A Gambling Man (Archer #2)(92)



“Something to do with Kemper’s campaign. We’re helping him out.”

She said derisively, “If he can’t beat a damn dentist, he doesn’t deserve the job.”

“Right. So you come here often?”

“Once or maybe twice a week. For a drink, like I said.”

“You ever run across a gal named Ruby Fraser?”

“Was she the one who was killed here? I read about it in the paper.”

“She was. So, did you know her?”

She tapped her ash into the ashtray a little too hard. It was like a toddler banging his toy against the wall right before she went truly berserk.

“No, no I didn’t.”

“I spoke with Kemper earlier. He was here. We sat at this very table.”

Her eyes opened wider with interest. “Really? What did you talk about?”

“Just business. He said Wilson Sheen was here, too. Have you seen him? I think I spotted him a while ago. I wanted to talk to him as well.”

“Mr. Sheen? No, no, I haven’t seen him. If he was here, he might have left. I find he . . . tires easily.”

Archer observed she had to struggle to keep the smile off her face. Finally she looked away from him and drank her gin and tonic nearly to the bottom of the glass.

“Oh, that’s too bad. So how’s business?”

“We’re very busy. Mr. Kemper has his fingers in lots of pies.”

“Do you know his wife?”

“I’ve seen her.”

“She’s quite beautiful.”

“You know, Archer, the gal you’re with is the one you should be complimenting.”

He grinned. “Sorry. You don’t need me to tell you that you’re quite the looker.”

“That’s better. And I do need you to tell me.”

“Okay, you’re quite the looker. You stood out from the other gals in the office like a flamingo in the desert.”

“First time I’ve been compared to a flamingo, but I’ll take it. Even though those gals are younger than me, Archer?”

“Even though.”

She looked over his shoulder and her gaze caught on something.

When Archer turned to look, all he saw was a waitress setting down a shrimp cocktail in front of an old man with a gal half his age on his lap.

“You know them?” asked Archer.

“He’s a client of Mr. Kemper. Owns some property Kemper is trying to develop. His wife wouldn’t like what he’s doing right now.”

“I guess not.”

“So why do you want to talk to Sheen?”

“Part of the investigation. After this drink, I’m going to try to find him. He must be around here somewhere. I’ll roust him.”

She ran her eye up and down him to such an invasive degree that Archer felt his own cheeks start to burn.

“Why don’t we blow this joint, Archer? My place is only twenty minutes from here.”

“But what about Sheen?”

“Come by the office tomorrow. You can talk to him then. He’s there every day, and this time I won’t make you wait.”

“So what are we going to do at your place?”

She gave him a look that raised one distinct possibility. “If I can’t think of something and you can’t think of something, then something is very wrong, mister.”

“I’ve got a car.”

“Good, because I don’t.”

“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions along the way?”

“Not so long as we get to where we’re really going at the end.”





THIS IS YOUR CAR? REALLY?” she said as the valet brought it up.

Archer flipped the kid a quarter and held the door for her. “Yeah it is.”

“Shouldn’t I be getting in the other side?”

“The Brits do it differently from us,” he replied.

“So this is a British car?”

“No, it’s actually French, but it’s a long story and not that exciting.”

“Come on, where’d you get this ride?”

“Won it in a poker game back in Reno.”

“Wow, you must be really good,” she said. “Maybe I’ll find out.”

He smiled at her. “You know, you have a whole other persona at work.”

“At work, everyone has to be someone they’re not. I’m no exception. And I’m a gal who likes to have fun in her off-hours. All work and no play makes poor Wilma very dull indeed.”

“Okay.”

“So what questions do you have?”

“You ever see Kemper when you’re at Midnight Moods? I understand that he’s a regular.”

“I see him sometimes. He plays cards. They only let men in there.”

“Yeah, I saw that. How come?”

“They don’t want to lose to women, that’s how come.”

“You ever see him with Ruby Fraser?”

“How should I know? I don’t know what she looks like.”

Archer described the woman for her.

“Well, that sounds like half the women who work there,” she noted.

“Yeah, I guess it does.”

David Baldacci's Books