Mean Streak

In a week full of surprises, Jeff received the most unpleasant one of all when he pulled open the door of the suite to find Alice standing on the threshold, fist raised, about to knock.

 

“Alice. How untimely. What are you doing here?”

 

“I thought we should talk.”

 

“Not now. I’m on my way out.”

 

“Now, Jeff.” She nudged him aside as she stepped into the entry. Noticing that he was already dressed for outdoors, she asked, “Where were you off to?”

 

Frowning, he checked his wristwatch. “I’ll give you five minutes. People are waiting for me.”

 

“What people?”

 

“Those hillbilly brothers.”

 

“The ones Emory tangled with?”

 

“Yes. That lot. Emory and Hayes Bannock are the sister’s champions. I thought if anything would lure them out, it would be she.”

 

“What are you talking about? What have you done?”

 

“Doesn’t matter. It’s Sir Bannock to the rescue.”

 

“What about Emory?”

 

“Hopefully she will be with her cavalier. If not, Norman assured me he’ll happily work on him until he gives over where he’s stashed her. Besides, I think it’s time I met her mystery man.”

 

“You described these brothers as reprobates.”

 

“They are.”

 

“But you’ve cooked up a scheme with them? Have you gone mad?”

 

“No.”

 

“I think you must have, Jeff. Whatever your plan is, it could go terribly wrong.”

 

“I’m prepared for that eventuality.”

 

He opened his coat and showed her an inside pocket. She gaped at him. “You have a gun? You?”

 

“I have a gun. Me.” He removed the revolver from the pocket and balanced it in his palm. “Small but trusty.”

 

She walked over to the sofa and sat down, rubbing her temples as though they ached. “This is insane. If there’s any kind of fracas, Emory could be harmed or killed.”

 

“And whose fault would that be?” he said. “Her own. Why does she remain everyone’s cause célèbre? All of this, everything that’s happened, she brought upon herself.”

 

She looked at him, her expression wary and accusatory.

 

Abruptly he turned away. “I’ve got to go.”

 

“Where’s the charm on your zipper pull?”

 

He came back around. “What?”

 

“Last Friday night when you arrived at my house, you were wearing that jacket. I remarked on it, how attractive you looked in it. You bragged on it being new and told me how much it had set you back. Remember?”

 

“I’m not senile, Alice.”

 

“It had a recognizable designer logo dangling from the zipper. It’s not there now.”

 

“I lost it.”

 

“Where?”

 

“If I knew where, it wouldn’t be lost.” With impatience, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Anything else on your mind this morning?”

 

“You and I. We’re over?”

 

“I thought I’d made that clear last night.”

 

“You did. But I wanted to hear it from you in person.”

 

“Consider it heard.” He motioned toward the door. “I’ll see you out, then I need to get on my way.”

 

She stood up shakily. “I’m not feeling well. I need the bathroom.”

 

He sighed. “Top of the stairs through the bedroom. Hurry, please.”

 

“Go,” she said tearfully. “I’ll be sure the door is locked when I leave.”

 

 

 

 

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