Unknown Remains by Peter Leonard

won’t be able to resist you.”
    â€œSo you work for the Italians, huh?”
    â€œYou’re a little genius, aren’t you? Figured it out without any help whatsoever. I’m impressed.”
    â€œI’m going to pay back what I owe.”
    â€œWe’re all aware of that and very appreciative. But it looks like you need some help, and that’s why I’m here. How good an actress are you?”
    â€œGood, I think.” She paused. “Who’s the rich guy? Is he married?”
    â€œWhat difference does it make?” Cobb didn’t have a specific rich guy in mind. All he had was a vague idea how it might work.
    â€œI don’t date married men.”
    â€œYou won’t be dating. You’ll be acting, playing a part, remember?” Cobb sipped his 7 and 7. “What was your last starring role?”
    â€œ Oklahoma . It’s a play.”
    â€œ Oklahoma , no kidding. That was the Broadway version, I’ll bet.”
    Vicki grinned. “Yeah, right.”
    Cobb had heard of it, but had no idea what the story was about. “What character were you?”
    â€œLaurey Williams,” she said with a big grin. “I was the lead.”
    â€œWell, of course you were.”
    â€œShe was an independent woman of the times.”
    â€œThat’s what you are living in New York City in the New Millennium.”
    â€œLaurey, if you recall, marries Curly McLain, a cowboy.”
    â€œThis fella you’re gonna meet is a cowboy too, a Wall Street cowboy.”
    He stopped talking and looked at her. “This sound like something you can handle?”
    Her eyes fluttered, and she picked up the Guinness and drank. She made a face. “What if I don’t want to do it?”
    â€œI urge you to, or you’re gonna be paying the debt back in another way.”
    She frowned. “What does that mean?”
    â€œWe’ll keep you in a room and have you entertain gentlemen for the next five years. What’s that, thirty, forty guys a week, one hundred and twenty-five or so a month?”
    Vicki looked nervous, afraid, for the first time, and Cobb believed he’d finally gotten through to her.
    Two days later , Cobb took Vicki to Ulysses, a Wall Street hangout. She’d worn a skirt and had her hair up, moving through the packed room full of Wall Street hard-ons in their outfits, confident rich assholes wearing fancy suspenders under their jackets, and shirts that had different-color collars and cuffs, every eye in the place on Vicki Ross.
    Cobb stood off to the side, watching guys hit on Vic, come up and deliver their best lines. She’d look, smile, and keep going. He saw groups of Wall Streeters staring at her, following her as she moved through the room, and then, like he’d planned it, she was talking to a good-looking guy at a cocktail table. The guy signaled a waiter, bought her a drink, and looked like he was hooked.
    An hour and a couple drinks later, they walked out of the bar together and got in a cab. Cobb followed them in another cab to a bar called McSorley’s, one of the oldest pubs in the city.
    Cobb entered the loud, crowded room but kept his distance, had a peach schnapps at the far side of the bar, watching the guy and Vicki having a good time. A little after ten, Vicki and the guy walked outside, he kissed her on the cheek. She put her arms around him and kissed him hard like the world was gonna end. He looked happy as he got in a taxi and it drove away. Vicki started walking along Seventh Street. Cobb caught up to her and said, “Looked like you had him where you wanted him, but you struck out.”
    â€œYou following me now?”
    â€œHow’d it go?”
    â€œI gave him my number.” She handed Cobb the guy’s business card, Jack McCann. “Said he worked for Sterns and Morrison, Wealth Management Division, as a registered representative.”
    â€œHe say he was gonna