When we stopped at my car, Vanilla turned slightly in the seat, said, “You could go with me.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“You can.”
“All right. I can. But I won’t.”
“The redhead?”
“That’s some of it, yes.”
“And Leonard.”
“Yep.”
Vanilla nodded. She smiled. “I don’t know, Hap. I don’t understand it. Why they mean so much to you.”
“I don’t think I can explain it.”
“There’s another thing I don’t understand.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Why am I attracted to you?”
“It’s the way I dress.”
“Hardly,” she said.
As I put a foot outside the door, Vanilla said, “You ever been to Europe?”
“No.”
“Italy is a wonderful country,” she said. “Beautiful people. The best food you can imagine. Scenery that has to be seen to be believed.”
“You go there often?”
“I’ve never been to Italy. But I’ve read about it.”
“You believe everything you read?”
“Only when I want to. The money I got, I don’t need to do anything anymore but lie on a beach in a bikini somewhere and soak up the sun. I might just retire there. Maybe you could come see me?”
“All I can say is I owe you one,” I said.
“Oh, that was a freebie. That wasn’t for anybody but myself. I didn’t feel good or bad about it before, but now, sitting here, I’m starting to get the warm fuzzies. I liked the way Ms. Clinton looked when I shot her. Lean over here.”
I did. She kissed me gently and quickly on the lips.
“Our secret,” she said.
I didn’t know what to say to that.
I got out of the car with my shotgun and she backed around and was gone.