moved my shoulders. “Very little, Miss Fredericks. I’d heard the name before, that’s all.”
She laughed shortly. “Don’t be so damn cautious, you’re not the type... Dad thinks I still believe he’s in the hotel business. At least he’d like me to pretend I believe that.” She laughed again. “The hotel business! Choice, isn’t it? I’ve known better since I was nine... All those damn schools, always at the other end of the country, somewhere, and always they’d find out and start whispering... Pete Logan had it the same, of course, except that it was a little easier for him. His dad wasn’t so well known, just Big Sal’s bodyguard and right-hand man. And then, suddenly, Duke Logan wasn’t there any more, just a tough character with a broken nose; and I wasn’t supposed to go out to the Logan ranch, or visit the place in Mexico winters like I used to; and then they made up and I could go there again, but the Duke never came back to work for Dad, and he’d never tell me the reason. And now his wife kicks me off the place, calling down curses on the name of Fredericks. Corny! But if your name happened to be Fredericks, you’d want to know why, wouldn’t you?” She drew a long, ragged breath. “I don’t mean just words I’ve heard all my life, like racketeer and gangster. I mean exactly why.”
7
We reached town well after dark. It’s a gaudy place at night, Reno, self-proclaimed the biggest little city in the world, and we drove through it in silence. Following her directions, I turned into a neat residential area where we stopped in front of a little blue California-type house, probably two bedrooms, bath, living-dining room, and a small, shiny efficient kitchen. Hardwood floors and plenty of closet space would be included in the price, but no character or individuality whatever.
“Just pull up in the drive,” she said, and I stopped behind a white sports car parked on the gravel. She seemed to feel that the house required explanation, and said, “It’s kind of a big place for just one person, but it wouldn’t have been fair to Sheik to try keeping him in an apartment. The neighbors are going crazy trying to figure me out, living here alone.” Her voice was dry. “When they do, they’ll probably get up a petition to have my lease canceled. Well, thanks for the lift.”
I said, “I’ll give you a hand with that junior-grade horse.”
It took the two of us, again, to get him unloaded. He wouldn’t be pulled; I finally had to get in with him and scare him out into her arms. I had my doubts about this maneuver—the beast had jaws and teeth, remember—but apparently I frightened him a lot more than he frightened me. He just cowered against the side of the truck bed until I got behind him; then he made a flying leap outwards. She was ready for him, but seventy pounds of dog was too much for her and she went down in the gravel. She rolled over acrobatically and managed to grab the end of the leash she’d dropped in the fall.
“Now, Sheik,” she said mildly, picking herself up. “Well, thanks again,” she said to me. “I hope the true confessions didn’t bore you stiff. Catharsis, those head-shrinker characters call it, don’t they?”
“Something like that.”
“Do you want to come in? I’ve got liquor and ice, and I think there’s some hamburger left.”
She was brushing herself off in the rear as she spoke. Her voice was as casual as it could possibly be, but her disturbing eyes were very steady on my face. I was being tested. This was where I showed whether I was really a nice guy, or just another middle-aged jerk with an eye for youth and beauty.
“It sounds intriguing,” I said, and her eyes narrowed slightly, and I went on, “but I’ll have to take a rain-check. I got about twelve hours behind on my sleep, driving across the desert last night.”
“Where are you staying?”
“The Riverside Motel,” I said.
She hesitated, and asked abruptly, “Do you
Learning to Kill: Stories