Three Way Page #3

- 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

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