Gold Coast

Roland, in the front doorway, watched the white Lauderdale police car with it’s red bubble, drive over the bridge to Harbor Beach Parkway. He’d pulled it off, made his point.

Roland said over his shoulder, “I knew you were up there watching. You enjoy the show?”

No answer from her.

The cops had eyed his Cadillac and right now were probably calling the Communications Center to punch the code on his license number. Those guys were going to shit when they got the report; but they wouldn’t come back now without a heavy charge and backup.

Karen, standing behind him in the hall, said, “Are we going to talk?”

Roland turned, closing the door. He studied Karen, trying to make up his mind about something.

“You’re different’n before. You know it? You’re a lot calmer. I don’t mean you’re ever excitable, but there’s something different about you. You got something bothering you you’re holding in?”

“You talk a lot,” Karen said, “but you never get to the point.” She turned and went into the living room.

Roland followed her, looking up at the high-beamed ceiling, impressed with the size of the room every time he came in here.

“I believe I owe you a few bucks. I broke some plates.”

Karen said, “Tell me what you want.” She stood by the fireplace. She felt like moving but didn’t want to pace in front of him.

Roland eased into a deep chair. His hat brim touched the cushion of the backrest and he hunched forward a little.

“What’re you offering me?”

“How about twenty-five thousand?”

“Cash? In new hundred dollar bills?”

Karen stared at him.

Roland stared back. He said, “How come you got all those pictures upstairs?” He pulled his Ox Bow down closer to his eyes so he could rest his head against the chair.

“Did you take the money?”

“No, it’s there. I figure it’s for cigarettes and bird feed, uh?”

“I’m waiting for you to come out and say it,” Karen said. “What you want.”

“I’m not bragging or anything,” Roland said, “but ladies have asked me that before. ‘What do you want?’ they say, ‘anything.’ ”

“I haven’t said ‘anything.’ ”

“Not yet. See, the fact you got four million bucks, sort of-the proceeds of it-don’t make you any different from the other ladies asked me what I wanted. And I was in no position to be as nice to them as I am to you. See, Ed Grossi passed on before he changed anything, and guess who they put in charge?”

“I don’t believe you,” Karen said.

“Call Jimmy Cap. Ain’t nobody higher’n Jimmy.”

Karen started to move from the fireplace. She caught herself, moving to be moving, made herself stand motionless, relax, and put her hand on the rough beam that served as a mantel. Why was it so easy for him? Roland. The way he’d handled the police; refused to stand up or answer them. The convenience, the timing of Ed Grossi’s death. She wanted to probe, ask questions, insinuate-

And found she didn’t have to. Roland said, “You don’t know for sure Ed was go

“The way it happened to turn out,” Karen said.

“Yeah, I don’t mean we should go out and celebrate Ed’s passing, but it does make it easier for all concerned.”

“That he happened to die,” Karen said, staying with it.

“Hey, they got the guy,” Roland said. “Don’t try and mix me up in that. No, all I’m saying, you work hard and sometimes you get lucky. And here we are, huh?”

“You had something to do with his death,” Karen said.

“I know the boy did it, that’s all. Ask the police, I already talked to them.”

Karen wanted to say, And Vivian, who’s also in this. Where’s Vivian? But she held back, aware of herself standing at the mantel, alone with the man who wore his hat in the house, the backcountry gangster, the Miami Beach hotdog, the good-ol’ boy with his boots on the coffee table-God-making herself remain calm while she felt the stir of excitement, and thought, as she had the first time he came here-you can handle it.

Play it his way. You can take him.

Karen said, “You still haven’t said anything, have you? What you want.”

“Yeah, I said ladies have offered me things, wanting to be nice.”

“How much is nice?”

“No, it’s got to be what you want to give. You don’t understand, do you?”

“I’m having a little trouble,” Karen said.

“Look, you got four million bucks, the proceeds of it. You got everything you should want or need. But if you leave here you’re cut off, the funds end.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“I’m reviewing the situation. I can’t see you leaving and giving up four million bucks.”

“I can’t either,” Karen said.

“But your fooling-around love-life is also curtailed, huh?”

“It looks like it.”

“Unless you and me get something going.”

“You mean all I have to do is go to bed with you?”

Roland gri

“I go to bed with you,” Karen said. “Then what?”

“You ask me to go to bed.”

“All right, I ask you. Then what happens after that?”

“We live happily ever after.”

“You move in here?”

“Tomorrow, you want me to.”

“It’s not just money then. Even a whole lot.”

“Money?” Roland said. “Shit, I want the money and everything that goes with it. You, the whole setup.”

“But you’re not going to use force, intimidation.”

“Other than keeping your dink boyfriends away so’s you become sex-starved.”

“If it’s simply between you and me,” Karen said and paused. “You don’t have a chance.”

There was Roland’s grin, showing he was enjoying himself and liked the situation. He said, “We might’ve got off on the wrong foot and all. But, listen, you’re go

19

MAGUIRE SAW THE Cadillac Coupe de Ville in the drive as he turned onto Isla Bahía. He continued past the house, seeing the dead-end ahead at the canal, and came to a stop.

Nowhere to hide. He knew it was Roland’s car in the drive: the same one he had watched Roland get in when they came out of the Yankee Clipper, Maguire hanging back so Roland wouldn’t see the Mercedes.

He’d see it now. Maybe looking at it out the window right this minute.

Well, he could turn around and get out of here, quick. Or he could go in the house- Didn’t we meet someplace before? He didn’t know how to play it. He didn’t know how Roland would react. But Roland was there and what if right at this moment Karen needed help? Shit. Andre Patterson said he had nerve; but that was going into a place ready, knowing what you were going to do, having a good idea what the reaction would be. This was way different. Goddamn Roland-he didn’t know anything about him except he was built like a six and a half foot tree stump and had the hands and the reach and a hide it would be hard to even dent, ‘less you hit him with a tire iron. From behind.

He could feel them watching him. Roland and Karen. Shit. He backed up the car, all the way past the drive, and turned in.

Marta’s hair was combed but looked wet, like she’d just washed it. Maguire said, “Anybody home?”

“He’s here,” Marta said.

“I know he is. Where are they?”

“I think you better not come in.”

“It’s all right,” Maguire said. “I’m not go

Both of them watched Maguire make his entrance, appear and wait to be invited into the living room. Karen by the fireplace, Roland seated in a deep chair with his hat on.

Gretchen came over, sniffed at Maguire’s legs and went back to Roland who reached down, giving Gretchen his hand to play with, saying, “You smell the dead fish on him, Gretchie? Huh, do you? Pee-you but it stinks, don’t it?”