‘You look young,’ the girl said, ‘but you can’t be that young.’ She studied me for a moment. ‘I like blonds,’ she added. ‘Blond-haired men send me.’
She was still blithely unaware of the fact that I wasn’t interested, nor did she fully realize just how far I intended to send her.
‘Little girl,’ I said, ‘I don’t think you un—’
‘Blanche,’ she corrected, raising one eyebrow.
‘All right, Blanche. Why don’t you go home, Blanche?’
‘I want to stay here.’
‘So do I.’
‘That can be arranged.’
‘No, Blanche, it can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘I snore. I’d keep you awake.’
‘That’s the whole idea,’ she said.
‘Honey...’
‘See,’ she said, leaping on the word, ‘you’re getting affectionate already.’
‘I’ll get so affectionate in the next ten minutes that I’m liable to kick you out of here on your ass.’
Blanche giggled. ‘That sounds like fun.’
‘Look,’ I said, ‘you’ve drawn a blank. Chalk it up to experience and go home.’
‘I’m staying,’ she said flatly.
‘I’d hate like hell to really scare you,’ I said.
‘Go ahead. Really scare me.’
‘I’m a cop.’
She studied me levelly for a moment and then said, ‘Sure. And I’m a robber. Let’s play cops and robbers.’
‘Do I have to show the tin?’
‘The what?’
I sighed heavily. ‘Blanche, let’s play this straight. I don’t know who steered you to this cabin, but whoever did made a mistake. I didn’t order anything. I’m not interested. I’m tired, I’m sleepy, I don’t like redheads, and I don’t like seventeen-year-old kids who should be home reading comic books. Now don’t force me to get tough, and don’t force me—’
‘I wouldn’t dream of forcing you,’ she said coyly.
‘Oh, for Christ’s sake!’ I exploded.
‘Now you’re swearing.’
‘How old are you, Blanche?’
‘Why?’
‘I’m interested.’
‘I figured you’d eventually get interested. I’m over eighteen. Stop worrying.’
‘When were you born?’
‘What?’
‘When were you born?’
Blanche chewed her lip, thinking furiously. Then, at last, she said, ‘Eighteen years and three months ago.’
‘Give or take a few.’
‘You’re a real worry wart. Have I asked you how old you are?’
‘Where do you live, Blanche?’
‘In town.’
‘Sullivan’s Corners?’
‘The Corners? I wouldn’t be caught dead there.’
‘Where then?’
‘Davistown.’ She paused. ‘It’s a real big city.’
‘I’m sure it is.’
‘It is,’ she said, suddenly sparking with adolescent rebellion. ‘How would you know? You ever been there?’
‘No,’ I admitted.
‘Then okay.’
‘Okay.’
‘If we’re going to sit and talk, let’s make ourselves comfortable,’ she said, her anger suddenly dissipating.
‘We’re not going to sit and talk,’ I told her. ‘I’m going to sleep. You’re going home to that huge metropolis of yours.’
‘I couldn’t get there tonight if I wanted to. I haven’t got a car.’ She reached behind her for the zipper on her dress.
‘Hold it right there, Blanche,’ I said. I fished into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. I let it fall open to where my shield was pinned to the leather. Blanche studied it with mild interest.
‘A detective, huh?’ she asked casually.
‘I said I was a cop.’
‘So what? Are you on duty?’
‘Twenty-four hours a day.’
‘Don’t give me that bull,’ she said. She looked at the shield again. ‘You ain’t even from this state. You got no authority here.’
‘I imagine I can pull a little weight with the local police,’ I said, remembering my earlier brush with the trooper and the j.p. and doubting my statement even as I said it.
‘You think so?’ Blanche said, raising the eyebrow again, her voice edged with sarcasm.
‘I think so,’ I bluffed.
‘What would you charge me with?’
‘Soliciting.’
‘Anybody in this room expose her privates?’
‘Not yet,’ I said.
‘Then climb off your soapbox.’ She paused and then grinned. ‘Your scare didn’t scare me. You’re a cop, okay. Ain’t cops human?’
‘We’re human.’
‘Good. Let’s start acting that way.’
We both fell silent. I didn’t know what she was thinking, but I was trying to figure a new approach. I suppose I could have picked her up and thrown her out but she was, after all, a kid — and I’m not in the habit of knocking kids around.
‘Let’s take it from the top,’ I said.
‘Let’s.’
‘One: what do you want here?’
‘I thought that was obvious.’
‘Two: how much?’ The reason I asked this was simple. If I could establish her price, I was willing to give her the money to get rid of her.
Blanche grinned. ‘First time, the treat’s on me,’ she said.
‘Oh?’
‘It begins to sound interestinger and interestinger, doesn’t it?’ she asked.
‘It begins to sound fishier and fishier,’ I told her. ‘Why me?’
‘Why not? I told you. I like blond men.’
‘Blond cops?’
‘Blond men. Cops are men, same as any others,’
‘And your business is men, huh?’
‘My business is men.’
‘You’re a little young to be in business for yourself, aren’t you?’
‘American initiative,’ she said. ‘Supply and demand. There’s a big demand.’
‘Then why give it away?’
‘Mister, you should learn never to look a gift horse, you know what I mean?’
‘Sister,’ I said, ‘you should learn about leading horses to water.’
‘Huh?’
‘Forget it.’
‘Good. I’m glad that’s settled.’ She unzipped her dress and started shrugging out of it.
‘The minute that hits the floor, I dial the local cops,’ I said.
‘The dress hit the floor, and she stepped out of it, grinning. ‘Ain’t no phone,’ she told me.
She was surprisingly well-built. The tight dress had somehow made her look thinner than she actually was. She owned good hips and firm thighs, and since she hadn’t removed her high-heeled shoes her legs were long and shapely and tapering. She wore only white nylon bikini panties, no bra. Her flesh, below the neck, had a healthy glow to it. Her face, covered with make-up, looked sickly against it.
‘Nice?’ she asked, still grinning.
‘Lovely,’ I said. ‘Put on your dress and get the hell out.’
‘I’m staying,’ she said. ‘Let’s get that straight. I’m not leaving. I’m sleeping in this cabin tonight.’ She tossed her red tresses in the direction of the bed. ‘In that bed.’
‘My fiancée is in the cabin next door,’ I said.
‘She scares me, too,’ Blanche said.
‘She’s a big girl. She’s liable to be a little rougher with you than I care to be.’
‘I can handle big girls and big boys too,’ Blanche said. She looked at me archly and said, ‘Admit it. I’m a nice package, ain’t I?’
‘Sure,’ I said.
‘And I came gift-wrapped. God, but some men are lucky.’
‘Go wash your face,’ I said.
‘I always do,’ she answered, and she wiggled over to the sink. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched her, somewhat bewildered. I honestly didn’t know what to do next. I was toying with the idea of taking a blanket and going to sleep in the woods outside. I was also fighting to keep my eyes open. The water splashed into the sink with monotonous regularity. Finally, Blanche began drying herself. When she pulled the towel away from her face, she looked more like fifteen than the eighteen she claimed. I began to feel like a father about to hear a recounting of his daughter’s evening at the junior high school prom.