'Sorry,' he said. 'It ain't you. I oughta be thankin' you, I guess. But that no-good punk pisses the hell outta me. He never shoulda came to you. He gets his ass in trouble, he oughta get it out.'
'Uh-huh,' I said. 'How come you never gave him a break, Tony?'
Tony snorted. 'I was too busy feedin' him! What the hell you see to like in that kid, Smith?'
I grinned. 'Reminds me of me.'
'You musta been one godless bastard.'
'I was. Only I didn't have a big brother like you, Tony. I was worse.'
'Yeah, well, he should'n'a came to you. And don't think you're gonna pay that candy-ass lawyer you brought here. I told you to send me his goddamn bill.'
'Forget it. He owed me.'
'That's between you and him. I been bailin' Jimmy's ass outta trouble for years; I got no reason to stop now. I don't like the kid, Smith, but I'm family. You ain't.'
I looked at Tony, at the sharp line of his jaw, his brows bristling over his deep-set eyes. 'No,' I said slowly. 'No, I'm not.' I poured myself another drink, took the bottle to a table in the corner, and sat down to wait for Eve Colgate.
Another bourbon and a cigarette later, the door opened and a tall, gray-haired woman stepped into the smoky room. No heads turned, no conversations stopped. She looked around her, reviewing and dismissing each face until she came to mine. She stayed still for a moment, with no change of expression; then she came toward me, contained, controlled. She wore a down vest over a black sweater, old, stained jeans, muddy boots. I stood.
'Mr. Smith?' She offered her hand. Her grip was sure, her hand rough. 'Thank you for coming.'
'Sit down.' I held a chair for her.
'Thank you.' She smiled slightly. 'Men don't do this much anymore—help ladies into their seats.'
'I was born in Kentucky. What are you drinking?'
'Tony keeps a bottle of Gran Capitan under the bar for me.' The skin of her face was lined like paper that someone had crumpled and then, in a moment of regret, tried to smooth out again. Her blunt, shoulder-length hair was a dozen shades of gray, from almost-black to almost-white. I went to get her drink.
Tony gestured across the room with his eyes as he poured Eve Colgate's brandy. 'You know her?'
'Just met. Why?'
'I meant to tell you she was askin' about you, coupla days ago. Wondered about it, at the time. She don't usually talk to nobody. Comes in alone, has a shot, leaves alone. Maybe sometimes she talks cows or apples with somebody.
She ain't—I don't know.' He shook his head over what he didn't know. 'But she's got money.'
'My type, Tony.' I picked up her brandy from the bar.
'Hey!' Tony said as I turned. I turned back. 'You ain't workin' for her?'
'Nah. She just thinks I'm cute.'
'With a puss like you got?' Tony muttered as I walked away.
Eve Colgate's mouth smiled as I put her drink on the scarred tabletop. Her eyes were doing work of their own. They were the palest eyes I'd ever seen, nearly colorless. They probed my face, my hands, swept over the room around us, followed my movements as I drank or lit a cigarette. When they met my eyes they paused, for a moment. They widened slightly, almost imperceptibly, and I thought for no reason of the way a dark room is revealed by a lightning flash, and how much darker it is, after that.
I smoked and let Eve Colgate's eyes play. I didn't meet them again. She took a breath, finally, and spoke, with the cautious manner of a carpenter using a distrusted tool.
'I'm not sure how to begin.' She sipped her brandy. If I had a dollar for every client who started that way I could have had a box at Yankee Stadium, but there was a difference. They usually said it apologetically, as if they expected me to expect them to know how to begin. Eve Colgate was stating a fact that I could take or leave.
'I called you on a matter difficult for me to speak about. I don't know you, and I don't know that I want you closely involved in my—in my personal affairs. However, I don't seem to have many options, and all of them are poor you may be the best of them.'
'That's flattering.'
She looked at me steadily. 'Don't be silly. I can't pretend to welcome the intrusion you represent. I'm too old to play games for the sake of your pride, Mr. Smith. I may need you, but I can't see any reason to be pleased about it.'
I couldn't either, so I let it go.
She went on, her words clipped. 'However, things are as they are. At this point, Mr. Smith, I'd like to know something more about you. All I have up to now are other people's opinions, and that's not enough. Is this acceptable?'
'Maybe. It depends on what you want to know.'
'I'll tell you what I do know. I know you bought Tony's father's cabin ten years ago. You come up here irregularly, sometimes for long periods. Tony says you're moody and you drink. Other than that he speaks very highly of you. I understand you helped get his brother out of serious trouble recently—and went to considerable trouble to do it.'
'The kid deserved a chance. He was in over his head in something he didn't understand. I bought that cabin twelve years ago. I sleep in the nude.'
