Out on the Rim by Ross Thomas Page A

jeopardy, or two, fuck him over, I’ll tell him to walk.”
    They stared at each other for seconds until Crites turned to Stallings and said, “Okay, Booth. Let’s talk money. You got fifty thousand in Washington. There’s another two hundred thousand in that attaché case Georgia’s got—half of it in unendorsed Amex traveler’s checks. That’s so you can spread ’em around any way you want. But if, for some weird and wonderful reason, you decide to do a flit, I can trace you through them—eventually. Okay?”
    â€œWhere’s the other half?”
    â€œIn Hong Kong. When you deliver the package, Georgia will hand over the other two-fifty. That means you might as well get used to her because she’s along for the whole cruise. If nothing else, she can keep an eye on him.” Crites jerked a thumb at Overby without looking at him.
    â€œYou didn’t mention Miss Blue in Washington, Harry.”
    â€œYeah, well, that must be why I’m doing it now.”
    Stallings smiled at Georgia Blue. “Mind if I call you Georgia?”
    â€œNot at all.”

    â€œTell me something about yourself.”
    â€œI was with the federal government for seven years.”
    â€œAgriculture, perhaps?” Stallings said. “Commerce? Housing and Urban Development.”
    â€œTreasury,” Georgia Blue said.
    Stallings shot his eyebrows up. “Not the dread Secret Service?”
    Georgia Blue’s mouth formed a slight amused smile as she nodded.
    â€œAnd now you’re with Harry here?”
    â€œNo, Mr. Stallings. I’m with you.”
    The waiter arrived with Harry Crites’ honeydew melon. The others watched silently as he ate it in two minutes, patted his lips with a napkin, had a final sip of coffee, patted his lips again and turned to Stallings.
    â€œOkay. That’s it. I’ve told you what you need to know and if there’s anything I forgot, Georgia can handle it. When’re you leaving?”
    Stallings looked at Overby who said, “Tonight. The ten-thirty flight. Philippine Airlines.” He looked at Georgia Blue with what seemed to be concern. “I’m not sure we can get you a seat.”
    â€œI already have a reservation, Otherguy,” she said.
    Overby smiled. “Together again.”
    Harry Crites looked at his watch and rose. “I’ve got a match in forty-five minutes, Booth, so I suppose I’ll see you when you get back.” His eyes went to Overby. “You, too, maybe.”
    Georgia Blue also rose. “I’ll go with you to the car.”
    Harry Crites turned away from the table, then turned back. “By the way, Booth. I really like that new suit.”
    When they were gone Stallings asked Overby, “Where’d you know her, Otherguy?”
    â€œAround.”
    â€œAround where?”
    â€œI’ll let her tell it.”
    Georgia Blue was back in five minutes. She had taken the thin attache case with her and Stallings now noticed she had brought it
back. She sat down, poured herself fresh coffee, took a sip and leaned back in her chair, looking first at Overby and then at Stallings.
    â€œI think we may as well get down to it, don’t you, Mr. Stallings?”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œGood.” She leaned forward, rested her elbows on the table and smiled at Overby. “How many ways are you planning to cut up the five million, Otherguy?”
    Nearly a minute went by as they again stared at each other, silently exchanging what Stallings felt were new confidences, ancient secrets and bad memories.
    Overby finally looked away, not at Stallings, but at something miles off. “Four,” he said. “Four ways.”
    Georgia Blue turned to Stallings with a cool stare that he thought he could feel poking around in the secret recesses of his mind. “And now it’ll be five ways, right, Mr. Stallings? A million each.”
    â€œI guess I’m