"Hey, you know what? I was free when I was in. I didn't drink or smoke or do drugs or screw around with any dumb-ass guys. You know what I did? I picked up computer skills. I learned to upholster a chair, which I'll bet you sure as shit can't do. I read books and made the kind of friends who'd give their lives for me. I didn't know how happy I was till I got out in this kiss-ass world. I don't give a shit about Holloway. She can do anything she wants."

"Okay by me. It's your lookout," I said.

Reba's sullen gaze was fixed on the bank of elevators directly across from us. Above each elevator there was an old-fashioned half-moon of brass, with a moving brass arrow indicating the progress of the elevators going up or coming down. I watched as the last elevator in line paused at the eighth floor and then worked its way down. The doors slid open and Marty Blumberg emerged. Reba waved and he headed in our direction. When he reached our table, she tilted her head so he could kiss her cheek. "You're lookin' good," he said.

"Thanks. So are you."

Marty pulled out a chair with a glance at me. "Nice seeing you again," he said. His attention shifted back to her. "Everything okay?"

"We're cool. I left something for you at the desk. Thanks for this," she said, patting her bag.

He reached into the pocket of his sport coat and took out a claim check that he slid across the table.

"What's this for?"

"Surprise. A little something extra," he said.

Reba glanced at the claim check and slipped it in her purse. "I hope it's something good."

"I think you'll like it," he said. "What's your timetable? Can you hang out long enough to have dinner with me?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but Reba surprised me by wrinkling her nose, saying, "Nah, better not. Kinsey's anxious to get home. Maybe some other time."

"God willing and the creek don't rise."

Marty took out a cigarette pack and placed it on the table. Without asking, Reba helped herself to one, which she stuck between her teeth, giving it a waggle to request a light. Marty picked up a packet of hotel matches, struck one, held the flame to her cigarette, and then fired up one for himself.