Maybe.

But more important, what the hell was he doing? What was his angle? What did he want from Gloria? Laura had hit a raw nerve when she asked him about that. The truth was he was no longer sure what he was doing. He could score big bucks – major, major bucks – and hightail his ass out of here. He could score like he had never scored before and disappear into the sunset. But for some strange reason he stayed. He was out of money with the perfect opportunity to get his hands on plenty, but he chose not to.

Why?

What the hell was wrong with him? He should have dumped her already. He should have squeezed out every last dollar and been on his way, crushing Gloria’s fragile spirit, leaving her crying or worse. But no, he had decided to stay around a while.

The phone interrupted their dinner. ‘I’ll get it,’ Gloria said.

‘No, it’s probably for me,’ Stan said. ‘I’ll just take it in the bedroom.’

Stan stood and moved into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He knew who was on the other end of the connection. Dread filled him. He swallowed and lifted the receiver. ‘Hello?’

‘Stan My Man, how are you?’

Stan recognized the voice instantly. His face sunk. ‘Hello, B Man.’

‘Is that how you greet a good friend?’ B Man asked. ‘I’m insulted, Stan, really I am.’

‘We’re in the middle of dinner.’

‘Oh how sweet,’ he said. ‘How perfectly domestic of you. I’m really impressed, Stan. What are you going to do after you eat, go out back and mow the lawn?’

Stan closed his eyes. ‘What’s up?’

‘Not much,’ B Man said. ‘That’s why I was calling you. Your contact tells me you haven’t placed a bet in three days.’

‘So?’

‘So you’re only two thousand down,’ B Man continued. ‘I usually don’t cut you off until you reach the forty thousand mark.’

‘I just haven’t seen anything I’ve liked lately.’

‘Save it, Stan,’ the blonde bookie snarled. ‘This is B Man you’re talking to. You haven’t missed a day of betting in ten years.’

‘So I’ve decided to take some time off. What’s wrong with that?’

B Man laughed. ‘You don’t get it, do you, Stan? You just can’t up and quit.’

‘Who said anything about quitting?’

‘Come on, Stan. Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. Guys like you don’t take time off. You’re trying to quit.’

‘And what if I am?’

‘Why waste your time, Stan? You know you can’t do it.’

‘Why do you say that?’

B Man sighed. ‘Stan, I’ve known plenty of guys like you. You’re an addict. You can’t quit. I understand what you’re trying to do. You met this chick. You kind of like her, right?’

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Stan said. ‘She’s just another bimbo.’

‘Sure, right. Whatever you say, Stan. Anyway, you’re starting to like the simple life. You want to move out of the fast, dangerous lane for a while. But Stan, you’re not the type. Eventually, you’ll move back into the dangerous lane and pow! You’ll smash your car. You’re a screw-up, Stan. You can’t change.’

‘Leave me alone, B.’

‘I will, Stan, because I know you’ll be back. You’ll look in tomorrow’s paper and see a horse in the third that’s a sure thing. Or you’ll find a football game with a point spread that’s just too juicy to pass up. Then the itch will come back and it will be so bad that you’ll have to scratch. And once you scratch, you’ll scratch again and again -

‘Shut up!’

‘ – and I’ll be right there to help you tear away at your skin, Stan. Your old buddy B Man will be waiting with open arms and sharp claws.’

Stan’s upper lip quivered. ‘Just shut up!’

‘I don’t like being yelled at,’ B Man warned, his voice low. ‘I don’t like it at all. Maybe I’ll have to teach you a little lesson, Stan.’

‘No, B – ’

‘Maybe I should pull your broken finger right out of the socket,’ B Man continued. ‘Or maybe I’ll just grab your little blonde girlfriend, tie her down to a bed, and let Bart and a few of his buddies take turns on her. How does that sound?’

Stan’s eyes flew open. ‘I… I’m sorry, B Man. I didn’t mean any disrespect.’

B Man’s laugh chilled him. ‘I know, Stan, I know. Give me a call when you feel the urge. In the meantime, enjoy your brief moments of joy. People like you don’t get to experience this very often. When you’re ready to go back to your home in the gutter, we’ll be waiting to assist you.’

The phone went dead. Stan turned. Gloria was standing in the doorway. ‘Is everything okay?’ she asked.

He went to her and held her closely. ‘Everything is fine,’ he said.

She looked up at him. ‘You’ve really given up gambling, haven’t you?’

‘Yes,’ Stan said, and though it was the truth, he knew that B Man was right, that eventually it would be a lie.

18

It had been the Garden of Eden. Then it became Hell. The transformation had been sudden. One moment, the Reef Resort Hotel was an idyllic honeymoon hideaway; the next, it was death. Staring at it now, the Reef Resort Hotel became hazy and unreal to Laura, as though she was seeing it in a dream. The building and grounds were all so familiar. She saw the bush, the gardens, the lobby – even the sunburned receptionist behind the desk. Laura remembered him well. He had handed her the last note David had ever written.

‘Mrs Baskin!’ the sunburned man cried out when he saw her. ‘How nice to see you again!’

Laura smiled through her daze and shook the man’s hand. ‘Nice to see you.’

‘Will you be staying long?’

Graham stepped between them. ‘Only a few minutes.’

‘How you doin’, Sheriff?’

‘Very well, Monty. You?’

‘Can’t complain,’ he replied. ‘Something I can do for you?’

Graham must have been a foot taller than Monty. He stared down at the smaller man. ‘Do you remember the day David Baskin disappeared?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ the receptionist answered. ‘What about it?’

‘He handed you a note before he left, right?’

‘Sure did,’ Monty confirmed. ‘Christ, that note was a regular riot. You remember it, Mrs Baskin? I read it to you over the phone when you called in. I was never so embarrassed in my life.’

‘Then what happened?’ Graham asked.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Did David return to the hotel?’

Monty nodded. ‘Yeah, like I told Mrs Baskin. He came back for a little.’

‘And then he left again?’

‘Right.’ Monty said.

‘How long was he back?’ Graham asked.

‘Oh, I don’t know. About an hour.’

‘What time did Mr Baskin leave the hotel the second time?’

Monty thought a moment. ‘Can’t say for sure. Mr Baskin took off right after he got a phone call.’

Graham and Laura exchanged glances. ‘What phone call?’ Graham asked.

Monty shrugged. ‘Don’t rightly know really. I was doing the switchboard when a call came in for him. I just transferred the call to his room. Mr Baskin came down and rushed out of here a few minutes later.’

Graham wetted his lips. ‘Can you tell me about the voice of the caller?’

‘About the voice?’

‘Sex, accent, anything.’

Monty thought a minute. ‘Well, I don’t remember the voice all that well. It was a long time ago. The only reason I remember it at all is because Mr Baskin was a celebrity and after I let the call go through, I kicked myself for not screening it for him. I mean, it could have been some reporter or obnoxious fan. But anyway, all the person said was “Mr Baskin’s room, please.” But I kinda remember the voice was hushed. Was it a man or a woman? Can’t say for sure. But it was a Yankee accent all right. You can’t hide that, no matter how hard you try.’

‘Anything else?’

Monty shook his head. ‘Oh, wait. One more thing. The call was local.’

‘How could you tell?’

‘The lines in this hotel are terrible when a call comes from overseas. But there was no static on the line. The call had to have been made from right around here.’