The Golden Years

A Toe on the Wild Side

A decent crowd wandered up and down the sheltered arcade on the main drag. Business owners had volunteered space in front of their shops for the artist to set up her paintings, and assisted with questions asked about the young woman. The drive down had been quick and Eddie wasn't able to form any kind of approach for his snooping, and now he was distracted by the quality of the art on display.

Gail had wandered off and when the voice asked if he liked what he saw, Eddie had to hold back a glib remark, instead he nodded and made pleasing comments about the paintings in front of him.

"You're the artist?" She nodded. "You are a very talented young lady."

The smile was captivating.

"You are very kind - two compliments in one."

"Both quite sincere. Name's Eddie, Mrs. Nursewood." He held out a hand.

"Riley, a pleasure, Eddie. How did you know my name?"

He indicated the signature on the corner of the painting. "Unless it's an alias."

The smile widened. "Nope. That's me." She walked around him and stood the painting a little straighter. "Are you interested in this one."

"I'm interested in all of them, Riley, but I'll be straight with you, I'm not really in the market. I'm down here on vacation and getting something like this back on the plane is just too much hassle."

"Honest, anyway."

"Could I maybe back the honesty comment with a coffee or something? A small attempt at compensation? No ulterior motive, I promise."

She studied him, head tipped to one side. "I'd like a break, and coffee sounds good. Don't disappoint me, Eddie."

"I promise, but I can't speak for the coffee."

She laughed pleasantly and pointed down the arcade, leading the way.

"Have I been replaced so soon?"

Eddie stepped forward as Riley gave the woman a questioning look. "Riley, this is Gail Amitov, she kindly invited me to your show. We're guests in the same hotel. Gail, would you like to join us for a coffee?"

"Coffee?"

"Yeah, Riley is on a break and I offered to buy her a coffee. Here I think." He looked at the coffee counter where customers were standing at a shelf large enough to hold a mug and a pastry.

Gail gave it a glance and said maybe another time. She told Eddie she would be leaving in about twenty minutes if he wanted a ride back. Riley watched her leave. Something about her, she thought.

"Did I walk into sticky situation?"

"Not at all. We're staying at the same hotel, like I said. She raved about your work and invited me along."

"And you being in the market, just couldn't resist."

"You've got it all wrong. I'm just trying a new life on for size and going with the flow, so to speak." He picked up two coffees and they found a place to stand.

"So what is this new life?" She leaned on the shelf and captured his eyes.

"I just retired, and doing nothing isn't as easy as I thought it might be."

"Kinda young for retirement aren't you?"

"Now who's tossing compliments about. What about you, is this full time or are you a bored housewife?"

She looked down at her ring finger and wet her lips. "My husband passed away recently. So yes, this is me full time trying to stay afloat."

"I'm sorry." Gail was telling the truth, he thought. "Were you together long?"

"Nine years married, and several before that. It was cancer."

"Rough. I hope things work--"

"Mrs. Nursewood!" A breathless boy of about 14 ran up. "They're looking for you. Some people want to buy a picture."

"Oh! Thanks, Jerry." She turned to Eddie. "I have to go. Sorry."

"Not a problem. Best of luck. Maybe another time . . ."

She handed him a small card, thanked him again, and hurried after the boy.

******

"So just how long have you been coming to Palm Sands?" Eddie tossed off the question as a conversation starter.

"About five years now." Gail honked and then swung past a gawking tourist. "It isn't the Taj Mahal but it's comfy enough and not too busy. How did you find it?"

"Used to come down here with my wife. We stayed at a place next street over, but it's all changed, so I got my travel agent to find something similar in the same area."

"Your wife gone, Eddie?"

"Yep. Eight years now. Pancreatic cancer."

"So how long have you been retired?" She honked again, only this time to wave at a man getting into his car.

Eddie looked at his watch and she laughed.

"Really?"

"Less than a week. Got away as fast as possible." No point trying to conceal it if they aren't, he thought.

"What did you do?"

He was expecting the probe, and he afforded himself a small grin.

"Civil servant."

"Aah, the wheels of government, grinding."

"Yep." He interrupted her next question, pointing to the parking. "A new car. More guests?"

She wheeled skilfully between two cars and stopped, shutting down the engine. "No, that's Gil Levit's car. He visits Jim now and then."

Eddie nodded, thinking. GL, two initials on the notebook list. Interesting.

******

Jim sat in the living room behind the office, listening to his friend go on about dates, and times, and coincidences. His attention waning as facts were discarded in favour of speculation.

"Gil you're trying fit all that stuff into the picture you want to see. I told you, I checked and the man is legitimate. He's a retired cop, yes - emphasis on retired - but his being here has nothing to do with Biggs. A travel agent made his arrangements, and Palm Sands wasn't even his first choice. You're paranoid."

"It just doesn't feel right to me."

"Take an antacid and quit pestering me with nonsense."

"Oh, you're such a smart bu--"

The bell on the office door silenced the man, and Jim got up and went to the doorway.

"Mr. Banks. What can I do for you?"

"Nothing, thanks, just came in to look at the menus again. By the way, Anthony's was a good choice. Good meal and a free drink."

"Glad to hear it. Co- Mr. Anthony does it up real fine."

"This Rancho Mexico, any good?"

"It's a new ownership. Why, you like Mex?"

"Don't know, closest I've been is a taco chip. Think I'll give it a try."

Jim waited until the door closed, and went back inside.

"That him?"

"Yes."

"See, he's askin' about Rancho Mexico. I told you." Gil wiped his face with a pocket hanky and squared his shoulders.

"He picked from a stack of menus. Christ, man!"

"Fine, be a prick. I'm tellin' you he's not kosher."

"Gil, go home and get a massage from your girl. You need to chill."

"It's fine for you, you don't have Ashby on your back."

"No, I have you. Now will you bugger off?"