"Sounds right to me," Vittorio said. "You on board, Babs?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Vittorio put the car in gear and drove off, dawdling along at fifty miles an hour. "Let's let them gain a little on us," he said.

EAGLE WAS BACK at his desk at three o'clock, showered and relaxed.

Betty buzzed him. "That realtor, Sally Potter, is on the phone."

Eagle picked it up. "Hi, Sally."

"Hi, Ed. I just sold a house; you up for a closing?"

"Sure, send me the contract."

"I'll have the buyer bring it over; you in all afternoon?"

"I'll be here until five."

"You're not breaking a sweat over there, are you?"

"Not so's you'd notice."

"The buyer will be there in twenty minutes."

"I'll dust off the welcome mat." He hung up. Sally Potter and other realtors often recommended him as an attorney for house buyers. He did forty or fifty closings a year, and an assistant did all the work. It paid for the copying machine and the phone bill, he reckoned.

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Betty buzzed him. "Your buyer is here," she said.

"Send him in."

There was a chuckle from the other end of the line, and Betty hung up.

Eagle looked up to see a knockout blonde walk into his office. She was in her thirties, five-seven, a hundred and twenty-five pounds, wearing tight, starched jeans, a fringed buckskin jacket and a chambray shirt with the top couple of buttons invitingly undone. Her breasts were contained in about a 36C, and he reckoned it was a cup size too small. Eagle was sure he had seen her someplace before, but he couldn't place her. He was on his feet in a flash. "Good afternoon. I'm Ed Eagle."

"Hello," she said in a throaty voice. "I'm Susannah Wilde." She held out a hand.

Eagle shook it and waved her to the sofa, taking the chair opposite. The movies, he thought. He didn't go to the movies much, waiting for them to turn up on satellite TV, but he'd seen her in something. "So, you've bought a home in Santa Fe?"

"Yes, I have. The seller accepted my offer a couple of hours ago." She dug into a large handbag and came out with a paper. "Here's the contract."

Eagle scanned the document. A nice place on Tano Norte. A writer had built it and sold it to somebody else, who was now selling it. Three million bucks; Ms. Wilde was either very successful in the movies or handsomely divorced, or both. "Will you require a mortgage?" he asked.

"No, it will be a cash deal."

"I'll get a title search done and arrange for title insurance. I can recommend an insurance agent for your homeowner's policy."

"Thank you, but Sally has already put me in touch with somebody."

"What brings you to Santa Fe, Ms. Wilde?"

"Please call me Susannah. I'm an actress, and I live in L.A., but frankly I'm tired of it. I've sold my house there, and I've found a pied-a-terre for when I'm there on business, but I plan to make my real home here."

"I know the original owner of your house, and I've been there for dinner. It's a beautiful place. I especially remember the library."

"Yes, I'm thrilled to have it."

"When do you want to close?"

"The owner says he can close quickly, so the sooner the better." She gave him the name of the seller's attorney.

"A couple of weeks okay?"

"That's fine with me."

"Where are you staying?"

"At the Inn of the Anasazi."

"I'll call you as soon as we've agreed on a closing date. Will you be staying long?"

"I'm going back to L.A. tomorrow, to get moved into my new apartment, but I'll be back for the closing, and I'll move in the same day, so can you schedule it for first thing in the morning?"

"Of course." He took a deep breath. "Would you like to have dinner tonight?"

She smiled. "How kind of you. Is this all part of the service?"

He smiled back. "No, this is a special occasion," he said.

"I'd love to." She stood and shook his hand again. "What time?"

"I'll pick you up at seven-thirty, if that's all right."

"I look forward to it." She turned and walked out of his office.

He watched her go. "Oh, shit," he whispered to himself. "I may be in trouble again."

Twenty-four

THEY ENTERED THE OUTSKIRTS OF PUERTO VALLARTA AND saw the airport sign.

"Not yet," Cupie said. "Drive into town; I got an idea that might buy us a little breathing room."

"Where do you want to go?" Vittorio asked.

"The police station."

"I want to get out of here," Barbara said.

"Of course you do, sweetheart," Cupie replied, "And I think I can make your trip a little bit safer. Don't park out front, Vittorio; make it about a block away."

Vittorio found a parking spot, and Cupie walked down the street to the police station. As before, he was sent to the rear office of the captain, who was sitting at his desk reading a girlie magazine.

"Buenos dias, senor," the captain said, immediately recognizing a man who had promised him a five-thousand-dollar reward.

"And to you, captain," Cupie said, taking a seat.

"We are looking for your shooting lady very hard," the captain said. "We have covered all the airports and border crossings."

"That's what I came about," Cupie said. "I want to withdraw the charges against the lady."

The captain's face fell. "But, senor, this is not so easy, you know. Much paper has been, how you say, pressed?"

"Pushed."

"Many man-hours have been expended in the search."

Yeah, sure, Cupie thought. "I'm aware of that, captain, and my client is very grateful for your cooperation." Cupie reached into an inside pocket and came out with twenty one-hundred-dollar bills. "He has asked me to personally deliver to you this expression of his gratitude." He laid the money on the desk. The captain made a motion with his hand, and it disappeared. "Even though the woman was not captured."

"But she shot you, senor," the captain said, his voice trembling with outrage. "Surely, you cannot let such an insult pass."

"My client has made my honor whole," Cupie said, "and the lady and I have settled our differences."

"So, you know where she is?"

"She should be in New York by now, I think. Her husband sent a private aircraft for her, and I put her aboard it very early this morning."

"Senor," the captain said, "I hesitate to mention this, but I have had reports of two gringos in a Toyota SUV who caused a serious accident outside Acapulco yesterday. I wonder if you are aware of this?"

Cupie put on his most innocent face. "No, I have not heard of it," he said. "My partner is not a gringo but an Apache Indian. He and I are driving a Toyota, but it is a sedan, not an SUV. I do hope the occupants of this car were not injured."

The captain shrugged. "Only their pride," he said. "They are police officers, you see."

"Ah, any person would be very foolish who would cause an accident to police officers. Having been a policeman, myself, for thirty years, I can understand their displeasure. If you have a description of the two men, I would be happy to keep an eye out for them. Now that our work is done, my friend and I plan to spend a couple of days on the beach."

"I'm afraid I do not have a description, other than that they are gringos," the captain said. He stood up and offered his hand. "But this is not your problem, senor; we are perfectly capable of finding them without your assistance."

Cupie stood up and shook the hand. "I am very sure you will do so, captain. Thank you again for your assistance, and I hope that we may meet again on some more pleasant occasion."

"Vaya con Dios," the captain said.

Cupie strolled back to the car and got in. "I think," he said, "that I may have gotten the dogs called off. I gave the captain two grand and asked him to end the search for our lady friend."