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Show Night Keys/2 driver's name and the truck number, then swung the main gates open. Dollar sat sprawled in the swivel chair behind the guard desk with his hat back. He was talking on the telephone, his hand almost dwarfing the receiver. He handed Dollar the Odd Hours Report to sign, sat by the side of the desk, and gazed out the dark reflecting windows at the two wan lights at the top of the telephone poles in the parking lot. "You new here? Hey, you!" Dollar was talking to him. "You new here? What's your name?" "Harris." Dollar signed the Report and went back to the phone. "Aw baby? Where's Clarice? You know I love you, baby. What do you want to do that for? Let me talk to Clarice." Harris read the Report. Dollar had signed in for seven a.m. although it was barely after two a.m. Probably in case his wife called to check up later. Only a few cars in the parking lot. Some of them had been there for days. "Hey! Harris! You want to meet some of these lovely ladies I got? They can be here in twenty minutes." A smile, broadening. Harris blinked, then grinned, too. Shook his head. Dollar listened. "All right," he said, speaking to the woman again. They argued for a few minutes. Then he slammed down the receiver and glared at Harris. "Where's Clyde?" "He's on second shift now," Harris said. "Nobody told me." He looked Harris over languorously. "You old enough |
