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INT. JAKE'S REALTY OFFICE - DAY

BOBBY squats, looking at a real estate model of a desert

development. JAKE smiles.

JAKE:

What can I do for you, lad?

BOBBY:

I was hoping we could talk.

JAKE:

Talk? About what?

BOBBY:

About things. About your wife.

JAKE:

Sweet Grace? What about her?

BOBBY:

About what you said this morning.

Jake shakes his head as if he doesn't understand.

BOBBY:

You said you had an insurance policy out on

your wife. Fifty-thousand dollars.

JAKE:

I do.

BOBBY:

You said you'd cut that up with the man who

did her in.

JAKE:

I did?

BOBBY:

Don't play simple with me, Jake. You're a

betting man. You want me to spell it out

for you? I'll kill Grace if you cut me in

on the money.

JAKE:

Boy I think this heat's getting to you the way

you're rambling on.

BOBBY:

I'm not rambling.

JAKE:

You're talking like a madman.

BOBBY:

Well then, I guess that qualifies me for

citizenship in this town. You're the one

brought it up. This morning. In your car.

JAKE:

Oh, that was just loose talk. Husband

gettin' pissed off. I don't want anybody

dead.

BOBBY:

Bullshit. You wanted me to kill her.

JAKE:

A man doesn't always mean the things he

says.

BOBBY:

You meant it.

JAKE:

What makes you say that?

BOBBY:

Because you're a slimy bastard who would

have his wife killed just to get his hands

on some money.

JAKE:

And what does that make you?

BOBBY:

The slimy bastard who's going to do it for

you... (pause) You're a jealous man Jake.

If you can't have Grace to yourself...well,

you're not the sharing kind.

For a moment Jake stares quietly at Bobby.

JAKE:

Well, I guess I have what you call a

love-hate relationship with Grace.

BOBBY:

You love her, but you hate her?

JAKE:

No, I hate loving her. I hate the kind of

person she is. I hate having to tolerate

the little "games" she plays. Like f***ing

half of the town behind my back and

laughing at me. The b*tch. She loved to

play. She wants me to hit her and when I

hit her she likes it. She tortures me. But

she's family. She's my little girl. My

baby. I couldn't stand to watch her eyes

roll back in her head as she sucks her last

breath, or to see her pretty pink brains

spill from her skull. No. Not me. But you?

You got the killing in you, boy...How much

you want?

A pause.

BOBBY:

Make it twenty.

JAKE (stressed, paces)

Twenty-thousand? I don't have that kind of

money. I won't get the insurance until

months after she's dead. I don't imagine

you'll want to be stickin' around after

poor Grace's demise. Twenty-thousand;

that's more money than I could ever get my

hands on.

BOBBY:

How much could you get?

JAKE:

Maybe ... ten-thousand. And that's a

maybe.

BOBBY:

I need thirteen.

JAKE:

That's a bit much.

BOBBY:

We're not talking about buying a car Jake.

We're talking about killing your wife. It's

thirteen, or it's nothing.

For a moment the two men stand silent. All we hear is the

ticking of a grandfather CLOCK that stands in the corner.

JAKE:

You drive a hard bargain, but I had a

feeling you were my boy when I met you.

BOBBY:

I'm not your boy. I don't like you. I got

no choice but to do business with you.

Let's just call this a nasty little

marriage of convenience.

JAKE:

Don't say that. I had a marriage of

convenience with Grace, and look where

that's lead... Well, looks like we got

ourselves a contract.

BOBBY (sarcastic)

Do we shake hands?

JAKE:

If you can't trust the man you've hired to

kill your wife ...? The thing is it's got

to look like an accident; that's the thing.

If it doesn't, then it's no good. I won't

get a dime, and it's my neck that'll be on

the chopping block while you're living it

up somewhere.

BOBBY:

How do you want it?

JAKE:

How the hell should I know? I've never had

a wife killed before. Jesus Christ! You

want this job, you don't know how to do

this? I guess I should have hired a

professional.

BOBBY:

You want to do this yourself? I don't have

to do this, you know.

JAKE:

Be quiet, boy. I got to figure this thing.

I'm thinking. It can't be done at the

house. It should be...

Jake walks the office thinking.

BOBBY:

Come to think of it, how 'bout some money

upfront?

JAKE:

Oh yeah sure. Why don't I buy you a plane

ticket right out of here while I'm at it. I

know you...

(then)

This is what you do: Go to the house to

see her.

BOBBY:

(beat)

And tell her what?

EXT. MCKENNA HOUSE - LATER DAY

BOBBY stands on the porch talking to GRACE through the screen of

the front door. The look on his face is sincere. Hers is

skeptical. We see the action take place as we hear Jake's V.O.:

JAKE(V.O.)

...I don't know. Tell her you had to see

her. Tell her you don't care if she's

married or not, you had to be with her.

Sweet talk the woman. A young buck like

you must be good at that. Then ... maybe

shift the conversation. Get her thinking

about that jeep of hers. She loves that

thing. Maybe the only thing she does love.

She'll want to take you for a ride.

BOBBY:

I know you're not surprised I'm back here,

cause you can read my mind and all.

She's not surprised.

GRACE (seeing his new cut)

That's some cut. I told you to be more

careful.

BOBBY:

Yeah, well I said I was an idiot. Whatta

you say we get out of here, take a drive

somewhere, talk...

GRACE:

How do you know he's still not here?

BOBBY:

Guys like me take those chances. Let's go.

EXT. DESERT - DAY

GRACE'S JEEP cuts hard across the desert. Grace has a wild,

excited look on her face. BOBBY sits next to her looking

somewhat nervous.

JAKE(V.O.)

She'll take you out somewhere in the

desert. She loves it out there; ridin'

through the red rock and the mesas. So do

I. I guess we got that in common. She'll

ride you out someplace quiet. Someplace

deserted.

FADE TO:

EXT. DESERT - LATER DAY

GRACE has stopped the JEEP on a plateau. BOBBY sits beneath its

shade while Grace walks in the sun seemingly unaffected by the

heat. VULTURES swoop above.

JAKE(V.O.)

There won't be anyone for miles around.

Just the two of you and some prairie dogs.

That's all. You can sweet talk her a

little if you like. Makes no difference to

me. Just put her at ease, make her feel

relaxed -- then do it.

JAKE'S V.O. ends. The scene is now synch with real time.

BOBBY:

Are there snakes out here?

GRACE:

They hear you comin'. They won't bother

you. Just don't sneak up on 'em.

BOBBY:

Doesn't the isolation bother you?

GRACE:

Yeah, but I like the sun. I grew up on a

reservation. The sun, the desert; they

like a religion to us. Jake's the same

way. He loves the desert. I guess we're

alike that way. That's about the only way.

BOBBY:

You love him?

GRACE:

No.

BOBBY:

Did you ever?

GRACE:

Depends on what you call love. I grew up on

a reservation. A patch of desert in the

middle of nowhere. That's where they stick

Indians, Bobby. That's where they leave us

to die. My brother killed himself when he

was 19 cause he couldn't take it anymore.

There's no hope there... Jake was my ticket

out. Mom and me.

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