Page 3 of Cutter’s Lady

“Avery!” Leslie swung toward him, outraged. “We aren’t hiring this… this…”

“Bum?” Cutter suggested, amusement touching his eyes.

“Yes. Thank you.” She gave him a curt nod before turning back to Avery. “This bum.”

“Happy to help.” Cutter ground out his cigarette in an ashtray.

“Leslie… what choice do we have?”

“We’ll find someone else. There’s got to be someone else.”

“Don’t worry, lady.” Cutter’s mouth twisted wryly and he leaned back in his seat, signaling the bartender for another round. “I wouldn’t take the job anyway. It’s hard to compensate someone for getting his head blown off.”

Leslie gave her companion a glance that clearly said, I told you so. Avery sighed. “Leslie, Mr. Cutter…”

“It’s just Cutter,” the other man said shortly.

“Yes, of course. Cutter. Look, both of you are being too hasty. Obviously we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot tonight. I suggest we meet tomorrow and discuss this again, when we’re all feeling better.”

Leslie sighed. “Come on, Avery, stop playing the diplomat. This isn’t an international treaty.”

“Leslie, please, for my sake. We’ll have a meal and discuss all this in a more relaxing atmosphere—it’ll be my treat.”

“Oh, all right. Although I don’t see what purpose it will serve. Well, besides, filling this man’s stomach with something other than booze.”

Avery turned to Cutter. Cutter raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “I suspect it will sound even more insane sober, but I’m not one to turn down free food.”

“Excellent. What time?”

“Not too early.”

“Heaven forbid you rush your morning routine. I can see it must take some time to get your hair just so under that ridiculous cowboy hat.” Leslie eyed the crow’s nest of brown hair she’d been purposefully trying to avoid looking at earlier for fear of appearing rude. That fear had disappeared after a few minutes in Cutter’s company, though. “It’s not as though there’s a ticking clock and a man’s life at stake.”

“True, I wouldn’t want to delay you too much. I assume you’ll need to move on to San Cristóbal soon and I hear it takes longer to travel by broom than by plane.”

Leslie opened her mouth to retort, but Avery held up both hands, one facing her and the other facing Carter as if he could physically stop their jibes. “Fantastic. How about noon?”

“Okay. I’ll meet you at Purcell Café.” He gestured leftward with his thumb. “Down the street.”

“Very good. And tonight you might try thinking about that money.” Avery stepped out of the booth, and Leslie followed him quickly. Avery reached inside his jacket and removed a folded envelope, which he extended to Cutter. “Here’s a note for you from Mr. Harlan. I hope it will help you make up your mind.”

Frowning, Cutter took the envelope. Leslie and Avery turned to leave, but Cutter’s voice stopped them. “By the way, just out of curiosity, who is this Blake guy to you?”

“My husband,” Leslie answered crisply.

Cutter grinned, lending his face a brief, unexpected charm. “He probably figures he’s safer with the guerrillas.”

***

“Terrific.” Leslie flopped into the front seat of the Lexus and leaned her head back against the plush leather headrest. “Now we’re stuck out here until tomorrow. Where do you think we’re going to spend the night in this godforsaken place? I’m not staying in Harry Zymchek’s motel slash bar!”

“Temper, temper.” Avery smiled. “I think our Mr. Cutter rather got under your skin. Not that that is an altogether bad thing. Most men can barely get a reaction of any kind from you and he is quite good-looking, in a scruffy sort of way.”

“Scruffy? I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he has a permanent infestation of bed bugs on his person.” Leslie fixed Avery with her hardest look. “And worse than that, he’s a drunk. Which makes him completely unreliable.”

“Come on, Les, aren’t you being a little hard on the guy? So he’d tied one on tonight—wouldn’t you if you were stuck in Purcell, Texas?”

“That’s another thing. What is he doing here? Why is the world’s biggest expert on San Cristóbal sitting in a bar in the middle of nowhere? Why doesn’t he have a cell phone or a home?”