“I want Mr. Perez to see he could get tied up in court,” Ryan said, “if Mrs. Leary decides she wants to bring suit.”
“Mrs. Leary, or you could call her the complainant,” Rita said.
Ryan smiled. “That’s what happens I get in a lawyer’s office. Okay-Denise could bring suit.”
“Well, why doesn’t she go ahead and do it?” Rita said. “If Perez is being such a prick about it.”
“Because I don’t think we have to. Going to court, it ties him up, it ties everybody up.”
He could see Rita was trying to get out of it. Maybe she was mad, holding it in. She said, “I don’t know. God, I’ve got a shit-load of work to get out today.”
Ryan leaned closer to the desk. “It’s two sheets of paper. What’ll it take you, ten minutes? An ace typist.”
Rita gave him a tired look. “Ace typist. I’m surprised you didn’t bring a box of candy.”
“Or a Baggie,” Ryan said. “Okay, I’m asking you as a favor. I guarantee you won’t get involved.”
“You two must be pretty close by now,” Rita said. “A week in Florida.”
“Five days,” Ryan said.
“Are you in love with her?”
“Yeah, I guess I am.” He felt good saying it. Rita could do whatever she wanted.
She didn’t say anything right away, looking at him with a thoughtful expression, maybe remembering the two of them together, feeling her impression of him, maybe appreciating him more than she had before. She said, “You’re a nice guy, Jack. I just hope you don’t fuck up.”
Then, from earth tones and green plants to Jay Walt’s purple crushed velvet and glass-topped chrome. Purple, with light-blue carpeting and the light-blue leisure suit and the clean light-blue Cadillac Seville outside the suburban office building. With Ryan’s dirty light-blue Catalina parked next to it.
Where Ryan was sitting he could see the two cars through the window. He was thinking, Dark blue next time, or dark brown.
Jay Walt, in his desk-chair recliner, had his shoes off, his light-blue-socked feet crossed on his eight-foot sheet of glass desk.
“So what’s the problem?” Jay Walt said. “It’s done all the time. All you want to do is goose him, right? So mail him the complaint. Cost you thirteen cents.”
“No, I want to see his reaction,” Ryan said, “but I’m afraid I’d blow it. He sees I’m nervous, he’s liable to think I’m pulling something.”
“Which you are. Shit, come on, you serve paper every day with your nice boyish bullshit. What’re you talking about?” Jay Walt thumbed his gold lighter several times to relight his cigar. “Hand it to him and play dumb.”
“But he knows me,” Ryan said. “That’s the thing. It’s my idea, he knows that, and I’m handing him the papers. You see what I mean? He’d try and finesse me, I’m standing right there.”
Jay Walt began to nod and then grinned. “You haven’t told me everything, have you, Jackie? You’re working for the guy-what, now you’re working for the broad? Hey, shit, I’d watch you too. What’s this guy doing?”
“I don’t work for him anymore,” Ryan said. “You know how he is, he doesn’t see he needs you, that’s it.”
“No fucking heart,” Jay Walt said. “And you can’t take him to court for fraud, because at one time you were part of it, right? Pissed off and you want revenge.”
“She’s the complainant,” Ryan said, “I’m not. I can go to California for six months. Shit, I can walk away from the whole thing.”
Jay Walt said, “Hey, Jackie? Bullshit. You got a good thing, broad with money coming, and you’re not gonna let it out of your sight, man. What’s the value of the stock?”
“Jesus,” Ryan said, “that’s what she wants to find out. Hand him a mandatory injunction and hope he’ll want to sit down and talk instead of going to court.”
“Keep the fucking lawyers out of it,” Jay Walt said. “I don’t blame you. But you got a problem. You want to jack the guy up without going near him. The only thing you can do in that case is mail it to him, as I said before.”
“I was thinking, if you knew somebody I could rely on,” Ryan said, “a bright young guy you think could do a quick study on Perez, give me his reactions, what he says-”
“Here? The assholes I got? You got to point them to the can they want to take a leak.”
“-Mrs. Leary’d be willing to pay a hundred and a half. Maybe go two bills if she likes the report. Just between you and me.”
Jay Walt turned his head against the backrest of his chair to look over at Ryan, waiting there patiently with his offer. Boy with a good reputation, honest, sincere, a little naпve maybe. Maybe not.
“In advance?”
“Say a hundred down.”
“Who drew up the complaint, some law student?”
“I guarantee it’s in order.”
“Only the procedure’s a little funny, huh?”
