“That’s a bigger subject
than a beer and a bowl of chips. Listen, I know we said we’d
both go to the bank, but I can handle it from here. The bank is
just down the street.”
“You think that’s a good
idea?”
“Nobody knows what’s in
here. It’s just a briefcase. And frankly, I don’t
really want to be seen with you.”
“Ouch.”
“It’s nothing personal.”
He gave her the I-don’t-believe-you
look with a little smile. “So would you meet me again in
a dark corner?”
“You get us another half million
and we’ll talk about it.”
* *
*
Of course before she knew the courier
was Dan Young she had had many reasons to impress the man; she
was talking to a big donor, after all, or at least the donor’s
representative, and the coalition desperately needed the money.
But when she first saw him there was more. She had felt him looking
at her, almost as if he were the benefactor and she the donor.
He had seemed attuned to every detail of what she was saying.
Then again maybe it wasn’t what she was saying.
Aside from the fact that she hated
his politics, Dan Young had always seemed to possess some quality
that quite disgustingly she found attractive. He was wide-shouldered
and had the quiet confidence of someone who knew exactly what
he was about. But he didn’t quite swagger, although like
all cowboy types he tortured animals, ate meat, did what his kind
usually did. She wasn’t quite sure what made him interesting.
Once at a county fair, before Dan’s
wife had died, Maria had been working a booth devoted to registering
democratic voters. She’d taken a break, gotten some hot
tea and moved to the back
