retainer agreement and passed it on to the girl. She read it and signed it. “I’ll give you a copy at Prize’s,” Nina said. “And now I want your name. I can’t read this signature.”
“But . . .”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Nina said. “It’s privileged now, because we are alone and you’re my client. But I have to know who my clients are. Who are you?”
“No one? Because if you do—it won’t just be me . . .”
“I promise.”
“My name is Jessie. Jessie Potter.” She whispered it.
Nina had half expected the name to be infamous. My name is Lizzie Borden, nice to meet ya. “Okay, Jessie Potter. Nice to meet you. Now, how do I reach you?”
“Sandy. I don’t know my aunt’s number.”
“Is she listed?”
“Sandy will be able to reach me.”
“You’re a member of the Washoe tribe?” Nina said then, because Sandy was a Washoe, a small tribe of Native Americans based around Tahoe and Northern Nevada.
“Yes.”
“Is there a family member you could call for advice about this? Your aunt?”
“No one with any better judgment than I have, including my aunt. She’s eighty and living in about nineteen fifty these days.”
Nina’s headache was getting worse. She gave up. “All right, Jessie. Let’s go get that check,” she said.
The girl stood up. “Now, where is the registry office? How do we get there?”
They went out to Paul and Kenny Leung. Leung was drinking thirstily out of a paper cup.
“She still wants to do it,” Nina said. “What about you, Kenny? If I were you, I’d want to talk to a lawyer first. About the marriage idea, and the agreement I’m about to draw up. I advise you to do that.”
“Not necessary,” Kenny said. “I waive legal counsel. Voluntarily. And with full appreciation of the potential adverse consequences of failing to be represented by counsel when this much money and my pristine bachelor status are involved. Because, you see, I just don’t care. Because this is my final challenge to the gods—”
Nina interrupted, “Are you intoxicated?” He had to say no and walk without staggering, or she wouldn’t be able to go ahead.
“Not since I visited the head just now. Want me to prove it? Calculate your income to within, say, five grand?” He was coherent when he wanted to be.
“No need,” Nina said hurriedly. “Okay, then. We’ll meet in the parking lot at Prize’s as soon as you can get back.”
“I’m going to Reno with them. I’ll drive,” Paul said.
Nina nodded. “Call me when it’s over,” she said to Jessie. Jessie and Kenny went out into the hall.
Paul lingered. As soon as the door shut, he said, “You have to be kidding.”
“You have a better idea?”
“I do. The phone rings in my hotel room. We’re busy. We don’t answer.”
“You wouldn’t miss this for the world, Paul. And neither would I. I wonder if they can pull it off.”
“I don’t trust either one of them. Or you. You’re being reckless. I know that look in your eye. You think this is a big adventure.”
“Don’t be patronizing.”
“Don’t be a fool.”
She sidled up to him and put an arm around his waist. “Look at it as a gamble, Paul. She needs us to help her get that check safely. Let’s go for it.”
“What about the f-word?”
“This is no time to talk about—about the coat!”
“I meant fraud. What did you think I meant?” He gave her a wolfish grin. Then he patted the pocket where he had put Kenny’s gun, and Nina noticed he didn’t give it back before they left.
6
BY FOUR A.M., with another jolt of French roast helping the ibuprofen tablets eat away at her stomach and an agreement that she hoped was ironclad drafted, printed out, copied, and resting uneasily in her briefcase in back, Nina lay in the Bronco—the driver’s seat, pushed back— in that tortured state known to red-eye flyers in which you can’t sleep and you can’t stay awake.
She was parked in the middle of an acre of parking lot behind
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