"And you? If you had enough money to get away from here, what would you do?"
"Live! I'm twenty-six. I know men go for me." She stared directly at him. "You go for me, don't you?"
"So what's that to do with it?"
"If I could get to Miami, I'd find a man and I'd squeeze every dollar out of him for services rendered. You know something? I thought this was the golden land of opportunity when I landed here three years ago. Was I green? I spent two months in New York in a Travel Agency, routing old jerks to Sweden. God! Was that a bore! Then I got a transfer down to Jacksonville: the same old bore. Then one day . . . my unlucky day . . . when I was fed up to my back teeth, I had to run into Ed, full of plans of starting up in the haulage business, owning his own truck, in a year owning two trucks, in four years a fleet of trucks . . . really in the money! So I married him! Okay, I asked for it and got it! We came here. 'Give me a year,' he said, `and you'll see. Let's rough it for a year, then I'll get another truck.' That's two years ago! And what a man! What a man to live with!" She looked directly at Johnny. "Are you on to him?"
"What does that mean?"
"He's kinky. High heels and whips. So we sleep apart. He gets his fun in Richville and I get my fun fishing!"
Johnny lifted his hands and let them fall heavily on his knees.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be." She got to her feet. "Come on, lodger. You want me and I need a man. This time it's for free. Next time, it'll cost you. I've got to save money and get out of here or I'll damn well drown myself."
Johnny remained seated.
"I want you, Freda, but not on those terms," he said, quietly. "I've never paid for it and I never will."
She stared at him, then she smiled.
"I think I'm going to like you, Johnny," she said. "I think you're all man. No conditions . . . let's see how good you really are."
He got up and putting his arm around her waist, cupping her heavy breast, he went with her into his tiny bedroom.
"What's the time?"
Her voice sounded lazy and sleepy.
Johnny lifted his wrist. It was a few minutes after 15.00. She lay naked, her body on his, her blonde head half on his shoulder and half on the pillow.
"Just after three."
"Oh, damn! I must go to the village." She swung off him and on
to her feet, standing, looking down at him.
He looked up, feasting his eyes on her suntanned body. He reached up to touch her, but she moved out of his reach.
"Do you want to come with me?"
He very nearly said he would, then he remembered it would be safer to keep out of sight, to keep away from the village.
"I guess I'll stay: What have you got to go for?"
"The mail if any and the newspaper. Ed likes the newspaper."
"Anything I can do while you're away?"
"You've done enough." She smiled down at him. "You're not much to look at but you know how to satisfy a woman."
"Good?"
"Hmmm."
She went away and reaching for a cigarette Johnny lit up, then relaxed on the bed.
She had been good too, he thought: starving for it. He lay there, thinking about her for the next half hour, then getting off the bed, he took a swim.
He was dressed and sitting on the deck when she returned in the motorboat. The time now was 16.30. He helped her scramble up on deck, then tied up the boat.
"Want to see the paper?" She offered it to him. "I'll stuff the bass," and she left him.
Newspapers seldom interested Johnny except to read the Sport's news. He glanced at the headlines, found nothing to hold his attention, turned to page two, paused to read an account of a girl who had been found raped and murdered, grimaced, then flicked through the rest of the pages until he came to the funnies. He read "Peanuts" and grinned, then as he was turning to the Sports' page a headline caught his eyes.
HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN?
$10,000 Reward
Then with a sudden cold sick feeling he saw his own photograph.
With shaking hands he read the letterpress.
Dyson & Dyson! Carlo Tanza's attorneys!
Had Freda seen this? He decided by the way the newspaper was folded when she handed it to him she hadn't opened it.
With sweat beads on his face, he studied the photograph. It had been taken some twenty years ago: a prison shot and yet there was a likeness. His hand went to his beard. No! No one could recognize him from this photograph!
Known to favour a St. Christopher medal.
The cunning bastards!
She had seen the medal!
He looked furtively over his shoulder, his heart thumping. She wanted money! Ten thousand dollars would be more than tempting! All she had to do was to get over to the village and call Dyson & Dyson. They would be in his lap within twenty-four hours and that would be his end!
What to do?
His first reaction was to destroy the newspaper, but that wouldn't help. He knew enough of Tanza's thoroughness to be sure the ad would run a week . . . even longer. Sooner or later, either Scott or Freda would see
Get out fast?
He was miles from any place. If he left it would have to be in the dark. It must be a good ten miles down to the freeway and in the dark, he could get hopelessly lost.
Could he trust her? Could he trust anyone?
"Who's offering ten thousand dollars?"
She had come up silently behind him and was leaning over his shoulder. He sat rigid, wanting to crumple the newspaper and throw it in the lake, but fear paralysed him. He watched her hand take the paper from his grasp.
"Ten thousand dollars! Could I use money like that!" She came around and sat by his side.
He watched her read the letterpress and he knew at once when she came to the fatal line: Known to favour a St. Christopher medal. He saw her stiffen, stare at the photograph, then look at him.
"Is this you?" she asked and tapped the photograph.
Johnny hesitated, then he said huskily, "Yes."
"Have you lost your memory?"
He shook his head.
"Who are these people . . . Dyson & Dyson?"
His tongue touched his dry lips.
"Mafia people," he said, watching her.
Her eyes widened.
"Mafia?"
"That's right."
She put down the paper.
"I don't understand," and he could see she was shaken, but not so shaken that it curtailed her curiosity.
"You don't want to understand."
"Are you a mafioso?"
"No."
"Then why are they offering all this money?"
"They want to find me and kill me," Johnny said quietly.
She flinched.
"Kill you? Why?"