Unknown Man #89 by Elmore Leonard

Author:Elmore Leonard
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Mystery & Detective, Process - Michigan - Detroit, Westerns, General, Literary, Mystery fiction, Process (Law), Suspense, Detroit (Mich.), Fiction
ISBN: 9780060082215
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2002-05-16T04:00:00+00:00

19

* * *

THEY WENT TO FLORIDA. Ryan was going to drive, but changed his mind heading south on 75 and made the turn to Detroit Metropolitan, got them seats on a Delta flight to Lauderdale and a Budget Rent a Car to Pompano Beach, a Pinto without air, and by seven o’clock that evening they were in an efficiency at the Vista Del Mar with groceries, new bathing outfits, thongs, and Coppertone, looking out at the Atlantic Ocean.

“There,” Ryan said. “No more thinking for a week. Whoever mentions Perez or the stock or anything connected with it has to put five bucks in the kitty.”

Denise looked around the room, from the picture window to the flowered rattan chairs to the twin beds, against opposite walls, that featured tailored beige spreads and bolsters that disguised them as sofas. Forty-five dollars a day including color TV and the ocean view. What more could you want? Ryan said.

Denise said, “What I’d like more than anything is a glass of wine.”

Ryan went into the kitchen and dug into a grocery bag. He came back out with a bottle of Blue Nun and two jelly glasses.

“You mean it?” Denise said.

“If the corkscrew works,” Ryan said. He took it out of his coat pocket.

Denise watched him twist it into the cork. “You’re gonna have one, too?”

“So you won’t have to drink alone,” Ryan said. He got the cork out. Pouring the wine, he said, “It’s not cold, though.”

“I don’t care.” She took the glass he offered, with yellow daisies on it, and said, “Jesus, I don’t believe it.” Then took a drink and closed her eyes and opened them. “Jesus,” she said again, and watched Ryan sip his wine. “Why’re you doing this?”

“I guess—I don’t know,” he said. “I guess I want us to be like normal everyday people on a vacation. Not think—I don’t mean get drunk and not think. I mean not worry about anything, relax, and have a good time. We can have the steak and a salad, I thought, instead of getting dressed and going out someplace.”

“That sounds fine.”

“I got a bottle of red, too, we can have with the steak.”

“I didn’t see you get the wine.”

“No, well—we can have this before, then the red with dinner. You want to fix it, or you want me to?”

“No, I’ll do it.”

“You feel okay?”

“I feel fine. This morning, it seems like a long time ago,” Denise said. “I was going to take a shower, unless you want to eat right away.”

“No, go ahead,” Ryan said. “We’re not in any hurry. We’re on our vacation.”

They were polite, but it didn’t seem forced. That was the idea, to be natural.

Ryan went outside with his wine. He turned on the orange light by the door, then turned it off again and sat down in a deck chair, propping his feet on the low wall that separated the patio area from the empty beach. It was a good time of the day: alone, feeling the breeze and listening to the ocean as it came in out of the darkness and broke and washed in forty yards away.

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