Thirty-Four and a Half Predicaments
Page 44
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Humphrey laughed. “What do you think’s gonna happen?”
I didn’t want to know where either of their imaginations were going. Jed backed out of the room and I shut the door in his face, then turned to face the possible Benedict Arnold.
“How about a drink, Mr. Humphrey?” I asked as I walked over to Skeeter’s whiskey stash.
The office was Skeeter’s, though it was much more opulently appointed than the bare bones quarters he kept in the pool hall. This room was richly decorated with a sofa, two leather chairs in one corner, and a large mahogany desk in the opposite corner. Next to the desk was a doorway that led to a very nice private bath. But it was the console by the leather chairs where I was headed.
“If you’re drinking with me.” He sat down in one of the leather chairs, and I almost cursed. The chairs were several feet apart, too far for me to purposely have a vision. I’d have to get up and touch him.
“Of course.” I picked up the bottle and poured some into two glass tumblers. After handing one to Humphrey, I sat in a leather chair across from his. I’d already wasted thirty seconds, but I figured I needed to butter him up before diving right into my questions.
We both sipped our drinks, an easier task for me this time than it had been the last. I’d gotten a new hat online as well as a couple of dresses. While it was still black and the veil was heavy enough to make seeing my eyes difficult, it was shorter, coming only to the top of my mouth.
“Why the mystery?” he asked, resting his glass on the arm in his chair. “Why wear a hat with a veil that covers your face?”
“I had an unfortunate accident that left me with a scar. I prefer to keep it covered.”
“That ugly, huh?”
There wasn’t an answer to that, so I sipped my whiskey. All too conscious of the time ticking down, I decided to take the offensive. “You impressed me tonight.”
He leaned back and grinned. “Is that so?”
The way he stretched his legs implied he thought I was impressed with what he might possess under his belt. I planned to clear that up straight away. “You’re a man who seems to be willing to admit when he’s wrong.”
His eyes widened slightly and he looked amused. “What makes you say that?”
“I was impressed with how quickly you changed your opinion, especially since I pegged you as someone who’s not a team player.”
His grin froze. “What are you accusing me of?”
I gave him a half-shrug and took a sip of my whiskey. “Nothing, I’m only confessing my first impression.”
He grinned again. “And here I thought we were in here putting our differences to bed.” He lifted his drink. “Or we can put other things to bed if you’d prefer.”
“After I told you earlier that I don’t mix business and…pleasure?” I asked.
Still grinning, he said, “You’re the one who told me that I think with my…hormones.”
I tilted my head to study him. “You seem like a smart man, Mr. Humphrey, the kind who hedges his bets. What has Gentry offered you?”
“Who says I’ve negotiated with him?”
“You seem a little too knowledgeable about his plan to bring in the Columbia County men.” I paused. “Not to mention comfortable with it.”
“It doesn’t make a difference to me,” he said. “No matter what you say, you’re no different than them. Except you’re a lot better looking—” he waved to my face, then swept lower, “—at least from the neck down.”
“When are you meeting with Gentry?”
“Who says I am?”
“Come now, Mr. Humphrey. I know you’re playing both sides, attempting to determine who has the better offer. And since you’re so familiar with Mick Gentry’s plans, it means you took a meeting with him first. Now you have to contact Gentry and accept or reject allegiance to him.”
His mouth twisted into a ghost of a smile. “Aren’t you the clever one?”
“Are you going to deny it?” When he didn’t answer, I said, “I’d like you to set up a meeting with Mick Gentry myself.” It was a somewhat impulsive move, but it made sense. Gentry was probably the one who wanted Mason dead, and if not, he’d likely be able to identify the culprit. Why not go straight to the source? But cold sweat prickled the back of my neck when I thought about actually going through with it.
His surprise was evident in his eyes. “Why? You wantin’ to take him to task for wanting a split off the Fenton County crime world?”
I paused, hoping I was taking the right course. “I’d like to discuss a negotiation.”
He chortled. “Gentry ain’t the negotiatin’ type.” Then his eyes hardened. “And neither is Skeeter Malcolm. Does he know what you’re suggesting?”
It was tricky. To say yes would probably close the door to a meeting. To say no insinuated I was double-crossing Skeeter. “Mr. Malcolm has given me a free hand in strengthening his empire. Animosity with Mr. Gentry is obviously bad for business.”
A sly grin curled his lips. “I’ll let him know you’re interested.”
My five minutes were almost up and I was still reeling from my impulsive request, but I needed to have a vision before Jed busted in. I stood and slowly walked behind him, then rested my hand on his shoulder. I considered giving him some excuse, but he didn’t pull away from me, so I decided to get right to it.
I didn’t want to know where either of their imaginations were going. Jed backed out of the room and I shut the door in his face, then turned to face the possible Benedict Arnold.
“How about a drink, Mr. Humphrey?” I asked as I walked over to Skeeter’s whiskey stash.
The office was Skeeter’s, though it was much more opulently appointed than the bare bones quarters he kept in the pool hall. This room was richly decorated with a sofa, two leather chairs in one corner, and a large mahogany desk in the opposite corner. Next to the desk was a doorway that led to a very nice private bath. But it was the console by the leather chairs where I was headed.
“If you’re drinking with me.” He sat down in one of the leather chairs, and I almost cursed. The chairs were several feet apart, too far for me to purposely have a vision. I’d have to get up and touch him.
“Of course.” I picked up the bottle and poured some into two glass tumblers. After handing one to Humphrey, I sat in a leather chair across from his. I’d already wasted thirty seconds, but I figured I needed to butter him up before diving right into my questions.
We both sipped our drinks, an easier task for me this time than it had been the last. I’d gotten a new hat online as well as a couple of dresses. While it was still black and the veil was heavy enough to make seeing my eyes difficult, it was shorter, coming only to the top of my mouth.
“Why the mystery?” he asked, resting his glass on the arm in his chair. “Why wear a hat with a veil that covers your face?”
“I had an unfortunate accident that left me with a scar. I prefer to keep it covered.”
“That ugly, huh?”
There wasn’t an answer to that, so I sipped my whiskey. All too conscious of the time ticking down, I decided to take the offensive. “You impressed me tonight.”
He leaned back and grinned. “Is that so?”
The way he stretched his legs implied he thought I was impressed with what he might possess under his belt. I planned to clear that up straight away. “You’re a man who seems to be willing to admit when he’s wrong.”
His eyes widened slightly and he looked amused. “What makes you say that?”
“I was impressed with how quickly you changed your opinion, especially since I pegged you as someone who’s not a team player.”
His grin froze. “What are you accusing me of?”
I gave him a half-shrug and took a sip of my whiskey. “Nothing, I’m only confessing my first impression.”
He grinned again. “And here I thought we were in here putting our differences to bed.” He lifted his drink. “Or we can put other things to bed if you’d prefer.”
“After I told you earlier that I don’t mix business and…pleasure?” I asked.
Still grinning, he said, “You’re the one who told me that I think with my…hormones.”
I tilted my head to study him. “You seem like a smart man, Mr. Humphrey, the kind who hedges his bets. What has Gentry offered you?”
“Who says I’ve negotiated with him?”
“You seem a little too knowledgeable about his plan to bring in the Columbia County men.” I paused. “Not to mention comfortable with it.”
“It doesn’t make a difference to me,” he said. “No matter what you say, you’re no different than them. Except you’re a lot better looking—” he waved to my face, then swept lower, “—at least from the neck down.”
“When are you meeting with Gentry?”
“Who says I am?”
“Come now, Mr. Humphrey. I know you’re playing both sides, attempting to determine who has the better offer. And since you’re so familiar with Mick Gentry’s plans, it means you took a meeting with him first. Now you have to contact Gentry and accept or reject allegiance to him.”
His mouth twisted into a ghost of a smile. “Aren’t you the clever one?”
“Are you going to deny it?” When he didn’t answer, I said, “I’d like you to set up a meeting with Mick Gentry myself.” It was a somewhat impulsive move, but it made sense. Gentry was probably the one who wanted Mason dead, and if not, he’d likely be able to identify the culprit. Why not go straight to the source? But cold sweat prickled the back of my neck when I thought about actually going through with it.
His surprise was evident in his eyes. “Why? You wantin’ to take him to task for wanting a split off the Fenton County crime world?”
I paused, hoping I was taking the right course. “I’d like to discuss a negotiation.”
He chortled. “Gentry ain’t the negotiatin’ type.” Then his eyes hardened. “And neither is Skeeter Malcolm. Does he know what you’re suggesting?”
It was tricky. To say yes would probably close the door to a meeting. To say no insinuated I was double-crossing Skeeter. “Mr. Malcolm has given me a free hand in strengthening his empire. Animosity with Mr. Gentry is obviously bad for business.”
A sly grin curled his lips. “I’ll let him know you’re interested.”
My five minutes were almost up and I was still reeling from my impulsive request, but I needed to have a vision before Jed busted in. I stood and slowly walked behind him, then rested my hand on his shoulder. I considered giving him some excuse, but he didn’t pull away from me, so I decided to get right to it.
