The Ethical Assassin_ A Novel Part 26

"How much money you think that Chitra will want for her to give me some of that p.u.s.s.y she got?" Ronny Neil asked. "How much you think?"

"I think she's giving it away," Scott told him. "Those Indian girls are h.o.r.n.y as s.h.i.t. The dots they got on their heads make them h.o.r.n.y. She don't have a dot, but it's the same thing."

"Shut the f.u.c.k up," Ronny Neil said. Then, on second thought, he added, "h.o.r.n.y as s.h.i.t. I heard that, too."

Back at the motel, after everyone had piled out of the car, Bobby put a hand on my shoulder to hold me back. We watched as Scott and Ronny Neil walked off, with Kevin lagging behind good-naturedly, trying to stay in the conversation, not seeming to notice or mind that Ronny Neil and Scott didn't give a d.a.m.n about him.

"Wait a minute," Bobby said. "I want to talk to you."

I sighed. "I'll do better tomorrow," I said, though I knew I wouldn't. I'd blank again tomorrow because I wouldn't try again tomorrow. It was that simple.

"It's not that," Bobby said. "I want to know what's going on with you and the Gambler."

If it weren't for the darkness, Bobby would have seen the cloud of fear pa.s.s over me. "It's nothing," I said, reaching for words that would comfort him and in no way encourage him to bring the conversation to the Gambler himself.

"Don't tell me it's nothing. This morning the Gambler seemed ready to string you up. Now the two of you are best buddies and he's sending you on errands. Plus, he's leaning on me to do whatever those two baboons, Ronny Neil and Scott, want. He told me to give them whatever spots they ask for, Lem. He told me to treat them like kings. I'm going to do what I'm told, but I want to know why."

"I don't know why."

"Come on, Lem. I know your story. You want to go to college. A little more than a year from now you'll be studying for midterms and trying to talk sorority girls into coming back to your dorm room. I'm still going to be here. This is my job, and I want to keep doing it. I like that I make money doing it. I'm good at it."

"I know you are."

"Yeah, then why are you s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g this up for me?"

"Because I blanked?"

"You know that isn't it. The Gambler is angry with me, and I can't figure out what his deal with you is. You've got to tell me what's going on, because I don't want to burn out here. I've put too many years into this. It took me two years to be a crew boss. I can move up in this organization, but not if the Gambler is angry at me. So, you've got to tell me what's going on."

I shook my head. "I don't know."

"Is it about the reporter? Have you talked to that reporter he mentioned?"

I shook my head again.

"Because you were asking those questions this morning."

"I was curious is all."

He waited a moment to see if there would be more coming. There wouldn't be. "You won't tell me?" he asked, his voice gone quiet now.

"There's nothing to tell, Bobby."

"f.u.c.k!" He slapped his hand down on the back of the car. "I've been your friend. I've looked out for you, and I've helped you make a lot of money. And this is how you treat me?"

"If I could tell you something, I would," I said, almost whined.

"Get the f.u.c.k out of here," Bobby said.

I started back to the hotel, and I thought that the next two days were going to be the most miserable of my life. And that was saying a lot.

Chapter 29.

I WASN'T SURE WASN'T SURE I I WANTED TO GO WANTED TO GO to the pool that night. What I wanted was to keep a low profile, to slink through the rest of the weekend without making anyone else hate me, without having any more conflicts with Ronny Neil and Scott. Or the Gambler. Or Bobby. On the other hand, if I was never going to come back, then I was never going to see Chitra again, not unless I arranged to see her. So maybe that was what I needed to concentrate on. to the pool that night. What I wanted was to keep a low profile, to slink through the rest of the weekend without making anyone else hate me, without having any more conflicts with Ronny Neil and Scott. Or the Gambler. Or Bobby. On the other hand, if I was never going to come back, then I was never going to see Chitra again, not unless I arranged to see her. So maybe that was what I needed to concentrate on.

I looked out the window to the pool area. People were beginning to congregate. No sign of Chitra, though. I could go out there, have a couple of beers, and see if she showed up.

I left the room and went down the stairs, this time unhindered, and began to make my way across the path. I walked quickly, with my head down, the way I did when I was lost in concentration, and the noise was almost drowned out by the sound of my own footsteps. That is, it would have been drowned out by the sound of my own footsteps if there hadn't been a voice my whole nervous system had been wired to hear. I had become like a radar dish, tuned to one signal, and when that signal was anywhere in the air, my dish rotated toward it.

It was Chitra's voice, musical and lilting. But this time it was not so soft. It was strident.

"Ronny Neil, please."

A couple of vending machines stood behind the building with the check-in desk. More than once I'd heard couples making out in there when I came back to my room late at night. Only now it was Chitra back there. With Ronny Neil.

Were they having a fight? Could she have lied to me so brazenly about her connection with Ronny Neil? Was she so foolish, and was I so foolish as to have believed her?

"I got me a double today," I heard Ronny Neil say.

I took a step closer.

"Yes, that's nice, but you brought me here under false pretenses. I don't want to stay."

"Sure you do, baby."

"No, Ronny Neil. Take your hand off of me. I don't want to stay."

"Give me one kiss. Come on. It ain't so hard."

I knew this was a gift. I could walk right up to that vending machine and be the hero. If I rescued Chitra, there would be no going back. The only problem was, I didn't know how to rescue her. I wished Melford were here, with his gun and his bravado and his cool disposition. Melford would know exactly what to do.

I looked around, as though the answer might be somewhere nearby. I heard voices from the pool, laughter, the grating sound of patio furniture sliding against the rough chattahoochee. And there was the throbbing in my head, the veins or arteries or whatever they were in my temples thumping, thumping like the pulsating gong of cowardice. I felt sure I was going to walk away. Chitra could take care of herself, for a few more minutes, anyhow. I would get a couple of guys, and we would all come back. My role would be diminished, but Chitra would be safe and the risk would be spread more comfortably.

I felt sure I was going to walk away, but that wasn't how it happened. I pushed my way through the bushes and found Chitra pinned to the c.o.ke machine. Her head was flush against the bright red facade of it, her ponytail squished, her face in a glowing mask of fear and contempt. Ronny Neil stood right before her, bent over slightly, holding hard to her wrist.

I wanted to shout something melodramatic and absurd, but I choked down the words, because the thing was, Melford might be crazy, he might be a homicidal freak, but he still knew a thing or two about the world and about human nature.

"Hey, guys," I said. "What's going on?" I walked past Chitra and toward the soda machine, then fished into my pocket for some change. My hands were shaking badly, but I was certain I could keep everything under control. I turned to Chitra. "Excuse me for a sec," I said.

She stepped forward, and I slid the coins into the slot and pushed the b.u.t.ton for a Sprite.

Not that which soda I picked made a difference. I could have pressed the b.u.t.ton for goat p.i.s.s if it were on there, for all it mattered. But the Sprite landed at the bottom with a hollow and metallic thud, and I took it out, popped the top, and turned back to the two of them.

"What's up with you two?" I asked. I kept the wavering in my voice to a minimum.

"Why don't you f.u.c.k off?" Ronny Neil said.

I shrugged, as though I'd been asked if I had plans for the weekend. "I don't know," I said. "Never really thought about it."

"What?" Ronny Neil sneered.

"I don't know why I don't f.u.c.k off," I explained. "I'm not in the mood to f.u.c.k off right now, I guess." I looked over at Chitra. "You want to take a walk or something?"

The thinnest of smiles appeared on her lips, as though she suddenly understood the game. "Yes," she said. The smile was growing. "I think I'd like that very much."

I looked over at Ronny Neil. "See you back at the room."

Easy as that, we walked away.

We crossed through the registration area, where Sameen gave me a curious glance, and then out to the pool area. We figured, without discussing it, that Ronny Neil wouldn't follow us that way. I stopped to toss out the Sprite and pick up a couple of tall boys from the cooler, because, holy h.e.l.l, I needed a beer. I handed one to Chitra and then opened my own. It didn't taste all that much different from the Sprite when you came down to it, but it was good. I needed a drink. I'd never needed a drink in that manly way before, but I needed one now.

I was calmer than I would have thought, maybe even than I should have been. My heart pounded and my hands still trembled, but I didn't care. The grateful heat emanating from Chitra, her appreciative silence, her relieved and amused smile, were all like the pendulous watch of a hypnotist.

We walked past the pool and back to the cloister of the motel. I had no idea where we were going, and I could tell Chitra had no idea, either. None of the book people were staying in this part of the building. We went up the stairs and walked along the second-story balcony, looking out over the railing, painted white but with rust showing through. We stopped where the floor turned, filling out the boomerang shape of the wing. Here was another pair of vending machines-food and beverage-and a groaning ice machine as well.

Now Chitra was leaning up against a vending machine again, and there I was, just like Ronny Neil, slouching in front of her. Only this time she was smiling. She took my hands.

"You're very clever," she said.

"That makes one of us. What were you doing behind the bushes with that idiot?"

She laughed, and her caramel-colored skin darkened with a blush. "He told me that the vending machine had some sort of Indian soft drinks in it. I can't believe I fell for it."

"Me either. Wow."

She laughed. "I know it sounds foolish, but this motel is is owned by Indians, you know. It was possible." owned by Indians, you know. It was possible."

"True enough," I agreed. "They have that chutney-o-matic in the lobby."

She was still laughing. "You can stop making fun of me now."

"Okay," I agreed. "Maybe I will."

We said nothing for a long time. She held my eyes and we grinned. I knew I ought to kiss her. I knew it. But she was from India. How did they do things there? I might offend her. Maybe kissing was the last thing on her mind, and she was involved in some mysterious Hindu grat.i.tude ritual, and if I tried anything, she'd hate me. I'd be as bad as Ronny Neil.

But then she was no longer holding my hands. She had her hands on my arms, and she was rubbing them back and forth. I took a step forward, and Chitra reached out and put her hands behind my neck and pulled me in for a kiss.

Her lips were soft and warm, and I could feel her breath swirling around in my mouth in little eddies. And then she pulled away again. And smiled.

I had sort of been hoping for something more pa.s.sionate, more bodice ripping. On the other hand, I liked the slow sweetness of it.

"I'm glad you were the one who rescued me," she said. "I would have hated to have to kiss Scott that way."

"I'd have hated that, too. Listen, Chitra. You look really beautiful by the light of that c.o.ke machine. Don't get me wrong. But I'm wondering if we might go somewhere else a little more, you know, private."

"Are you trying to get me to go back to your room?" she asked.

I let out a nervous laugh that even I thought sounded dorky. "So we can see Ronny Neil again? It wasn't really what I had in mind. Frankly, I was thinking of anyplace with chairs. We could call a cab, get a drink or something. Just so long as we get away from here."

"Do you want to go get a hamburger?"

"No," I said. "I really don't."

"Me either. I'll stop teasing you. You know, it's amazing how you don't notice the things all around you. You don't imagine possibilities, even when those possibilities are right in front of your face."

I stared at her. It sounded too d.a.m.n much like something Melford would say. "Chitra, I really like you, but I have no idea what you are talking about."

Her big eyes, dark and wide, locked on mine. "What I'm talking about is that rooms at this motel only cost thirty-nine dollars per night."

I felt as though I'd been kicked in the stomach by the most pleasant foot on earth. I was scared, even terrified. I wanted to say no, to put on the brakes, but that was another form of cowardice, and I knew it.

"Really?" I said.

"I'm quite sure. There's a big sign out front with the price."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant. I'd like to get a room with you. I don't know what will happen in it, but I think I can trust you. I just want to get away from everyone and everything for a while, to talk in private, to have our own s.p.a.ce. I know a motel room is suggestive, but I can trust that nothing will happen that I am not ready for. Can't I?"

"Of course you can," I told her, strangely relieved that I might not have to lose my virginity just yet. "You know," I said, "if they find out, they'll fire you."

"I don't want to come back. Not if you're not going to be here anymore."

This time the foot in the stomach was not quite so pleasant. I hadn't told anyone about not planning on coming back, not even Melford. "How did you know that?"

"Come on. I saw you getting out of your friend Melford's car tonight. It's clear you're not even trying to sell anymore."

"That's pretty complicated," I said.

"You don't have to explain anything to me."

"I want to, but I can't right now."

"Is everything okay? I mean, he's not getting you involved in anything dangerous or reckless, is he?"

I didn't want to lie to her directly, so I approached it obliquely. "Melford's a complicated guy."

"I notice you haven't answered me. I still think there's something strange about him."

"There's nothing that's not strange about him. But my not selling isn't really his doing. It's mine. I don't want to do this anymore. The money is good, but it's not worth it."

"I know what you mean. I made so much money last weekend that I hardly even noticed how miserable I was. But this weekend it feels more like a forced march. I was looking forward to seeing you again this weekend, and if you're not going to be here, I think I would be miserable."