A Deadly Shade of Gold Read Online Free PDF Page A

friends gently and firmly led him away from the game, he was trying forlornly to swing a loan on the Brazilian. With cash and houseboat gone, it would seem that his title to that particular asset was clouded.
    I could guess that she had been a very clean girl. Other than that, she was either a very large girl or a very gregarious one.
    I thundered hot water into the big tub, setting up McGee's Handy Home Treatment for Melancholy. A deep hot bath, and a strong cold drink, and a book on the tub rack. Who needs the Megrims? Surely not McGee, not that big brown loose-jointed, wirehaired beach rambler, that lazy fish-catching, girlwatching, grey-eyed iconoclastic hustler. Stay happy, McGee, while you use up the stockpiled cash. Borrow a Junior from Meyer for the sake of coziness. Or get dressed and go over to the next dock, over to the big Wheeler where the Alabama Tiger maintains his permanent floating house party and join the festive pack. Do anything, but stop remembering the way Sam Taggart looks with all the wandering burned out of him. Stop remembering the sly shy way Nicki would walk toward you, across a room. Stop remembering the way Lois died. Get in there and have fun, fella. While there's fun to have. While there's some left. Before they deal you out.
    Four
    THE INSISTENT bong of the bell awakened me. I stared at the clock dial. Quarter after midnight. I hadn't gone out at all. I had read my book, gotten slightly tight, broiled myself a small steak, and baked myself a large potato, watched the late news and weather and gone to bed.
    I put a robe on and went out through the lounge and put the afterdeck lights on. I looked out and saw Nora Gardino rehooking my gangplank chain. She came aboard and swept by me and into the lounge and turned on me, one fist on her hip, her eyes narrow. "Where is he?"
    I yawned and rubbed my eyes. "For God's sake!"
    "You know Beanie, over at the Mart."

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    "Yes, I know Beanie."
    "She called me, over an hour ago. Maybe an hour and a half. She said she saw Sam about eight o'clock over at the Howard Johnson's. She was sure it was him."
    "Can I fix you a drink, Nora?"
    "Don't change the subject. Where is he? You said he wouldn't get here until tomorrow."
    "So I lied."
    "Why? Why?"
    "Settle down, honey. He had a little matter to take care of first."
    "I called you and called you, and then I decided you'd turned the phone off again, so I came on over. I want to see him, Travis."
    "He wants to see you. Tomorrow."
    She shook her head. "No. Now. Where is he?" She stood there staring at me, tapping her foot.
    She wore flannel slacks, a yellow turtleneck sweater, a pale leather hip-length coat over the sweater, swinging open. She looked fervently, hotly, indignantly alive.
    "Let him set it up his own way, Nora."
    "I am not going to wait through this night, believe me. It's ridiculous. The time to have it out is right now. Where is he?"
    "I don't know."
    "Travis!"
    I yawned again. "Okay, okay, honey. Let me get dressed. I'll take you there."
    "Just tell me where."
    I was tempted, but then I thought that Sam Taggart would be sore as hell if I let her go to that fusty little cabin without warning, bust in on him in the midst of that kind of squalor without warning. The best way I could retrieve it would be to have her wait out in the car and go get him and warn him and send him on out to her. As a matter of fact, as a penalty against myself, or a gesture of friendship, I could turn over the Busted Flush for the reunion, and stay in his little Mount Vernon.
    I dressed quickly, woke myself up by honking into double handfuls of cold water, locked up, went out with her and woke up Miss Agnes. Nora sat very perky and alert beside me.
    "What was it he had to take care of?"
    "I'll let him tell you that."

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    "When did he arrive?"
    "This afternoon, late."
    "How does he look?"
    "Fine. Just fine. He's in great shape."
    I drove over to Route 1 and turned left. She was as rigid as a toy with the spring