watched the sports car, a white Jaguar XK, go by raising a trail of dust on the gravel road, finally reaching a poin t w here it passed from sight beyond the trees.
"That's the car," Renda said.
Majestyk continued to watch the road, saying nothing until the car appeare d a gain, coming slowly from the other direction.
"All right, let's go."
By the time they reached the road the Jaguar was approaching them and came to a n a brupt stop. An attractive young girl with short blond hair and big roun d s unglasses got out and stood looking at them over the open door.
Majestyk stared, taken by surprise. He hadn't expected a girl. The possibilit y h ad never entered his mind.
"Who's that?"
"That's Wiley," Renda said. He started toward the car and called to the girl , "You got the money?"
"I already gave it to him," the girl said. "God, Frank, you're a mess."
"What do you mean you gave it to him? Come on, for Christ sake, where's th e m oney?"
She was frowning as she raised the sunglasses and placed them on her head. "I was told to stop at the store on the highway and pay the man three dollars an d e ighty-five cents, and that's what I did. It's the only money I was told t o b ring."
Renda turned to Majestyk, who was walking toward the Jaguar now, looking at i t c losely.
"What are you pulling? What kind of shit are you pulling! We made a d eal--twenty-five grand!"
"It doesn't look like you'd fit in the trunk," Majestyk said. "So I guess mayb e y ou better drive, Frank. Keep your hands on something. Wiley can squeeze i n b ehind the seats." He looked at Renda then. "You can get in by yourself, or I can help you in. Either way."
"I must have missed something," Wiley said. "Is it all right if I ask wher e w e're going?"
Majestyk gave her a pleasant smile. "To jail, honey. Where'd you think?"
Wiley was three years out of Northwestern University, drama school; two year s o ut of Universal City, a little television; one year out of a Las Vega s s how-bar, topless; and six months into Frank Renda.
Until recently she had been amazed that life with him could be so--not boring , really--uneventful. Living with a real-life man who killed people had sounde d l ike the trip to end all trips. It turned out to be mostly lying around swimmin g p ools while he talked on the phone. Frank was fun to watch. He was a natura l a ctor and didn't know it. He played roles constantly, from cool dude to spoile d c hild, and looked at himself in the mirror a lot, like almost every actor sh e h ad ever known. It was interesting watching him. Still, it was getting to b e s omething of a drag until, four days ago, when she fingered the guy in the ba r f or him. No, it wasn't exactly a finger job. What she did was sit at the bar , keeping an eye on the guy. When it looked like he was getting ready to pay hi s c heck, she got up and walked out of the place, letting Frank know the guy wa s c oming, giving him a minute or so to get ready. She didn't know what Frank ha d a gainst the guy; she didn't ask him. This was real-life drama. She stood off t o t he side and watched Frank calmly shoot the guy five times. Wow. From about te n f eet away. The guy was a great dier. It was really a show, cinema verite. Unti l t he cop came from out of nowhere and jammed his gun into Frank's back. She go t o ut of there, took a cab back to her apartment and waited, the next four days , close to the phone.
More true-life adventure now, scrunched behind the bucket seats of an XK Jag , driving down a back-country road, her handcuffed boyfriend with both hands o n t he top arc of the steering wheel, and a solemn-faced, farmer-looking gu y s taring at him, watching every move he made.
"Left when you get to the blacktop," Majestyk said. "That'll take us to th e h ighway."
Renda braked. As he began to turn onto the county road he lost his grip and ha d t o grab the steering wheel and crank it hard to keep from going into the ditch.
Wiley was thrown hard against the back
"That's the car," Renda said.
Majestyk continued to watch the road, saying nothing until the car appeare d a gain, coming slowly from the other direction.
"All right, let's go."
By the time they reached the road the Jaguar was approaching them and came to a n a brupt stop. An attractive young girl with short blond hair and big roun d s unglasses got out and stood looking at them over the open door.
Majestyk stared, taken by surprise. He hadn't expected a girl. The possibilit y h ad never entered his mind.
"Who's that?"
"That's Wiley," Renda said. He started toward the car and called to the girl , "You got the money?"
"I already gave it to him," the girl said. "God, Frank, you're a mess."
"What do you mean you gave it to him? Come on, for Christ sake, where's th e m oney?"
She was frowning as she raised the sunglasses and placed them on her head. "I was told to stop at the store on the highway and pay the man three dollars an d e ighty-five cents, and that's what I did. It's the only money I was told t o b ring."
Renda turned to Majestyk, who was walking toward the Jaguar now, looking at i t c losely.
"What are you pulling? What kind of shit are you pulling! We made a d eal--twenty-five grand!"
"It doesn't look like you'd fit in the trunk," Majestyk said. "So I guess mayb e y ou better drive, Frank. Keep your hands on something. Wiley can squeeze i n b ehind the seats." He looked at Renda then. "You can get in by yourself, or I can help you in. Either way."
"I must have missed something," Wiley said. "Is it all right if I ask wher e w e're going?"
Majestyk gave her a pleasant smile. "To jail, honey. Where'd you think?"
Wiley was three years out of Northwestern University, drama school; two year s o ut of Universal City, a little television; one year out of a Las Vega s s how-bar, topless; and six months into Frank Renda.
Until recently she had been amazed that life with him could be so--not boring , really--uneventful. Living with a real-life man who killed people had sounde d l ike the trip to end all trips. It turned out to be mostly lying around swimmin g p ools while he talked on the phone. Frank was fun to watch. He was a natura l a ctor and didn't know it. He played roles constantly, from cool dude to spoile d c hild, and looked at himself in the mirror a lot, like almost every actor sh e h ad ever known. It was interesting watching him. Still, it was getting to b e s omething of a drag until, four days ago, when she fingered the guy in the ba r f or him. No, it wasn't exactly a finger job. What she did was sit at the bar , keeping an eye on the guy. When it looked like he was getting ready to pay hi s c heck, she got up and walked out of the place, letting Frank know the guy wa s c oming, giving him a minute or so to get ready. She didn't know what Frank ha d a gainst the guy; she didn't ask him. This was real-life drama. She stood off t o t he side and watched Frank calmly shoot the guy five times. Wow. From about te n f eet away. The guy was a great dier. It was really a show, cinema verite. Unti l t he cop came from out of nowhere and jammed his gun into Frank's back. She go t o ut of there, took a cab back to her apartment and waited, the next four days , close to the phone.
More true-life adventure now, scrunched behind the bucket seats of an XK Jag , driving down a back-country road, her handcuffed boyfriend with both hands o n t he top arc of the steering wheel, and a solemn-faced, farmer-looking gu y s taring at him, watching every move he made.
"Left when you get to the blacktop," Majestyk said. "That'll take us to th e h ighway."
Renda braked. As he began to turn onto the county road he lost his grip and ha d t o grab the steering wheel and crank it hard to keep from going into the ditch.
Wiley was thrown hard against the back
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