A Gambling Man (Archer #2)(93)

“Why are you interested in her and Mr. Kemper?”

“Part of the business I’m doing with him.”

“You think he was messing around with her? He’s a married man.”

“He ever mess with you?”

She shook her head. “To tell you the truth, Archer, I think he’s in love with his wife.”

“You’re the first one to say that, and that includes him and his wife.”

“Some of the gals at work have given it their best shot with the man, and came away with zip for their troubles.”

“What about Sheen?”

“What about him?”

“You or the other girls ever make a run at him?”

“Maybe some of the other gals, but I don’t like to bake, Archer.”

“What does that mean?” he said with a puzzled expression.

“I don’t enjoy sticking my fingers in dough.” She let out a throaty laugh that was so spontaneous and unexpected that Archer couldn’t help but join her.

“Hey,” she said. “You look like a man who carries a pocket flask, and I need a drink.”

He pulled it out and handed it across. She took a long sip and screwed the top back on before handing it back to him.

She directed him to her place, a one-story bungalow on the fringes of Bay Town in a quiet tree-lined neighborhood of like abodes. Like much of Bay Town, it smacked of Spanish influence, with stucco walls, wrought iron railings that were starting to rust from the salt air and stain the stucco, and a peaked terra-cotta tile roof. The front door was dark oak with black, strappy metal adornments.

She slid the key in and Archer followed her inside.

“Nice place,” he said, looking around at the comfortable and plush furnishings, the colorful Oriental rug, the full mahogany bar set against one wall, with crystal glasses set on top and neat rows of bottles, along with a cocktail shaker and jigger set that looked well used.

She put her hat and purse on the coffee table and spun around to look at him, her fingers playing over the belt around her waist.

“I’m going to freshen up, help yourself to a drink. I’ve got cigarettes in that bowl over there.”

“Thanks. What can I have ready for you?”

“Oh, we’ll think of something when I get back.”

She departed the room and a minute later he heard the shower start.

Part of Archer wanted to just walk out the door. He was investigating a case that had to do with the man Darling was working for. He had observed her having sex with that man’s associate for reasons Archer did not yet know. Professionally, he told himself, it was better that he just walk away now.

But he didn’t. Because he wanted to find out why she’d slept with the man. At least Archer told himself that was the only reason.

He poured himself a bourbon neat, lit up a cigarette, and walked around the room. He eyed Darling’s purse and took a few moments to examine the contents. He was really getting into this shamus thing. There was a money clip with twenty bucks’ worth of mad money, the pack of Pall Malls, a small pewter hip flask about half full, a lighter with a D engraved on it, and several ivory boxes that were empty. And a nickel-plated .22 Derringer with oak grips. It was loaded with four bullets and hadn’t been recently fired, if Archer’s sense of smell was any indicator.

He heard the shower stop and he put the items back in the purse and placed it exactly where it had been before. He moved over to the window, where there was a single streetlamp burning brightly but trying and failing to break through the marine fog rolling in. This place reminded Archer of London. Some days you could barely see a foot in front of you.

He was still standing there looking out when she came back into the room.

Darling had on a robe that was even more transparent than Archer’s thoughts at the moment. Barefoot, she approached, a lioness to the lion, and it was not up for debate which would prevail.

“You freshen up better than anyone I know,” he began.

She took his drink from him and set it down. She pulled his cigarette from his lips and took a long drag on it before bending down and tapping it out in the ashtray.

“You don’t like to beat around the bush, I take it,” he said.

“Life’s short, so I don’t have time to waste.”

“You’re young.”

“We’re all young, Archer, right up to the minute we’re just a picture on the wall for someone to remember.”

She put her arms around him and pressed both her body and her lips against his.

“As soon as I saw you at the office, Archer, I started having thoughts about you.” She pulled away for a moment, looking at him. “You seem like you’d be good to a woman.”

“I try to be good to everyone.”

“You gonna kiss me back, or do I have to place an order for delivery?”

“You know, I am investigating a case.”

“Investigate me, as much as you want.”

“We probably shouldn’t be doing this.”

She kissed him so hard he tasted both the gin and the Lucky. It was an earthy combo. She took his hand and led him out of the room and into her bedroom, and there didn’t seem to be a thing Archer could do about it.

Darling let the robe fall to the floor. Though he had seen her naked with Sheen, the woman’s figure still left him breathless, particularly this close up. And there went any possibility of his walking out on her. What had Kemper said?