getting my husband out of jail so I can have dinner with him?"
"Tonight? No way. I've got to talk to your bank first."
"That's exactly where I left it at twelve-thirty this afternoon."
"Yeah, well, I'm sorry. And I'll take care of it myself in the morning, but I can't do anything after banking hours, not on a bond the size of the one you're talking about. What are you putting up as collateral?"
"My business and/or my house. That's up to you. I'm willing to put up either one or both. Or I was. But I have another idea." It was crazy, it was stupid, it was immoral, it was wrong, but she was so goddam fed up, she had to. She reached into her bag and pulled out the two cases with her mother's jewelry in them. "What about these?"
Barry York sat down very quietly and didn't say a word for almost ten minutes.
"Nice."
"Better than that. The emerald and the diamond rings are very fine stones. And the sapphire brooch is worth a great deal of money. So are the pearls."
"Yeah. Probably so. But the problem is I don't know nothing until I take them to a jeweler. I still can't get the old man out tonight" The old man ... asshole. "Very nice jewelry, though. Where'd you get it?"
We stole it. "It's my mother's."
"She know the old man's in the can?"
"Hardly, Mr. York. She's dead."
"Oh. I'm sorry. Listen, I'll take this to the appraiser first thing tomorrow morning. I'll call your bank. We'll get the old man out by noon. Swear, if the stuff is good. I can't do anything before that. But by noon, if everything is in order. Do you have my fee?"
Yes, darling, in pennies. "Yes."
"Okay, then we're all set."
"Mr. York, why can't you just take all the jewelry tonight and let him come home? He won't go anywhere, and well get all this financial nonsense straightened out tomorrow. If your assistant had called the bank when she said she would ..."
He was shaking his head, picking his teeth again and holding up his other hand. "I'd like to. But I can't. That's all. I can't My business is at stake. I'll take care of it first thing in the morning. I swear. Be here at ten-thirty and we'll get everything done."
"Fine." She rose to her feet, feeling as though the weight of the world were resting on her shoulders. She folded up the two suede cases and put them back in her bag.
"You're not leaving me those?"
"Nope. That was just if I could get him out tonight I thought you'd recognize their value. Otherwise, I'd much rather put up my house and the business."
"Okay. Yeah." But he didn't look pleased. "That's a hell of a big bond, you know." She nodded tiredly.
"Don't worry. It's a nice house and a good business, and he's a decent man. He won't run away on you. You won't lose a dime."
"You'd be surprised who runs away."
"I'll see you at ten-thirty, Mr. York." She held out a hand and he shook it, smiling again.
"You sure about dinner? You look tired. Maybe some food would do you good. A little wine, a little dancing ... hell, enjoy yourself a little before the old man gets home. And look at it this way, if he got busted for rape, you gotta know he wasn't just out with the boys."
"Good night, Mr. York."
She walked quietly out the door, out to her car, and drove home.
She was asleep on the couch half an hour later, and she didn't wake up until nine the next morning. When she did, she felt as though she had died the night before. And she had a terrifying case of the shakes.
It was all beginning to take its toll. The ever deepening circles under her eyes now looked irreparable, the eyes themselves seemed to be shrinking, and she noticed that she was beginning to lose weight She smoked six cigarettes, drank two cups of coffee, played with a piece of toast, and called the boutique and told them to forget about her again today. She arrived back at Yorktowne Bonding at ten-thirty. On the dot.
There were two new people at the desk--a girl with dyed black hair the color of military boots who was snapping bubble gum, and a bearded young man with a
"Tonight? No way. I've got to talk to your bank first."
"That's exactly where I left it at twelve-thirty this afternoon."
"Yeah, well, I'm sorry. And I'll take care of it myself in the morning, but I can't do anything after banking hours, not on a bond the size of the one you're talking about. What are you putting up as collateral?"
"My business and/or my house. That's up to you. I'm willing to put up either one or both. Or I was. But I have another idea." It was crazy, it was stupid, it was immoral, it was wrong, but she was so goddam fed up, she had to. She reached into her bag and pulled out the two cases with her mother's jewelry in them. "What about these?"
Barry York sat down very quietly and didn't say a word for almost ten minutes.
"Nice."
"Better than that. The emerald and the diamond rings are very fine stones. And the sapphire brooch is worth a great deal of money. So are the pearls."
"Yeah. Probably so. But the problem is I don't know nothing until I take them to a jeweler. I still can't get the old man out tonight" The old man ... asshole. "Very nice jewelry, though. Where'd you get it?"
We stole it. "It's my mother's."
"She know the old man's in the can?"
"Hardly, Mr. York. She's dead."
"Oh. I'm sorry. Listen, I'll take this to the appraiser first thing tomorrow morning. I'll call your bank. We'll get the old man out by noon. Swear, if the stuff is good. I can't do anything before that. But by noon, if everything is in order. Do you have my fee?"
Yes, darling, in pennies. "Yes."
"Okay, then we're all set."
"Mr. York, why can't you just take all the jewelry tonight and let him come home? He won't go anywhere, and well get all this financial nonsense straightened out tomorrow. If your assistant had called the bank when she said she would ..."
He was shaking his head, picking his teeth again and holding up his other hand. "I'd like to. But I can't. That's all. I can't My business is at stake. I'll take care of it first thing in the morning. I swear. Be here at ten-thirty and we'll get everything done."
"Fine." She rose to her feet, feeling as though the weight of the world were resting on her shoulders. She folded up the two suede cases and put them back in her bag.
"You're not leaving me those?"
"Nope. That was just if I could get him out tonight I thought you'd recognize their value. Otherwise, I'd much rather put up my house and the business."
"Okay. Yeah." But he didn't look pleased. "That's a hell of a big bond, you know." She nodded tiredly.
"Don't worry. It's a nice house and a good business, and he's a decent man. He won't run away on you. You won't lose a dime."
"You'd be surprised who runs away."
"I'll see you at ten-thirty, Mr. York." She held out a hand and he shook it, smiling again.
"You sure about dinner? You look tired. Maybe some food would do you good. A little wine, a little dancing ... hell, enjoy yourself a little before the old man gets home. And look at it this way, if he got busted for rape, you gotta know he wasn't just out with the boys."
"Good night, Mr. York."
She walked quietly out the door, out to her car, and drove home.
She was asleep on the couch half an hour later, and she didn't wake up until nine the next morning. When she did, she felt as though she had died the night before. And she had a terrifying case of the shakes.
It was all beginning to take its toll. The ever deepening circles under her eyes now looked irreparable, the eyes themselves seemed to be shrinking, and she noticed that she was beginning to lose weight She smoked six cigarettes, drank two cups of coffee, played with a piece of toast, and called the boutique and told them to forget about her again today. She arrived back at Yorktowne Bonding at ten-thirty. On the dot.
There were two new people at the desk--a girl with dyed black hair the color of military boots who was snapping bubble gum, and a bearded young man with a
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