Three Way Page #2

- I can feel them.

So taking her

to the Possession is safe?

Yeah. It's perfect.

Harbor's empty that time of night...

...the only people who go on

the boat are me and Florence.

Just gotta keep emotions out of it.

- Worry about your own emotion.

- That's not a problem for me.

- I hate her.

- Jesus, Ralph, that's emotion.

Hate's the antithesis of love,

not the absence of it.

Hey, come on, dude,

don't get all deep on me.

I can tell you still

have feelings for her.

Isobel, I love you.

Would you just, you know...?

I just get worried that

you're gonna tip our hand or...

...give something away

so they might suspect.

Never happen. The woman's a dope.

Florence is many things,

but a dope isn't one of them.

Who's married to her?

Trust me, she's a dope.

We'll have a million dollars

to start a new life with!

All right.

Okay, so we are sure...

...that Ida will pay the ransom

without calling the police?

I can keep her out of it

till the exchange.

- After that, it won't matter, because...

- Florence will be dead.

- You ready?

- Let's do it.

One million f***ing dollars.

Lewis.

You Lewis Brookbank?

- Who are you?

- Herbert Clairmont.

I didn't mean to spook you.

I'm interested in buying

the gas station.

I mean the entire property,

house and everything.

I thought I'd poke around.

It's my nature.

I hope you don't mind.

I mind. It's my nature.

I spoke to a Mrs. Caswell

over at Crookston Realty.

Told her I was interested.

She said talk to the owner, and...

I was a little impatient.

I'm not the owner.

- Really?

- Really.

- Maybe you could talk to him for me.

- Like I said, the place is not for sale.

Everything's for sale.

- It just takes the right offer.

- Yeah, well, not this place.

Well, if you talk to him,

he changes his mind...

You know.

Nice. New client?

I found them. Both of them.

- Who are they?

- Isobel DeLarno and Ralph Hagen.

- Ralph Hagen?

- Yeah.

What, you know him?

Well, yeah. I mean,

everyone does around here.

He runs DeCroix Shoes.

I don't go there.

Their stuff is way overpriced.

Forget the shoes.

What do you know about him?

He's married to Florence DeCroix.

- Who the f***'s that?

- Of the Santa Barbara DeCroixs?

They're, like, the Kennedys

of Santa Barbara County. So rich.

He married into the family?

But the story is her mother

didn't really like him very much.

- Why?

- She thought he was white trash...

...which he is.

But trash that fine-looking must've

smelled awfully good to Florence.

But not as fine as you, honey.

- How do you know all this?

- I sell houses to rich people...

...and they talk a lot.

Rich people always

have so much drama.

It makes me feel better

about poor little Rita.

Wait a minute. Are you saying that

Ralph is gonna kidnap his own wife?

It's Friday night.

- And what are you gonna do about it?

- F*** it up. Plus save her life.

They're gonna kill Florence.

- You gotta go to the police, Lew.

- No.

Look, me and the police don't mix.

Besides, this is one particular straw

I'm not gonna let go of.

Or should I say one million?

A million dollars?

- That's crazy.

- Yeah.

And speaking of crazy,

your client was here today.

- Who?

- You know, the guy with the Benz?

Mr. Clairmont?

- He's very Beverly Hills.

- Whatever.

I don't want you talking to him again.

He's bad news.

He sure as hell wasn't here to buy

this place either. Hand me the chisel.

You're so paranoid. You think every

stranger you meet is out to get you.

You don't have my past.

Including a wife you're still

in love with and won't talk about?

- Closed subject.

- You consider that closed?

I call it closed.

You think breaking

a picture makes it okay?

She's still between us!

You know what? You need

to get your f***ing heart...

...out of the past if you expect us

to have a f***ing future!

And your mom said

I was white trash.

No, she said you were brain-dead

and beneath me.

Remind me again,

why did we get married?

Because I'm hung

like a f***ing horse, baby.

- In your f***ing dreams, pal.

- Yeah. Okay.

You know, it wouldn't kill you

to clean this pool.

Where were you?

What did you do all day?

Did you work really hard?

Play with that little game...

...and not talk to me?

In fact, what are you, 8 years old?

Those are for 8-year-olds.

What are you, a moron?

I'm asking you a question.

I called the store. You were gone.

Where were you?

I was out trying to get a loan for your

mother's f***ing shithole store.

The only women that go there

are older than your mother.

Let's face it, that's pretty old.

I can't believe you ran

my mother's store into the ground.

It's unbelievable. So that's why

you want my mother to come over?

So you can pry

more money from her.

Yeah.

You are a real charmer.

You're a real f***ing charmer.

- Where are you going?

- I'm going to my mother's...

...so I can get some money

for you, as usual.

- Tell her you need Botox.

- Oh, my God.

- That is the funniest thing I've heard.

- You know it is.

I can't believe

you're not a comedian.

It's not a bad idea.

I'll ask her for money...

...so I can get some liposuction.

Get rid of 170 pounds

of unwanted fat.

I'm 160. And I'm in better shape

than you, b*tch.

I hope that f***ing parrot dies.

Hey. Where you going?

Can I come along?

That neighborhood looked like it was

a little out of your price range.

- Unless you were casing it.

- Go f*** yourself.

That ain't nice.

Easy. Come on. How you doing?

You all right?

So gas stations aren't your

main line of business?

What gave that away? Turn off

up here. That palm tree. Turn left.

Right there.

So where's that sexy wife

of yours, Janice?

F*** you.

What do you know about

a guy named Deke Clarkson?

F*** you.

How about a boat

called The Black Wake?

- F*** you.

- All right.

Who the f*** are you?

Here's how this is gonna work.

I ask the questions...

...and you f***ing answer them.

You understand me?

About 4 months ago, that boat turned

up drifting down near Ensenada.

- And there was nobody onboard.

- So?

Deke and your wife Janice

should have been onboard.

She's missing, by the way.

Which isn't news.

- We haven't talked since she left me.

- Now, that's a lie.

See this?

It's registered to you.

You know where it was found?

Up your ass?

Hanging on the bottom of that boat.

You know what I think?

I think you caught Deke f***ing

your wife, you went a little nuts.

And oops, you killed him.

If you believe that story,

why not take it to the police?

Because I don't work for the police.

They can have you

after I get what I need.

- Which is?

- A body. Deke Clarkson's.

Man, I didn't kill him.

She left me, I left San Diego.

You give me Deke's body,

I'll give you your gun back.

The police will never know about it.

Come on. Take me back to my car.

And get your story straight.

We'll talk about this again

tomorrow night.

Hey, baby.

What happened to your head?

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