ever live to spend the money.
9
Bobo Justus had wavy, iron-gray hair and a deeply tanned, chiseled-looking face. He was a small man, short that is, but he had the head and torso of a six-footer. Knowing his sensitivity about his height, Lilly was grateful for her flat-heeled shoes. That was one thing in her favor at least. But she doubted that it would count for much, judging by his expression.
He addressed her tonelessly, his lips barely moving.
"You goddamned silly-looking pig! Driving a goddamned circus wagon! Why don't you paint a bull'seye on it? Hang a couple of cowbells on the bumper?"
"Now, Bo. Convertibles are quite common in California."
"Convertibles are quite common in California," he mimicked her, weaving his shoulders prissily. "Are they as common as two-timing, double-crossing whores? Hah? Are they, you sneaky little slut?"
"Bo"-she looked around quickly. "Hadn't we better go some place private?"
He drew back a hand as though to slap her, then gave her a shove toward the car. "Get with it," he said. "The Beverly Hills. I get you alone, and I'm going to pop every pimple on your pretty pink butt!"
She started the car and drove out through the gate. As they joined the stream of town-bound traffic, he resumed his tight-lipped abuse.
Lilly listened attentively, trying to decide whether he was building up steam or letting it off. Probably the last, she guessed, since it had been almost three weeks since her blunder. Murderously angry, he probably would have taken action before this.
Most of the time she was silent, making no response except when it was asked for or seemed urgently indicated.
"… told you to watch that fifth race, didn't I? And, by God, you really watched it, didn't you? I bet you stood there grinning clear to your ankles while the dog comes in at a hundred-and-forty per!"
"Bo, I-"
"How much did your pals cut you in for, huh? Or did they give you the same kind of screwing you gave me? What the hell are you, anyway-a stud-horse with tits?"
"I was down on the nag," Lilly said quietly. "You know I was, Bo. After all, you wouldn't have wanted me to bet it off the board."
"You were down on it, huh? Now, I'll ask you just one question. Do you want to stick to that story, or do you want to keep your teeth?"
"I want to keep my teeth."
"Now, I'll ask you one more question. Do you think I got no contacts out here? You think I couldn't get a report on the play on that horse?"
"No, I don't think that. I'm sure you could, Bo."
"That nag paid off at just the opening price. There wasn't hardly a flutter on the tote board from the time the odds were posted." He lit a cigarette, took a couple of quick angry puffs. "What kind of crap you handing me anyway, Lilly? There ain't enough action to tickle the tote, but you claim a five-grand win! Now, how about it, huh? You ready to fly straight or not?"
She drew in a deep breath. Hesitated. Nodded. There was only one thing to do now, to tell the truth and hope for the best.
She did so. Justus sat turned in the seat; studying, analyzing her expression throughout the recital. When she had finished, he faced back around again, sat in deadpan silence for several minutes.
"So you were just stupid," he said. "Asleep at the switch. You think I'm going to buy that?"
Lilly nodded evenly. He'd already bought it, she said, three weeks ago; suspected the truth before he was told. "You know you did, Bo. If you hadn't, I'd be dead by now."
"Maybe you will be yet, sister! Maybe you'll wish you was dead."
"Maybe."
"I laid out better than a hundred yards for a screwing. Just about the highest-priced piece of tail in history. I figure on getting what I paid for."
"Then you'd better do some more figuring," Lilly said. "I'm not that kind of punching bag."
"Real sure about that, are you?"
"Positive. Give me a cigarette, please."
He took a cigarette from his package, and tossed it across the seat. She picked it up, and tossed it back to him.
"Light it please, Bo?
9
Bobo Justus had wavy, iron-gray hair and a deeply tanned, chiseled-looking face. He was a small man, short that is, but he had the head and torso of a six-footer. Knowing his sensitivity about his height, Lilly was grateful for her flat-heeled shoes. That was one thing in her favor at least. But she doubted that it would count for much, judging by his expression.
He addressed her tonelessly, his lips barely moving.
"You goddamned silly-looking pig! Driving a goddamned circus wagon! Why don't you paint a bull'seye on it? Hang a couple of cowbells on the bumper?"
"Now, Bo. Convertibles are quite common in California."
"Convertibles are quite common in California," he mimicked her, weaving his shoulders prissily. "Are they as common as two-timing, double-crossing whores? Hah? Are they, you sneaky little slut?"
"Bo"-she looked around quickly. "Hadn't we better go some place private?"
He drew back a hand as though to slap her, then gave her a shove toward the car. "Get with it," he said. "The Beverly Hills. I get you alone, and I'm going to pop every pimple on your pretty pink butt!"
She started the car and drove out through the gate. As they joined the stream of town-bound traffic, he resumed his tight-lipped abuse.
Lilly listened attentively, trying to decide whether he was building up steam or letting it off. Probably the last, she guessed, since it had been almost three weeks since her blunder. Murderously angry, he probably would have taken action before this.
Most of the time she was silent, making no response except when it was asked for or seemed urgently indicated.
"… told you to watch that fifth race, didn't I? And, by God, you really watched it, didn't you? I bet you stood there grinning clear to your ankles while the dog comes in at a hundred-and-forty per!"
"Bo, I-"
"How much did your pals cut you in for, huh? Or did they give you the same kind of screwing you gave me? What the hell are you, anyway-a stud-horse with tits?"
"I was down on the nag," Lilly said quietly. "You know I was, Bo. After all, you wouldn't have wanted me to bet it off the board."
"You were down on it, huh? Now, I'll ask you just one question. Do you want to stick to that story, or do you want to keep your teeth?"
"I want to keep my teeth."
"Now, I'll ask you one more question. Do you think I got no contacts out here? You think I couldn't get a report on the play on that horse?"
"No, I don't think that. I'm sure you could, Bo."
"That nag paid off at just the opening price. There wasn't hardly a flutter on the tote board from the time the odds were posted." He lit a cigarette, took a couple of quick angry puffs. "What kind of crap you handing me anyway, Lilly? There ain't enough action to tickle the tote, but you claim a five-grand win! Now, how about it, huh? You ready to fly straight or not?"
She drew in a deep breath. Hesitated. Nodded. There was only one thing to do now, to tell the truth and hope for the best.
She did so. Justus sat turned in the seat; studying, analyzing her expression throughout the recital. When she had finished, he faced back around again, sat in deadpan silence for several minutes.
"So you were just stupid," he said. "Asleep at the switch. You think I'm going to buy that?"
Lilly nodded evenly. He'd already bought it, she said, three weeks ago; suspected the truth before he was told. "You know you did, Bo. If you hadn't, I'd be dead by now."
"Maybe you will be yet, sister! Maybe you'll wish you was dead."
"Maybe."
"I laid out better than a hundred yards for a screwing. Just about the highest-priced piece of tail in history. I figure on getting what I paid for."
"Then you'd better do some more figuring," Lilly said. "I'm not that kind of punching bag."
"Real sure about that, are you?"
"Positive. Give me a cigarette, please."
He took a cigarette from his package, and tossed it across the seat. She picked it up, and tossed it back to him.
"Light it please, Bo?
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