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but she had a tub of popcorn placed firmly on her lap, making sure he could get most of the way down the third base line but not quite to home plate. He was trying to go higher, which was annoying because she wanted to see the end of the movie and find out what was in the Lost Ark. So . . .
2
    At 2 p.m. on a weekday, the movie theater was almost deserted, but three people sat two rows back from Andi Steiner and her date. Two men, one quite old and one appearing on the edge of middle age (but appearances could be deceiving), flanked a woman of startling beauty. Her cheekbones were high, her eyes were gray, her complexion creamy. Her masses of black hair were tied back with a broad velvet ribbon. Usually she wore a hat—an old and battered tophat—but she had left it in her motorhome this day. You didn’t wear a tall topper in a movie theater. Her name was Rose O’Hara, but the nomadic family she traveled with called her Rose the Hat.
    The man edging into middle age was Barry Smith. Although one hundred percent Caucasian, he was known in this same family as Barry the Chink, because of his slightly upturned eyes.
    â€œNow watch this,” he said. “It’s interesting.”
    â€œThe movie’s interesting,” the old man—Grampa Flick—grunted. But that was just his usual contrariness. He was also watching the couple two rows down.
    â€œIt better be interesting,” Rose said, “because the woman’s not all that steamy. A little, but—”
    â€œThere she goes, there she goes,” Barry said as Andi leaned over and put her lips to her date’s ear. Barry was grinning, the box of gummy bears in his hand forgotten. “I’ve watched her do it three times and I still get a kick out of it.”
3
    Mr. Businessman’s ear was filled with a thatch of wiry white hairs and clotted with wax the color of shit, but Andi didn’t let that stop her; she wanted to blow this town and her finances were at a dangerously low ebb. “Aren’t you tired?” she whispered in the disgusting ear. “Don’t you want to go to sleep?”
    The man’s head immediately dropped onto his chest and he began to snore. Andi reached under her skirt, plucked up the relaxing hand, and placed it on the armrest. Then she reached into Mr. Businessman’s expensive-looking suitcoat and began to rummage. His wallet was in the inside left pocket. That was good. She wouldn’t have to make him get up off his fat ass. Once they were asleep, moving them could be tricky.
    She opened the wallet, tossed the credit cards on the floor, and looked for a few moments at the pictures—Mr. Businessman with a bunch of other overweight Mr. Businessmen on the golf course; Mr. Businessman with his wife; a much younger Mr. Businessman standing in front of a Christmas tree with his son and two daughters. The daughters were wearing Santa hats and matching dresses. He probably hadn’t been raping them, but it was not out of the question. Men would rape when they could get away with it, this she had learned. At her father’s knee, so to speak.
    There was over two hundred dollars in the bill compartment. She had been hoping for even more—the bar where she had met him catered to a better class of whore than those out by the airport—but it wasn’t bad for a Thursday matinee, and there were alwaysmen who wanted to take a good-looking girl to the movies, where a little heavy petting would only be the appetizer. Or so they hoped.
4
    â€œOkay,” Rose murmured, and started to get up. “I’m convinced. Let’s give it a shot.”
    But Barry put a hand on her arm, restraining her. “No, wait. Watch. This is the best part.”
5
    Andi leaned close to the disgusting ear again and whispered, “Sleep deeper. As deep as you can. The pain you feel will only be a dream.” She opened her purse and took out a pearl-handled knife. It was