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such a small office。 What did you say you needed it for？〃
〃Secretarial work。 Free…lance secretarial。〃 She moved to the other window； ignoring him。 He followed every move。
〃I see。 How long will you need it？〃
〃Six months； with an option for a year。〃
〃Okay； for six months we can lease it for three…fifty a month。〃
She did not flinch or look from the window。 She slid her right foot out of the shoe and rubbed the left calf with it。 The seam continued； he observed； under the heel and along the bottom of the foot。 The toenails were 。 。 。 red！ She cocked her rear to the left and leaned on the windowsill。 His file was shaking。
〃I'll pay two…fifty a month；〃 she said with authority。
He cleared his throat。 There was no sense being greedy。 The tiny rooms were dead space； useless to anyone else； and had not been occupied in years。 The building could use a free…lance secretary。 Hell； he might even need a free…lance secretary。
〃Three hundred； but no less。 This building is in demand。
Ninety percent occupied right now。 Three hundred a month； and that's too low。 We're barely covering costs at that。〃
She turned suddenly； and there they were。 Staring at him。 The cashmere was stretched tightly around them。 〃The ad said there were furnished offices available；〃 she said。
〃We can furnish this one；〃 he said； eager to cooperate。 〃What do you need？〃
She looked around the office。 〃I would like a secretarial desk with credenza in here。 Several file cabinets。 A couple of chairs for clients。 Nothing fancy。 The other room does not have to be furnished。 I'll put a copier in there；〃
〃No problem；〃 he said with a smile。
〃And I'll pay three hundred a month； furnished。〃
〃Good；〃 he said as he opened a file and withdrew a blank lease。 He laid it on a folding table and began writing。
〃Your name？〃
〃Doris Greenwood。〃 Her mother was Doris Greenwood； and she had been Tammy Inez Greenwood before she ran up on Buster Hemphill； who later became （legally） Elvis Aaron Hemphill； and life had pretty much been downhill since。 Her mother lived in Effingham； Illinois。
〃Okay； Doris；〃 he said with an effort at suaveness； as if they were now on a first…name basis and growing closer by the moment。 〃Home address？〃
〃Why do you need that？〃 she asked with irritation。
〃Well； uh； we just need that information。〃
〃It's none of your business。〃
〃Okay； okay。 No problem。〃 He dramatically scratched out that portion of the lease。 He hovered above it。 〃Let's see。 We'll run it from today； March 2； for six months until September 2。 Is that okay？〃
She nodded and lit a cigarette。
He read the next paragraph。 〃Okay； we require a three…hundred…dollar deposit and the first month's rent in advance。〃
From a pocket in the tight black leather skirt； she produced a roll of cash。 She counted six one…hundred…dollar bills and laid them on the table。 〃Receipt； please；〃 she demanded。
〃Certainly。〃 He continued writing。
〃What floor are we on？〃 she asked； returning to the windows。
〃Ninth。 There's a ten percent late charge past the fifteenth of the month。 We have the right to enter at any reasonable time to inspect。 Premises cannot be used for any illegal purpose。 You pay all utilities and insurance on contents。 You get one parking space in the lot across the street； and here are two keys。 Any questions？〃
〃Yeah。 What if I work odd hours？ I mean； real late at night。〃
〃No big deal。 You can e and go as you please。 After dark the security guard at the Front Street door will let you pass。〃
Tammy stuck the cigarette between her sticky lips and walked to the table。 She glanced at the lease； hesitated； then signed the name of Doris Greenwood。
They locked up； and he followed her carefully down the hall to the elevator。
By noon the next day； the odd assortment of furniture had been delivered and Doris Greenwood of Greenwood Services arranged the rented typewriter and the rented phone next to each other on the secretarial desk。 Sitting and facing the typewriter； she could look slightly to her left out the window and watch the traffic on Front Street。 She filled the desk drawers with typing paper； notepads； pencils； odds and ends。 She placed magazines on the filing cabinets and the small table between the two chairs where her clients would sit。
There was a knock at the door。 〃Who is it？〃 she asked。
〃It's your copier；〃 a voice answered。
She unlocked the door and opened it。 A short； hyperactive little man named Gordy rushed in； looked around the room and said rudely； 〃Okay； where do you want it？〃
〃In there；〃 Tammy said； pointing to the eight…by…ten empty room with no door on the hinges。 Two young men in blue uniforms pushed and pulled the cart holding the copier。
Gordy laid the paperwork on her desk。 〃It's a mighty big copier for this place。 We're talking ninety copies a minute with a collator and automatic feed。 It's a big machine。〃
〃Where do I sign？〃 she asked； ignoring the small talk。
He pointed with the pen。 〃Six months； at two…forty a month。 That includes service and maintenance and five hundred sheets of paper for the first two months。 You want legal or letter…sized？〃
〃Legal。〃
〃First payment due on the tenth； and same thereafter for five months。 Operator's manual is on the rack。 Call me if you have any questions。〃
The two servicemen gawked at the tight stonewashed jeans and the red heels and slowly left the office。 Gordy ripped off the yellow copy and handed it to her。 〃Thanks for the business；〃 he said。
She locked the door behind them。 She walked to the window next to her desk and looked north； along Front。 Two blocks up on the opposite side； floors four and five of the Bendini Building were visible。
He kept to himself with his nose buried deep in the books and the piles of paperwork。 He was too busy for any of them； except Lamar。 He was very much aware that his withdrawal was not going unnoticed。 So he worked harder。 Perhaps they would not be suspicious if he billed twenty hours a day。 Perhaps money could insulate him。
Nina left a box of cold pizza when she checked out after lunch。 He ate it while he cleared his desk。 He called Abby。 Said he was going to see Ray and that he would return to Memphis late Sunday。 He eased through the side door and into the parking lot。
For three and a half hours； he raced along Interstate 40 with his eyes on the rearview mirror。 Nothing。 He never saw them。 They probably just call ahead； he thought； and wait for him somewhere up there。 In Nashville； he made a sudden exit into downtown。 Using a map he had scribbled； he darted in and out of traffic； making U…turns wherever possible and in general driving like a nut。 To the south of town； he turned quickly into a large apartment plex and cruised between the buildings。 It was nice enough。 The parking lots were clean and the faces were white。 All of them。 He parked next to the office and locked the BMW。 The pay phone by the covered pool worked。 He called a cab and gave an address two blocks away。 He ran between the buildings； down a side street； and arrived precisely with the cab。 〃Greyhound bus station；〃 he said to the driver