'You got any money?' she asked suddenly.
He wondered if she was a pro, and she caught his expression.
'Not for fun and games, dummy,' she said. 'I'm no hooker. I mean real money.'
'I'm not rich, but I get by.'
She sighed. 'I've got this great idea for a new business. It would be profitable from Day One. So I go to my dear hubby for start-up cash, and the asshole stiffs me. He's loaded, but it's all for him, none for me.'
'Maybe he wants to keep you dependent on him.'
'Yeah, that's probably it. He knows if I ever had my own income, it'd be goodbye Mort.'
'What's this new business you want to start?'
'An escort service,' she said. 'Covering the Miami-Lauderdale area. Listen, next to drugs, tourists are Florida's biggest cash crop. Men and women come down here on vacation and want a good time. But they don't know anyone. They don't know where to go, what to see. I'd provide escorts-young, good-looking guys and dolls-they could hire for an hour, an evening, a day, a week, to show them around, best restaurants and so forth. Keep them from getting lonely. What do you think?'
'Sex?' he asked.
She shrugged. 'It wouldn't be in the contract, but if the escorts want to make a private deal, it would be up to them. As long as my agency gets its fee. I pay the escorts a percentage and pocket the rest. The escorts can keep the tips, if any.'
'You know,' he said, 'it just might go.'
'Can't miss,' she said. 'I could even arrange boat charters and things like that. And I'd screen the escorts carefully. All clean, tanned kids. South Florida is full of beach bums, male and female. I'd recruit a choice staff who have table manners, know how to dress and talk and dance and show the tourists a good time.'
He poured them more bourbon. 'What do you figure your start-up costs would be?'
'Twenty-five thousand at least. Possibly more. Because I want this to be a class operation. And listen, there are a lot of ways to make an extra buck. Like getting kickbacks from restaurants and nightclubs for steering clients there. Ditto for jewelry stores, hotels, and expensive boutiques. It could be a gold mine. You got twenty-five grand to spare?'
'I wish I did,' he said. 'As a matter of fact, I did have it a week ago. But then I met your husband.'
'Mooch!' she jeered. 'You can kiss those bucks goodbye. What'd he put you in-penny stocks?'
'For starters. But those made money.'
'The old come-on. Did you see any of the money he said you made?'
'Well … no. It was reinvested, plus more.'
'Uh-huh, that sounds like Mort. What are you in now?'
'Something called the Fort Knox Commodity Trading Fund.'
'Yeah,' she said, 'I heard him talking on the phone about that. I don't know what it is, but all his buddies are in on it so it's got to be a scam. I call them Captain Crook and his Merry Crew.'
'Your husband is Captain Crook?'
'Nah, he's just one of the crew. The Captain is a guy named David Rathbone, a handsome devil who hasn't got a straight bone in his body.'
Clark did some heavy thinking. 'Maybe I can get my money back from your husband,' he said.
'Fat chance! Once he's got his paws on your green, it's his, to have and to hold till he croaks.'
'If I could get it back,' he persisted, 'maybe we could talk some more about your escort service.'
'Hey,' she said, 'that would be great.'
'Tell me something,' he said. 'If I could come up with the money you need, would you leave your husband?'
'Is the Pope Catholic?' she cried. 'I'd be gone so fast all he'd see would be palm trees waving in my wind.'
'And move in with me?' Clark asked, staring at her.
She didn't blink. 'I learned a long time ago, you don't get something for nothing in the world. You bankroll my business, and I'll do whatever turns you on.'
'Okay,' he said, 'then we've got a deal. Give me your home phone number so I can reach you if anything breaks. You can always call me here at the hotel. Leave a message if I'm out.'
She nodded, rose, and began dressing. 'How soon do you think it'll be?'
'It may take weeks,' he said. 'Even a month. Try to be patient.'
'I'm good at that,' she said. 'Meanwhile we can be getting to know each other better.'
'It couldn't be much better than this afternoon.'
She left, and he showered and dressed. Then he went downstairs to drive to headquarters. Now he had something to put in his report.
Something, but not everything.
30
They started for Lakeland early in the morning, David driving the Bentley.
'We should be there by noon,' he said, 'if the traffic isn't too heavy. My meeting will take an hour or so. Then you and I'll have lunch and do some sightseeing before we head back. We should be home around eight o'clock.'
'Whatever you say, boss,' Rita said, yawning. 'I think I'll grab a little shut-eye. You didn't let me get much sleep last night. Where did you learn those tricks?'
'Mommy taught me,' he said, laughing.
'You've never mentioned your parents, David. You did have parents, didn't you? I mean you weren't just found in a cabbage patch?'
'Oh, I had parents,' he said, keeping his eyes on the road. 'Plus two brothers and a sister. All of them so straight they were practically rigid. I was the Ebony Sheep, in trouble since the age of seven when I was caught playing doctor and nurse with the little girl next door. I knew even then I'd cut loose from that family as soon as I could.'
'You ever hear from them?'
'Hell, no! And that's just the way I want it.'
'Don't you have an urge now and then to write or phone them? After all, they are your family.'
'Go to sleep,' he said, and she did.
It was a hot, hazy day with not much breeze stirring. They drove northward on U.S. Highway 27, through part of the Everglades, around Lake Okeechobee. The scenery kept changing: dense woods, arid patches of scrub pine, condo developments, lakes and canals, swamps, golf courses, somnolent little towns, and roadside diners that advertised alligator steaks. Everyone they saw was moving slowly in the heat. Some of the women carried parasols, and in every patch of shade, no matter how small, a hound lay snoozing.
They stopped once to gas up and gulp a cold Coke. Then they pushed on and were in Lakeland a little after noon. It looked like any other whitewashed Florida city with elderly tourists rocking on the verandas of ancient hotels. But there were a lot of out-of-state cars, and the souvenir shops were doing a brisk business in carved coconut masks, shell picture frames, and necklaces of shark teeth.
'What do the people who live here do besides clip the tourists?' Rita asked. 'I mean, how do they make a living?'
'Probably take in each other's laundry,' Rathbone said. 'I hope I remember the directions. Yep, here's the street, and there's the church. Now I make a right, go five blocks and hang a left. We dead-end at a park.'
'You're going to have a meeting in a parkV
'That's the way the printer wanted it,' David said. 'I wasn't about to argue. Ah, here we are.'
He pulled into a turnaround and stopped the car. Ahead lay a broad spread of flat lawn, nicely manicured, and trimmed palm trees surrounding a stretch of clear water, more pond than lake. There were meandering walkways, benches, clumps of scarlet hibiscus. Lovers were strolling, a family was picnicking on the grass, two small boys
