opportunity ever tendered itself. But now, when she was (technically at least) broken up with Duncan and was as such fair game, he startled himself by resisting.
“You can touch me if you want,” she whispered.
“Which is exactly why I’m not going to.”
“It’s all right. I wouldn’t tell Duncan.”
“I would.”
Tiffy cuffed him once, hard. Benjamin slapped her back. She appeared surprised, then stimulated. She seized him and tried to kiss him again.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said.
“I’ve got a better idea.” He pushed her away. “Why don’t I get out of here and you find someone else to lead around by the pecker.”
He paid for the beers and left. Tiffy followed him to the Purgatory Truck. Her previously smoldering eyes had cooled to glaciers. She handed him an envelope.
“Will you give this to Duncan?”
“Sure.”
“If you tell him anything, I’ll just deny it.” She turned and walked away. “Candy ass pansy Indian fairy,” she said as she retreated.
“White bow-legged cowgirl slut,” Benjamin said as he got in his truck.
Tiffy stopped. “I am not bow-legged!” she yelled. Then she went back inside.
Leroy Kern stood behind the counter at the Lazy Rancher, absently rubbing the goose egg on his forehead. He had been seeing double since the incident and could only today successfully fuse his images. Earlier that morning, Billy Masterson had stopped by and explained the situation. It riled Leroy Kern that Benjamin could, in theory and if he so desired, prefer charges against him. He protested, but Billy held up his hand and said, self defense don’t include protecting yourself from being stared at.
Leroy Kern looked up when he heard the Purgatory Truck. He reached under the counter. He panicked when he remembered Billy had confiscated his gun as evidence. Benjamin shut off the truck and went inside. He took a six pack of beer out of the cooler and placed it in a hand basket beside a plastic wrapped tuna salad sandwich, a bag of chocolate chip cookies, and a half pint of potato salad. He took a quart of thirty weight off a shelf and put it in the basket between the six packs. He put the basket on the counter.
“Howdy, Leroy,” Benjamin said.
“Hey, Ben.”
Leroy Kern, pale and sweating, removed and totaled the items in Benjamin’s basket. His goose egg was a painful purple, and both eyes were bruised. He looked like a fat, bald raccoon.
“No hard feelings?” he asked.
“Just because you tried to murder me? Of course not.”
Leroy Kern relaxed. “That’ll be twenty-one seventy-five.”
“You take care of that, Leroy?
Benjamin picked up his goods and headed for the door. He stopped at the candy rack. He took a Milky Way bar and held it up. Leroy Kern stood there with his mouth open and his eyes dull.
“I believe you owe me one of these.”
He pocketed the candy bar and stepped outside. He placed his appropriated goods on the passenger seat and got in. As he backed up, he looked through the glass and watched with grim satisfaction as Leroy Kern finally closed his mouth, took out his wallet, and put a twenty and three ones into the cash register.
A thin, ebony haired receptionist was sitting behind a chrome and glass desk when Duncan walked into Angela Moncini’s office that Monday, her crossed legs covered in black mesh. Her name was Marie, and she was pretty as a mannequin, though substantially more lifelike. She surveyed him with an entomologist’s indifference. Duncan leaned the two paintings wrapped in butcher paper against a wall and took off his hat.
“I’d like to see Angela Moncini if I could.”
“Is she expecting you?”
“Well, yes and no.”
“Which is it?”
“Both, I guess.”
“Your name?”
“Duncan Delaney.”
“I’ll see if she’s in.” She stood and went through a door.
Duncan looked about. Framed newspaper and magazine clippings on the walls detailed the varying successes of Angela Moncini’s
“You can touch me if you want,” she whispered.
“Which is exactly why I’m not going to.”
“It’s all right. I wouldn’t tell Duncan.”
“I would.”
Tiffy cuffed him once, hard. Benjamin slapped her back. She appeared surprised, then stimulated. She seized him and tried to kiss him again.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said.
“I’ve got a better idea.” He pushed her away. “Why don’t I get out of here and you find someone else to lead around by the pecker.”
He paid for the beers and left. Tiffy followed him to the Purgatory Truck. Her previously smoldering eyes had cooled to glaciers. She handed him an envelope.
“Will you give this to Duncan?”
“Sure.”
“If you tell him anything, I’ll just deny it.” She turned and walked away. “Candy ass pansy Indian fairy,” she said as she retreated.
“White bow-legged cowgirl slut,” Benjamin said as he got in his truck.
Tiffy stopped. “I am not bow-legged!” she yelled. Then she went back inside.
Leroy Kern stood behind the counter at the Lazy Rancher, absently rubbing the goose egg on his forehead. He had been seeing double since the incident and could only today successfully fuse his images. Earlier that morning, Billy Masterson had stopped by and explained the situation. It riled Leroy Kern that Benjamin could, in theory and if he so desired, prefer charges against him. He protested, but Billy held up his hand and said, self defense don’t include protecting yourself from being stared at.
Leroy Kern looked up when he heard the Purgatory Truck. He reached under the counter. He panicked when he remembered Billy had confiscated his gun as evidence. Benjamin shut off the truck and went inside. He took a six pack of beer out of the cooler and placed it in a hand basket beside a plastic wrapped tuna salad sandwich, a bag of chocolate chip cookies, and a half pint of potato salad. He took a quart of thirty weight off a shelf and put it in the basket between the six packs. He put the basket on the counter.
“Howdy, Leroy,” Benjamin said.
“Hey, Ben.”
Leroy Kern, pale and sweating, removed and totaled the items in Benjamin’s basket. His goose egg was a painful purple, and both eyes were bruised. He looked like a fat, bald raccoon.
“No hard feelings?” he asked.
“Just because you tried to murder me? Of course not.”
Leroy Kern relaxed. “That’ll be twenty-one seventy-five.”
“You take care of that, Leroy?
Benjamin picked up his goods and headed for the door. He stopped at the candy rack. He took a Milky Way bar and held it up. Leroy Kern stood there with his mouth open and his eyes dull.
“I believe you owe me one of these.”
He pocketed the candy bar and stepped outside. He placed his appropriated goods on the passenger seat and got in. As he backed up, he looked through the glass and watched with grim satisfaction as Leroy Kern finally closed his mouth, took out his wallet, and put a twenty and three ones into the cash register.
A thin, ebony haired receptionist was sitting behind a chrome and glass desk when Duncan walked into Angela Moncini’s office that Monday, her crossed legs covered in black mesh. Her name was Marie, and she was pretty as a mannequin, though substantially more lifelike. She surveyed him with an entomologist’s indifference. Duncan leaned the two paintings wrapped in butcher paper against a wall and took off his hat.
“I’d like to see Angela Moncini if I could.”
“Is she expecting you?”
“Well, yes and no.”
“Which is it?”
“Both, I guess.”
“Your name?”
“Duncan Delaney.”
“I’ll see if she’s in.” She stood and went through a door.
Duncan looked about. Framed newspaper and magazine clippings on the walls detailed the varying successes of Angela Moncini’s
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