We showed up on the Russian River separately, me first and Linda about two weeks later. We’d been caught running a game on a widower that she had met at an AA meeting. She’d figured out that some of those meetings, the ones in the nicer parts of town, were a good place to find emotionally hard up people who were looking for a new life, something to ease the pain they felt, maybe even someone who could help them ease it. She wanted to help this guy George from the first time he stood up and introduced himself. She said it was the tailored suit he had on, and that big-ass diamond ring on his right hand. She always could spot the needy ones.

Unfortunately, a few weeks after she started helping him, George came home sick from a Pebble Beach weekend with his golfing buddies and found the two of us naked in his pool. It didn’t take George long to realize that the money she was getting him to donate for homeless veteran’s relief was going to her own favorite homeless vet, me. Oh yeah, I served in the Army. For a while. But that’s a different story.

I slugged old George and tied him up so that we could clean out his stuff and get out of there. I told her to meet me in Monte Rio in a couple weeks and then I took off while she packed her things. I went back to my motel on Lombard and got my bag and headed north across the Golden Gate.

I’d been thinking about the old resort town on the river as a place where she might meet some rich guys because of the Bohemian Grove Encampment there. These billionaires and their lackey politicians come up there and act like frat boys for a couple weeks every summer. That’s what they are under their rich man uniforms. Spoiled little frat boys.

It seemed like a place that Linda might be able to do us some good, so she got a job cocktail waitressing at the one of the local dives and we waited for the big event. We faked a new friendship, like we had just met, and I would come in every night and hang out. We each had our own room at the motel and we played it straight. Just good friends dating a little, but nothing serious. I told the locals I was a consultant for venture capitalists, looking for promising people and businesses. People really open up when you mention venture capital.

But it was hard to pay both rents on what she was making, so I was thinking about pulling off some burglaries over in Guerneville. Even though Linda had saved a good bit of what she got from George, she said she wasn’t about to spend any of it and she expected me to start bringing in something. She said she was building her retirement fund. I don’t know exactly how much she had, but with the savings and the cash from selling George’s dead old lady’s jewelry and his various Rolexes and the big-ass diamond ring, she must have had 35, 40 grand.

She was also starting to complain about listening to the same tired bullshit of the local loggers and hippie craft makers every night and she was starting to get bored. I knew we had to have some action soon because Linda can be a problem when she’s bored.

Linda is a gorgeous woman. She should have been in the movies or on TV. She’s one of those chicks that sex comes off of in waves, like perfume. You could look at her and say her nose is a little crooked and her skin is not perfect, but when she walks into a room all the men lose concentration and their women start watching them, thinking maybe it’s time to go home. Clinging material and expensive jewelry are made with women like Linda in mind. She’s dark hair and dark eyes and dark nights full of moody jazz and red wine. If she has one flaw, it’s her larcenous heart.

For you, a flaw. For me, no problem.

One night I didn’t go in to the bar. I told Linda it was because I was tired, but really I didn’t have any money and she was getting sick of paying my bar tab.

That was the night she met Winston.

When she got off work she came right to my room to tell me about him. She was as excited as I’d seen in her in a while. I poured her a glass of Sonoma County zinfandel and sat back and listened.

She started by saying that the guy gave her the creeps from the first. Not only was his face a smooth and lipless thing that was an obvious result of some heavy plastic surgery, but she didn’t like the way he followed her everywhere with his eyes. He sat by himself at the bar, drank a few Heinekens, and kept trying to talk to her even though she wasn’t very nice to him. Then she saw his wallet. He pulled it out to pay for a beer and she said it looked like a very expensive accessory, which immediately got her attention, and when he fanned through a dozen or so hundreds before he found a twenty to pass to the bartender, she decided to get a little friendlier.

Long story short, he starts telling her about his accident. He was on his way to work as a welder when he came up against the usual sea of taillights at the Bay Bridge toll plaza. He put on his flashers and looked in the mirror and saw this guy in a pickup coming way too fast to stop. The guy saw him at the last second, but it was too late and the impact pushed Winston and his VW bug into the big rig in front of him. He hit his face on the steering wheel, which laid his whole jaw down on his neck and took out all his teeth. He said he was stunned but not knocked out, and he remembers looking up and seeing himself in the mirror and trying to say something that came out as a gurgle. That’s what left him with the face that Linda calls a “creepy monster mask” and a major addiction to painkillers.

Oh, and a two million dollar settlement from the guy’s insurance company.

Just before closing time she sat talking with him in a booth, and he told her he’d come up to the river to look for property and was digging it here, so he’d rented a place near Cazadero and was planning on sticking around. He asked her to join him for dinner the next night, but she was so freaked by the idea of sitting with him at a restaurant while he put food into his slit of a mouth, that she stammered something about her boyfriend and she thanked him and told him maybe later, she’d see.

Now she was telling me she just had to get over the creeps, because this looked like her big break, and she asked me to help her come up with ideas for how to get some, or all, of his money.

I noticed she’d said her big break, not ours, but I didn’t say anything. I’m a realist. I’m not in love with her. I think love is for chumps. But I did enjoy fucking her, and she always took good care of me because I believe fucking is supposed to be a two way street. Women tell me they wish more guys understood that. I have to say that she was the best I’ve ever had, and she told me she always liked my dedication to her needs. Maybe that’s love for people like Linda and me.

I said I needed some time to think, and I hit her up for enough cash for a couple of rounds of golf and some drinks, since she would likely be busy with Winston that weekend. She got up and took some money from her purse and tossed it on the dresser and then she stretched out on the bed. I took off her shoes and hovered over her, kissing her neck and shoulders while I unbuttoned her blouse and unhooked her bra. I pushed up her skirt, and she whispered “Oh, Benny,” when I slowly pulled down her panties.

I loved her long and slow, thinking that I might not have another opportunity anytime soon. I was so right. She quit her job and moved in with him the next weekend.

We talked on the phone a few times a week after that. He was watching her like a hawk, so we didn’t have much time to talk when we did run into each other at the post office or the bar. She kept sending me checks, so I was making it, but I wanted to get to work on Winston as soon as I could.

One day she called and told me to meet her at the Safeway in Guerneville. We sat in my car in the shade and caught up. She told me he was OK, he treated her well, but she hated him touching her and he couldn’t seem to get enough. She said he was naïve about women and paranoid about his looks, and he wondered what she saw in him. She thought he was ready for picking. Most of all she wanted out, and she thought it was time for me to earn my keep.

We decided to work him with a reloading game. She’d invite me and this coke whore we knew from the bar, Marie, for a barbecue at his place and I’d set him up for a short turnaround on a bullshit tech operation. He’d make a little on it, we’d use Linda’s money for his profit, and then I’d work him for a big payday. I thought it would take a couple weeks. She was impatient but she agreed.

She looked so fine, sitting there in her cutoffs and sandals, the little yellow sleeveless blouse against her tan and the dark hair tumbling around her face. I couldn’t keep my hands off her and she wasn’t telling me not to. We got so hot in the car we started talking about going back to my place for a quickie. But Linda put on the brakes. It wasn’t worth the risk of him or someone else seeing us. The Russian River area is really just a small town and so far no one knew anything about us that we hadn’t told them. No sense messing this deal up for some unsatisfactory screwing.

I had to sit there and watch that sweet ass walk to his Porsche and drive away. It was killing me, so I went to the driving range and punished some golf balls. It didn’t really help.

That weekend was the barbecue, on Sunday. It went well, better than I’d thought it would. Linda seemed to have a good time, and Marie flirted with Winston while she helped him grill the salmon and corn-on-the-cob. Margaritas and laughs for all.

The guy seemed angry to me, though. Something stirring underneath. I caught him looking at me a couple times when I talked to Linda alone. A strange, flat look, his eyes the only live thing in his face. I chalked it up to jealousy. With a mug like his you’d have to worry that some other guy was going to snag your woman.

I tried the buddy-buddy thing with him, asked him to go golfing, maybe play a little tennis. He said he wasn’t into sports and asked abruptly about the tech thing that Linda had mentioned, so I cast my line and sent a lure out to him and he went for it. The fishing was good.

The way it would work was that he’d front me some money which I was supposed to give to a Silicon Valley startup so they could take their product to a meeting with a big investor in Vegas the following weekend. They needed to wine and dine the guy a little, and at this point they just couldn’t afford it. I’d have his money plus interest in three weeks. He was going to hold some shares in their company until he got his payoff. There was some risk, but also a high reward. He gave me 5 grand, which he had somewhere in the house. That fact got me thinking right there, but I just stashed the idea away for later.

I gave the money to Linda so I wouldn’t be tempted, she gave me my allowance, and I went to Santa Rosa for a few days of hanging with my buddy Sims, a dealer at a card parlor and a fanatic horse player I knew from the service. Sims knew some ladies, and had some coke, and a week went by almost before I realized it. It was time to get back to the river for phase two. I’d tell Winston I’d heard from the startup guys and he’d have his money in a few days. Then I’d start priming him for the big hit. 150K.

It would be the same kind of thing, a startup needing money for development, a one month turnaround, only this time he’d make 25 grand. If I’d done my work right, Linda and I would be on the beach in Australia in just a little while. I was thinking a fine California girl like Linda would set those Aussies on fire.

The four of us went to Jenner for a sunset dinner that Sunday evening at a place clinging to a cliff overlooking the mouth of the river, where it empties into the ocean. It’s one of those settings that people think of when they think of California. I’d told Marie to really lay it on to Winston, get him thinking that he could get both her and Linda into bed at the same time. I’d pay for everything, the best wine and food, whatever anyone wanted, and I’d give Winston his payoff. Afterward we’d go to a club I knew and that would all be on me too.

Winston was very quiet. He didn’t say much, and Marie’s boobs poking him in the arm didn’t seem to be getting her anywhere. He got up to go to the restroom and Linda said he’d been like that for a few days and she thought we’d better get the thing going because she had a feeling something was about to change.

When he came back from the can, I just started talking about the new thing and almost before I’d explained it, he’d agreed. He said he’d have to go to the city to get that much money in cash, and he had a dental appointment there anyway, so he’d leave in the morning and come back by Friday night. We had after-dinner cognacs by the fire in the bar, and then he said he wanted to go home. Well, it saved me some of Linda’s money.

We said good night and I drove back to Monte Rio and dropped Marie off at the bar even though she was rubbing me through my pants and wanting to go to my place. I gave her a twenty before she got out of the car and told her to keep quiet about anything she’d heard. She acted insulted that I would think such a thing.

The next morning I got up early. I usually sleep until 10 at least, but that morning I was wide awake at 7. I was ready to get this thing over with. We’d been hanging around for what seemed like months, and I was definitely missing Linda and wanting to have her all to myself. I figured Winston would give me the cash on Saturday, we’d all get together on Sunday for one last bash, I’d head for the city on Monday and Linda would join me there as soon as she could clean him out and split. Maybe Wednesday we’d be in LA getting our visas and tickets. So, about a week and a half was all we had to wait. Eternity was all it was.

I could picture our room at the Surf Rider Motel in Playa del Rey near LAX. The big bed with the clean white sheets, the balcony, and the dark blue ocean outside stretching all the way to Down Under. That’s where Linda and I would start to make up for lost time.

I got dressed and walked across the bridge into downtown Monte Rio, figuring I’d get a cup of coffee and read the paper at the café, and then go back to the room and wait to hear from Linda. I was sitting in a window booth watching the regular folks go about their daily rituals, going to the P.O., the hardware store, the meat market, all that salt of the earth shit, when Winston drove by in the Porsche and turned left over the bridge, heading out of town.

I threw some money on the table and hustled to the phone booth across the street and called Linda. She answered sleepy voiced and irritated. I told her what I’d seen and she asked me to hold for a minute.   

When she came back she sounded more awake, and happier than I’d heard her in a long time. His suitcase was gone, and his toilet kit too, and he’d left her a note saying he’d see her Friday night and he’d call to let her know where he was staying. I told her to stay right there in bed because I was on my way. She laughed and told me to stay cool, there was time. She wanted to make sure he was gone, that he didn’t forget something and come back, and she also wanted to wait ‘til evening so the neighbors would be less likely to see me. I could see the wisdom of that, though it was not easy to control what was stirring in my pants.

I said I was going to search that house for wherever it was that he had gotten the cash that day, and she said she had some ideas about where to look. Then she sighed and moaned a little and told me she was getting wet just talking to me. I told her to hold that thought all day and I’d fix her plumbing that night. She moaned again, and whispered that if everything was cool she’d call me at 6 and then the line went dead.

I stood there for a minute, a little light headed and confused. She had me so hot I couldn’t even think straight. I bought a left over Sunday Examiner and a deli sandwich at the market and walked back across the bridge to my motel to wait.

She finally called at 6:30. I was getting ready to call her when the phone rang. She’d just hung up from him, and called me right away. He was at the St. Francis and he wouldn’t be coming back until Friday. She said she heard a cable car bell in the background when he was talking, so she knew he was in the city. I didn’t waste time. I hung up, put the little .22 in my shaving kit and headed out River Road.

I parked off the road and around the bend from their place and approached slowly, as if I was just out for a stroll. The house was set back behind some redwoods and I cut through them and went around to the back patio. I saw her in the kitchen slicing up some limes. She was dressed nice in a kind of flowing pants outfit. It wasn’t going to be on her long. I startled her when I went in, and she dropped the knife, but she recovered right away and started to laugh. I didn’t say anything, just picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. She was ready and so was I.

The next couple of days were like a honeymoon, or as close to one as I was ever going to have. We went to the beach, and drove up to Sea Ranch, and into Santa Rosa for a movie. But when we woke up Thursday morning we both knew that crunch time was coming and we started to talk about it.

There was no way she was going to marry him and then off him for his insurance. She said to forget that, she couldn’t stand to be with him any longer. She asked me who was going to kill him. Not her. She wanted to stick to the plan and just be satisfied with the 150. We’re still young, she said. She said we had plenty of time to make big hits. I’d never heard her talk that way before, about the future. Usually when a woman started talking like that I started to look for the exit. But Linda was different somehow.

We spent that day going through the house locating the valuables and searching for his stash of cash. Linda had checked it all out of course, and so mostly it was her showing me what she was going to take with her. We looked high and low but never found more cash than the two hundred he’d left in his desk drawer. It was bugging me because I had a feeling there was more money hidden somewhere in that house. Linda was laughing at me and finally got me to drop it by doing a slow strip and getting into the spa on the deck.

That’s where we were when they walked across the lawn and up the steps.

First Winston, then a big ugly Samoan, and then George.

I had planned to leave early that day, taking into account Winston’s paranoia, and for some reason thinking about George having walked in on us that time. But it was too late then, and all I could do was sit there in the nice warm water and speculate about what was likely to happen next. The presence of the Samoan didn’t give me hope that things would be settled in a gentlemanly fashion.

I shut off the pump and listened to the water sloshing around in the tub as it settled down. It was pretty quiet until Linda started talking in a rush about how sorry she was and how she would leave right away and would Winston please go get her a robe.

I started to get up, but George just pointed at me and the Samoan took a step forward and that was enough, I sat back down. I wasn’t quite ready for my ass whipping yet.

Winston told Linda to go to the bedroom, and his voice was quiet and calm and had a sound to it almost like a computerized recording. Go. To. The. Bed-room. And. Wait. I wondered if I’d mentioned to her that the pistol was in my shaving kit in the bathroom as I watched her run on tiptoe through the open slider and into the house. She looked so vulnerable and wet and scared.

   I put the whole thing together in a New York second, as they say. You can con a con man, and George had worked the long game on Linda and me as slick as I’d ever seen. There were questions I wanted to ask but I knew that George was in no mood to answer them. Instead I listened to him while he explained how easy it was to find a guy like Winston. When you have money, a guy like Winston, with his contacts, and his particular specialties, was just a phone call away. George turned toward Winston when he mentioned those specialties, and they both smiled, and Winston patted the leather briefcase he was holding. I realized I’d never seen Winston smile before. It wasn’t pretty.

And I also had an idea what was in that briefcase. I put a mental picture of how Linda looked that day in the Safeway parking lot away in my mind so I’d have it for later. 

Then George walked over and hit me with the grip end of the putter he was carrying and I dropped my head and watched my blood drip into the hot tub and I waited for another one. It didn’t come right then. He just told me he’d see me after while, and then he and Winston went into the house, leaving me shivering in the tub. The Samoan found a barstool and sat himself down with his back to the wall. I thought about the .22 again, but I knew I’d never get to it.

In a couple of minutes I heard a stifled scream from Linda and then I got really scared.

The Samoan just looked at me and smiled.

The End