A Gambling Man (Archer #2)(26)

“You got cranberry juice?” asked Callahan.

“Yes. Is that all you want?”

“Yeah, so long as it goes with the vodka.”

The woman grinned and gave Archer a condescending look. “Now, that’s wit, buckaroo. I’ll get your drinks.”

Archer took his hat off and set it on the table. He looked around the room. He’d been in bars better than this and lousier than this. The same alcohol was served here that was dished out in the best bars in the world, LA, New York, Paris, London, and Berlin, what was left of it. So in that respect a bar in Coalinga, California, was as good as any of those. But Archer was still in Coalinga and not Paris.

Callahan slipped out a Camel and tapped the lighting end on the hard surface to make the tobacco as good as it could be. “You think that little goon headed back to Reno?” she said.

Archer shrugged. “Maybe. He’s out of guns and bigger goons. I don’t see him following us alone.”

“He might still come after us with some other muscle.”

“Good luck finding us. California is a pretty big place.”

“That’s true,” she replied, her spirits seeming to lift.

They sat there in silence until his coffee and gimlet came along with her cocktail. The waitress pulled out her pad and pen.

“You folks had a chance to look over the menu? No more oysters and no more clams, by the way.”

“What would you recommend?” asked Archer.

“The steak. We got two pieces left. And baked potato. We got two of those left, too.”

“Steak and potatoes, why didn’t I think of that?” said Callahan. “Sold.”

“Make it a deuce,” added Archer.

The waitress went off. Archer drank down the rest of his coffee and turned his attention to the gimlet.

Callahan shot him a nervous glance. “You’re looking pensive again, Archer.”

“You still want to go on to Hollywood?”

She gave him a pointed look that seemed to peek right into his soul. She finished a long drag on her smoke before saying, “That was the original plan. You see any reason why I should change it?”

“Yeah, two of them, same as the number of bodies we left up in the mountains.”

“Do we have to go over that again?”

“Hear me out.”

“Okay.”

She sat back and crossed one long leg over the other, which rode her skirt way up, and commenced to jiggling her foot, letting her high heel dangle precariously off her toes. Chubby glanced over and saw this, and seemed to whimper before his companion kicked him under the table.

“It might be better if we stuck together, at least for a while.”

“You mean, if he comes after us with more goons?”

“Yeah.”

“But you said he wouldn’t be able to find us, Archer.”

“I know I did, but I’ve been thinking about that. I’m not sure I didn’t let it slip when I was in Reno about where I was headed. And the Delahaye sort of sticks out. And if you go to Hollywood and start making a name for yourself? He sure as hell knows what your name is. He would’ve gotten it from Howells. Mine too.”

“But then should we go to Bay Town, if he knows that’s where you’ll be?”

“I have to, Liberty. I want a shot at this job. And I told the guy I’d be coming.” Archer now looked uncertain. “But maybe you shouldn’t go to Bay Town. Maybe you should go to Hollywood, but change your name. All those folks do, right?”

“But if I get in pictures, he’ll recognize me, even if I change my name. Hell, he might even try to blackmail me.”

Archer nodded slowly. “That’s true. So what do you want to do?”

“I think we should stay together,” she said. “And go to Bay Town. I can hang around long enough to see if the guy shows up.”

“But you don’t have to do that. You can go lie low somewhere else.”

“And leave you all by your lonesome? What kind of a fink do you think I am?”

They sat in silence until their meals came. Archer was lost in thought and Callahan was lost in more Camels.

They ate and put down money for their bill. When the waitress came over to collect it, Archer asked if there was a place to stay the night.

“Yes, it’s right down the street, called the Coalinga House. They do overnights and they have vacancies right now. Knock hard, they might have gone to bed. Mildred Hawks is the owner’s name. She’s nice. Tell her Katy sent you.”

*

They walked out, got into the Delahaye, and drove the short distance to the Coalinga House. It was a broad plank-and-brick building with a porch down the front and a row of rocking chairs lined up like toy soldiers alongside little pots with fresh flowers. There was a concrete statue of a kitten playing cute on the first step up to the porch.

“Well, at least it doesn’t look like a place where we can get into too much trouble, Archer.”

The door was painted red and Archer had to pound on it for a full minute before they heard footsteps pecking on the floor toward them.

The door opened and there stood, presumably, Mildred. She was in her sixties with long, braided gray hair flipped over one granny-robed shoulder. She looked sleepy and annoyed at the same time.