anyone. I just want to be on my way to Aruba.”
He nodded as if he didn’t believe her. Now he was definitely smirking. “Maybe not,” he said doubtfully. “Casino’s damn near shut down now, you know. Are you sure that’s all you want for getting through the hurricane?”
“It’s a hurricane now?”
The old man nodded. “Just hit Cat One a couple of hours ago. I thought you pilots paid attention to the weather. You ought to buy some water. That’s the first thing to muck up every time one of these things blows through.”
“I have no place to put it.”
“I’ll stack it for you,” he said agreeably enough. “Craig can load it in that Jeep of his for you when he gets back. You need three gallons per person per day. So that’s you and Buck, figure four days…twelve gallons.”
“Umm,” Hannah said, but the old man was already stacking cases of bottled water by the door.
“Next is non-perishable food,” he said. “Canned food is better, but we want to avoid the salty stuff. That would increase your water consumption. So let me see…two people for four days….”
A cardboard pallet of assorted canned meats and vegetables grew beside the cases of water.
“You keep saying ‘two people,’ Horace. Why do you assume I am buying for Buck, too?”
“Least you can do for costing him the game,” he said, without looking up, still stacking cans. “Plus, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”
“But I don’t want to get to his heart!” she objected.
“Yeah, whatever,” he replied. “Now, what kind of flashlights do the two of you have?”
“I,” Hannah said, emphasizing the word, “have an emergency flashlight in the aircraft, and my own in my travel kit. I’ve no idea what Buck has, though I’m sure he is more than adequately prepared.”
“Need two good six-volt area lanterns, and two hand-helds,” he said, fetching them. “And spare batteries for each. And candles, just in case.”
“Mr. Hanratty….” she began.
“Horace,” he said, still working feverishly. “You’ll also want things to do, in case you get bored. A couple of decks of cards, some dice. I’m sure Buck has poker chips but just in case I’ll toss in a set.”
“I like to read,” Hannah said, feeling as if she was being sold the entire store.
“I’ve got just the thing for you,” he said. “I’ve got the complete series of David Sklansky books on poker, as well as Mason Malmuth’s Essays on Gambling. And I guess I should throw in Doyle Brunson’s Super System 2 as well.”
“I like to read novels,” she said.
“I have The Cincinnati Kid,” he said.
“Saw the movie,” she said, wondering if Horace had any leisure activities in his store that did not involve poker or gambling.
“And I have another one here, Wildcard.”
“Let me guess,” she said. “Another poker novel?”
“Nope,” he said, smiling proudly. “It’s an international conspiracy thriller, but people see the title and I can’t keep it in stock.”
“I’ll take it,” Hannah said. “Anything’s better than nothing.”
“Hey,” he said, looking wounded. “A lot of folks said this was a damn good book.”
“I’m sure it will be,” she replied.
“Okay, so that totals four hundred fifty three dollars,” he said.
“What?” Hannah shouted, blanching.
“I’ll round it down to four-fifty, since you’re with Buck.”
“I am not with Buck!”
“You will be when this hurricane hits,” Horace said. “Cash or charge? I take all of the major cards.”
“Mr. Hanratty—Horace—I don’t want this stuff and I’m not going to pay for it!”
His watery blue eyes lit up. “Great. But it’s already on the pallet. So you pay me or we play for it.”
“What?” She was floored.
“Yeah. I’m always up for a good game. Best two hands out of three.”
“You’re joking.”
He scowled at her. “I don’t joke about poker. Nobody on this island jokes about it. If you’re smart, you’ll take a tip and remember that.”
“But…I don’t want this stuff!”
“It’s a package. All or nothing. Stud. Best two out of three.”
Hannah felt the competitive urge overtaking her. “Who will deal? I want an impartial dealer.”
“Hah! I knew you were the right type of gal!” He cackled gleefully and pulled a brand new set of cards from behind the counter and began to peel the wrapper off. “Just step outside and grab the first person you see.”
“While you’re opening the deck? What kind of fool do you think I am? Dealer opens the deck.”
He laughed again, apparently delighted. “Fair enough, Sticks.”
“Sticks? Who told you that?”
“No secrets around here. Okay, fresh unopened deck. Now go get your dealer.”
It didn’t help her confidence any that he was rubbing his hands together.
It was easy to find a dealer. The first woman she ran into on the street was more than ready. She introduced herself as Gerda Miller, and confided she was a part-time dealer at Bill Anstin’s casino. A woman of about forty with an impressive bust, she was already rolling up her sleeves as they walked into the grocery.
Horace Hanratty had set up a card table and two chairs near a front window where the light was best. An unopened pack of cards waited, as did some chips.
“Wait a minute,” Hannah said. “I agreed to the best two out of three.”
The old shopkeeper grinned at her. “What fun is it if you can’t bet and bluff?”
Hannah hesitated, then decided he was right. “But only three hands. I don’t have all day.”
“Three hands. I hope you know how to bluff, Sticks.”
“Oh!” said Gerda Miller, “this is the Sticks who caused Buck’s full house to blow away last night?”
Hanratty looked at
