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datatime: 2022-12-02 04:58:07 Author:lTZyirEA

"He mentioned it, yeah."

She reached over and took his hand. "Don't worry about your weird friend, he'll find his way back to Harney."

Lanie came out, still dripping. Already the purple ligature bars were fading.

"What for? He's long gone."

Decker had always been a sucker for fresh-out-of-the-shower women. With considerable effort he pushed ahead with purposeful conversation. "Dennis told you I was here."

"Those are first-rate," Decker said, but he had nothing more plausible to offer in the way of Skink theories. A bomber for the Weather Underground. Owsley's secret chemist. Lead singer for the Grass Roots. Take your pick.

Decker had always been a sucker for fresh-out-of-the-shower women. With considerable effort he pushed ahead with purposeful conversation. "Dennis told you I was here."

"Well, here we are," she said, a bit too brightly. "Another night, another motel. Decker, we're in a rut."

"Go ahead." Decker slumped back on the bed and closed his eyes. Soon he heard water running in the bathroom. He wished it were rain.

"He'll be fine," Lanie said. "Put him on a highway and he'll eat his way home."

"Well, don't get too damn excited," she said, scowling. She wrapped herself in the towel.

"What else did he mention?"

"Ah." Moody Blues. The man was a child of the Sixties.

"He didn't try to pork me, no," Lanie said, "and he didn't stick electrodes into my eyeballs, if that's what you mean. But he's still totally nuts."

"Well, don't get too damn excited," she said, scowling. She wrapped herself in the towel.

She reached over and took his hand. "Don't worry about your weird friend, he'll find his way back to Harney."

"He mentioned it, yeah."

"Just about Dickie and the tournament, that's all," Lanie said. She sat on the bed and crossed her legs. "What's with you? I came all this way and you act like I've got a disease."

"I could call the cops, you know."

"Well, don't get too damn excited," she said, scowling. She wrapped herself in the towel.

"Well, here we are," she said, a bit too brightly. "Another night, another motel. Decker, we're in a rut."

"Just about Dickie and the tournament, that's all," Lanie said. She sat on the bed and crossed her legs. "What's with you? I came all this way and you act like I've got a disease."

"Rough day," Decker said.

"Remember the last time?"

"He's a legend," Lanie said. She started unbuttoning Decker's shirt. "One rumor is he's a mass murderer from Oregon. Another says he's ex-CIA, helped kill Trujillo. One story goes he's hiding from the Warren Commission."

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