Assumed Identity

10

“Damn it, I didn’t want to drive all this way in the first place,” Buchanan said. “What’s in it for me? Every time I turn around, you’re winking at some young stud with a bulge in his shorts.”

“Keep your voice down,” Holly said.

“Harry warned me about you. He said to watch you every second. He said you’d screw any male old enough to get an erection, the younger the better.”

“Keep your voice down,” Holly said more strongly.

“I notice you don’t deny it. You just don’t want anybody to know the truth.”

“Stop it,” Holly warned. “You’re embarrassing me.”

They were in the Coral Reef Bar, sitting in a corner that had fishing nets on one wall and a stuffed marlin on the other. The small circular table had a cloth with wavy lines and numbers that made it look like a nautical chart. The ceiling lights were chandeliers that resembled the rudder wheel on a ship.

Buchanan slumped in a captain’s chair and swallowed half a glass of beer. “Keep my voice down. That’s all you say. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll keep my voice down if you keep your pants on. Waiter, two more beers.”

“I’m not thirsty,” Holly said.

“Did I say I was ordering for you? Waiter! I’ve changed my mind. Make it a bourbon on the rocks.”

“You already had two at the other place. Two beers here and. . Dave, it’s only noon, for God’s sake.”

“Just shut up, okay?” Buchanan slammed the table. “I’ll drink when I want to. If you’d stop jumping into bed with every-”

“Sir,” a voice said, “you’re disturbing the other customers.”

“Tough shit.”

“Sir,” the man said, a big man, blond, with a brush cut and muscles straining at his T-shirt, “if you don’t keep your voice down, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Ask all you want, pal, but I’m staying right here.” Buchanan swallowed the rest of his beer and yelled to the waiter, “Where’s that bourbon?”

People were staring.

“Dave,” Holly said.

Buchanan slammed the table again. “I told you, shut the fuck up!”

“Okay,” the big man said. “Let’s go, buddy.”

“Hey!” Buchanan objected as the big man grabbed him. “What the-?” Jerked to his feet, pretending to stagger, Buchanan fell against the table, upsetting glasses. “Jesus, watch my arm. You’re breaking it.”

“I’d like to, buddy.”

As the big man twisted Buchanan’s arm behind his back and guided him toward the exit, Buchanan glared backward toward Holly. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go.”

Holly didn’t answer.

“I said, let’s go!”

Holly still didn’t answer. She flinched as Buchanan kept shouting from outside the bar. Slowly, she raised her beer glass to her lips, sipped, squinted at her trembling hand, lowered the glass, and wiped at her eyes.

“Are you all right?”

Holly looked up at a good-looking, tanned, slender man in his twenties who wore a white uniform.

She didn’t answer.

“Hey, I really don’t mean to bother you,” the man said. “You’ve had enough of that already. But you do look a little shook up. If there’s anything I can do. . Can I buy you another drink?”

Holly wiped at her eyes again, straightening, trying to look dignified. She directed her gaze, frightened, toward the door. “Please.”

“Another beer for the lady.”

“And. .”

“What?”

“I’m. . I’d really appreciate it if you could make sure he doesn’t hurt me when I leave.”