“In a manner of speaking,” Tandy said.
“Aw, Tandy,” said the man, grinning and gawking.
“He’s—” Kirby frowned, then leaned toward the man. “I’m sorry, I forgot your name again.”
“Oh! Wull, uh, it’s Albert.”
“Albert, this is Valerie.”
“How do you do?”
“Wull, this is wonderful You live here, do you? On this island.” “For now,” Valerie said.
Smiling at Valerie, Kirby said, “You’ll never guess. Albert has a great interest in pre-Columbian art.”
Valerie found herself grinning from ear to ear, enjoying Kirby’s pleasure. “Is that right?” she said.
“Oh, wull, yes. Back in Ventura, I converted the entire west wing to a kind of museum.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“You must come see it.”
“Maybe we will,” Valerie told him.
“Albert is very interested,” Kirby said, “in Mayan treasures in particular. I thought we might have a nice talk about that.”
“That would be fun,” Valerie said.
Kirby put an arm around her shoulders, saying, “We’ll unload Cynthia later. First I think we ought to go up to the house and settle in and have a drink. Tandy and Albert are gonna stay over, we’ll do a little cookout, then all four of us go back to San Pedro tomorrow, have a nice sit-down restaurant dinner. What do you want? El Tulipan or The Hut?”
“Let me think about it,” Valerie said. I’ll wear this skirt, she thought.
They started up from the beach toward the house. Still with his arm around Valerie’s shoulders, Kirby bent his head and gave her a quizzical look, saying, “Don’t you think you’re overdressed?” Valerie laughed.
Westlake, Donald E - Novel 43 Page 30
