R is for Ricochet (Kinsey Millhone 18)

Reba said, "Not bad. I was actually thinking of coming back to work."

Onni's expression was incredulous, as though Reba had farted in the presence of Elizabeth II.

Reba ignored her reaction, addressing her remarks to Beck. "Yeah, I mentioned it to my parole officer and she was all for it as long as my 'prospective employer' knew about my past," she said, forming quote marks with her fingers. "I figured who better than you?"

Smoothly, he said, "Reeb, I'd love to help, but it doesn't seem smart."

"It's ridiculous," Onni snapped. "You robbed him blind."

Reba shifted her gaze. "Onni, I'm sorry, but you don't get it. Beck trusts me. He knows I'd do anything for him." She looked back at him. "Right?"

Beck rearranged his legs, pulling himself into an upright position, his tone mild. "It's not a question of trust. There's no position. It's as simple as that. I wish we had an opening, but we don't."

"You could make one, couldn't you? I remember you did that for Abner."

"Different situation. Marty was overloaded and needed the help. I had no choice in that case."

"But you have one with me, is that it? You could choose to help me, but you won't?"

He reached out and grabbed one of her fingers, giving it a shake. "Hey, babe, remember? I'm on your team."

Reba studied him with care, the lean, handsome face, the hand touching hers. "You said you'd take care of me. You owe me."

"Hey, anything you want."

"Except work."

Onni snorted and rolled her eyes. "What gall! How do you have the fucking nerve to sit there and argue the point after what you did?"

Beck said, "Cool it, Onni. This is between her and me."

"Well, pardon the hell out of me. I just think someone should set this girl straight. She wreaked havoc on the company and for what? So she could go on indulging herself, blowing every nickel she could get her hands on at the poker table? My god!"

I half-expected Beck to belt her in the mouth, but he focused on Reba's face. He took her hand, placing her index finger against his lip. The effect was erotic, some intensely private communication taking place between them. "Forget about work. Take a little time for yourself. Do something nice, like that spa in Floral Beach. I can have Ed set it up. You've been through tough times, I understand that, but talk about work is premature."

"I have to do something with my life," she said, her eyes pinned on his.

"I know, babe. I hear you. All I'm saying is you need to take it slow. I don't want you rushing into anything you might regret."

Reba smiled. "Like what? Coming back to work for you?"

"Like getting stressed out, upset, when there's no reason to. You need to keep it low-key. Kick back and relax while you have the chance."

Onni said something under her breath. She shoved her arms into the sleeves of her jacket and shrugged herself into it, straightening her lapels. She reached for her cigarettes and tucked them in her bag, then stood, saying, "Night, folks. I'm out of here." Her manner seemed to be matter-of-fact unless you knew what was going on.

"Give me five minutes and I'll drive you home," Beck said to her.

Onni's smile was brittle. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'd rather walk."

"You won't make it a block in those heels."

"Not your problem, champ. I'll figure it out."

"Cut the crap, Onni. Have Jack call you a cab. I'll square the fare with him on my way out."

"Not to worry. I'm a big girl. I think I can manage to call a cab on my own. Meantime, enjoy Panama. And thanks for the drink. It was really swell, you fucking jerk."

Reba turned her head, watching as Onni walked away. "What's her problem?"

"Forget it. She gets bored anytime the topic of conversation moves to something other than her," Beck said.

Reba said, "What's the deal with Panama? When did that come up?"

"It's just a quick trip. Couple of days."

"Why couldn't you take me with you? Like a minivacation. You could take care of business while I sit by the pool and get some sun. It'd be great."

"Baby, this is strictly solo. I've got wall-to-wall meetings. You'd be bored to tears."

"No, I wouldn't. I can amuse myself. Come on, Beck. We've hardly had a minute together. We could have a ball. Please, please, please?"

He smiled. "You nut. I'd do it in a heartbeat if I thought we could get it past your PO. Trust me, if you're not allowed to leave the state, you sure as hell wouldn't be allowed to leave the continental U.S.A."