done better as a blonde. Right, Phil?” Phil grunted. Dan said, “Phil narrowly escaped being her second husband.”
“She’s on her third now,” said Phil.
Rachel smiled. “And is that Tommy Swanson I see walking in there?”
“It is. He and Linnea have five kids.”
“Linnea Hanson? You’re kidding me.”
“Nope. She weighs about three hundred pounds now.”
“God. She was so pretty, too. And is that . . . Is that Luci Seifert there, by the door?”
“Yup. You notice how all the guys kind of snap to attention when she walks in.” The woman in question was a well-lacquered brunette with expensive hair and very tight jeans, tottering a little on spike-heeled boots.
Rachel rolled her eyes. “She is . . . nicely preserved.”
“If you say so. We don’t notice things like that at our age, do we, fellas?”
This brought a rumble of half-hearted merriment from the row. “Nice heels,” said Rachel.
“And they’re still as round as ever,” said Dan, and the laughter was full-throated this time.
“Goodness, aren’t we catty tonight,” said Rachel. “Who’s the lucky beau?” The man trailing after Luci was thin and blond, with a face that showed some mileage and possibly traces of a few thousand drinks. He wore a long double-breasted coat with a fleece collar, and jeans disappearing into a pair of alligator cowboy boots that must have cost five hundred dollars.
Dan grunted and she glanced at him, sensing a drop in the temperature. “We don’t talk about him.”
“We just take potshots at him,” said Phil, making a pistol with his hand and squeezing off an imaginary shot.
“Why, because he’s sleeping with Luci and you’re not?”
“Whoaaa,” said Dan, leaning away from her. “Who’s catty now?”
Sheepish, Rachel grinned. “Sorry. I’m just wondering why this guy’s so unpopular.”
“ ’Cause he’s a fucking crook,” said Phil.
“Watch your language,” said Dan. To Rachel he said, “Because he’s a miserable low-down piece of shit.”
“OK,” said Rachel. “I give up. What’d he do?”
Dan and Phil traded a look and Phil shrugged. Dan said, “That there’s Mark McDonald. He’s not real popular with the farmers around here because he swindled a lot of them out of their money a few years back.”
“How’d he do that?”
“He used to run the elevator up at Kalmar. Come to find out, about ninety-nine or so, instead of running it like it should be run, he and his boss were playing the commodities market up in Chicago. With our money. When the Department of Agriculture shut ’em down they had something like a million bushels in positions on the market. That’s way over the limit for an outfit like that. And they were losing the bets, and trying to cover up by getting in deeper. So of course they got shut down and went bust, and a lot of people around here lost a lot of fuckin’ money.”
“Me for one,” said Phil. “Could have been a lot worse, without the insurance, but it was bad enough to ruin my damn year.”
Rachel watched McDonald run a jaded eye over the crowd, apparently unconcerned about potshots real or imaginary, before settling onto the bleachers next to Luci. “Why isn’t he in jail?”
“He was. He got out a year or so ago. What happened was, he pleaded guilty to destroying records and cut a deal to testify against his boss. So he only did two or three years, though what I heard was that the whole thing was his idea. I think the boss is still inside.”
“Jeez, you’d think he’d be afraid to show his face around here.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t you? But he moved back here and got a job and he’s been pretending to be an upstanding citizen. But I don’t think anyone’s gonna buy the bastard a drink anytime soon.” Dan pointed with his chin. “Remember Bobby there?”
“Bobby Jacobs? Sure. I wouldn’t have recognized him. He doesn’t look like the years have been too kind.”
“Well, he’s had some knocks. His son got
“She’s on her third now,” said Phil.
Rachel smiled. “And is that Tommy Swanson I see walking in there?”
“It is. He and Linnea have five kids.”
“Linnea Hanson? You’re kidding me.”
“Nope. She weighs about three hundred pounds now.”
“God. She was so pretty, too. And is that . . . Is that Luci Seifert there, by the door?”
“Yup. You notice how all the guys kind of snap to attention when she walks in.” The woman in question was a well-lacquered brunette with expensive hair and very tight jeans, tottering a little on spike-heeled boots.
Rachel rolled her eyes. “She is . . . nicely preserved.”
“If you say so. We don’t notice things like that at our age, do we, fellas?”
This brought a rumble of half-hearted merriment from the row. “Nice heels,” said Rachel.
“And they’re still as round as ever,” said Dan, and the laughter was full-throated this time.
“Goodness, aren’t we catty tonight,” said Rachel. “Who’s the lucky beau?” The man trailing after Luci was thin and blond, with a face that showed some mileage and possibly traces of a few thousand drinks. He wore a long double-breasted coat with a fleece collar, and jeans disappearing into a pair of alligator cowboy boots that must have cost five hundred dollars.
Dan grunted and she glanced at him, sensing a drop in the temperature. “We don’t talk about him.”
“We just take potshots at him,” said Phil, making a pistol with his hand and squeezing off an imaginary shot.
“Why, because he’s sleeping with Luci and you’re not?”
“Whoaaa,” said Dan, leaning away from her. “Who’s catty now?”
Sheepish, Rachel grinned. “Sorry. I’m just wondering why this guy’s so unpopular.”
“ ’Cause he’s a fucking crook,” said Phil.
“Watch your language,” said Dan. To Rachel he said, “Because he’s a miserable low-down piece of shit.”
“OK,” said Rachel. “I give up. What’d he do?”
Dan and Phil traded a look and Phil shrugged. Dan said, “That there’s Mark McDonald. He’s not real popular with the farmers around here because he swindled a lot of them out of their money a few years back.”
“How’d he do that?”
“He used to run the elevator up at Kalmar. Come to find out, about ninety-nine or so, instead of running it like it should be run, he and his boss were playing the commodities market up in Chicago. With our money. When the Department of Agriculture shut ’em down they had something like a million bushels in positions on the market. That’s way over the limit for an outfit like that. And they were losing the bets, and trying to cover up by getting in deeper. So of course they got shut down and went bust, and a lot of people around here lost a lot of fuckin’ money.”
“Me for one,” said Phil. “Could have been a lot worse, without the insurance, but it was bad enough to ruin my damn year.”
Rachel watched McDonald run a jaded eye over the crowd, apparently unconcerned about potshots real or imaginary, before settling onto the bleachers next to Luci. “Why isn’t he in jail?”
“He was. He got out a year or so ago. What happened was, he pleaded guilty to destroying records and cut a deal to testify against his boss. So he only did two or three years, though what I heard was that the whole thing was his idea. I think the boss is still inside.”
“Jeez, you’d think he’d be afraid to show his face around here.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t you? But he moved back here and got a job and he’s been pretending to be an upstanding citizen. But I don’t think anyone’s gonna buy the bastard a drink anytime soon.” Dan pointed with his chin. “Remember Bobby there?”
“Bobby Jacobs? Sure. I wouldn’t have recognized him. He doesn’t look like the years have been too kind.”
“Well, he’s had some knocks. His son got
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