Moonlight was filtering through the bedroom drapes again as Tanya lay back
in the wide bed, massaging her breasts, her legs spread wide under the
sheet pulled up to her waist. Bob came in from the bathroom with
a towel around his middleand sank down into an easy chair.
“Wow,” he said, smiling tiredly. “I feel great.”
Tanya got up gingerly and went to poke into his duffel bag, and hold up
his .357 Magnum and his binoculars. “What’s all this, Bob?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed. She put the things back and went to sit on the rug in
front of him, putting her arm around his tanned legs and resting her head
against his knee.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “Spying on your friends? What
kind of crap is this?”
He tried a ploy. “Little girls with big mouths sometimes get clobbered,”
he said.
She peered up at him earnestly, trying to read his eyes in the half light.
“I’m not stupid,” she said. ”There’s a lot of stuff going down here, and
it’s dangerous. What do you need with all this?”
He rubbed his forehead and muttered something unintelligible.
“You’ve got some money,” she said. ”You want to die rich or something?
You’ve got enough to live on. What do you want to get involved for?
This Gonzales is a slime if I ever saw one. Joe and Marge are nice
people-- but even they want to get out. You’ve got enough. Why don’t
you just walk away?”
He rubbed his head, wondering. “You’re right,” he answered. “I could
but-- a few years more, and . . .”
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