Oh, well, he thought, I'll just have to get by with the twelve-five from Harold. At that moment, the clerk left his counter, went to the front door and waved Joe inside. His heart leapt, and he hurried into the office.

"Your wire is in," the man said. "How do you want the money?"

"In cash."

"You sure you don't want a cashier's check? It's safer."

"Nah, I've gotta pay for a car in cash."

"Give me a minute," the man said. "I'll have to see if we've got that much." He disappeared into a back room.

Joe took a chair, picked up a magazine and tried to be cool.

Five minutes later, the clerk returned with a large brown envelope. "I don't have it all in hundreds," he said, "so I had to give you a lot of fifties and twenties."

"No problem," Joe said.

The man handed him the envelope. "Count it, please."

Joe riffled through each stack of bills, counting quickly. "It's all here," he said.

"Sign right here, Mr. Grande," the clerk said, offering him a pen. "Pepe Oso Grande," the clerk mused. "Doesn't that mean Joseph Big Bear in English?"

"Something like that," Joe replied. He signed the document, took his money and walked out. Back in the car, he didn't trust himself to drive for a moment. His heart was pounding, he was breathing rapidly, and he was sweating.

"Thirty-seven thousand, five hundred dollars," he said aloud, mopping his brow. He'd never had more than two thousand dollars at once in his life. He took some deep breaths and started the car. He had no idea where to go, so he just wandered slowly in the direction of home. What would he do with all this money? He hadn't allowed himself to think about that until now.

"Buy a safe," he said aloud. He turned into Sam's Club, stuffed the cash under his seat and locked the pickup. He was back in twenty minutes with a heavy, cardboard box on a dolly. With the help of a clerk, he muscled it into the pickup and unlocked the cab, checking to see that the money was still under the seat.

He drove back to his trailer, got his toolbox and bolted the safe to the floor under a kitchen cabinet. Then he set the combination into the electronic lock and practiced opening it a few times. Satisfied, he took the money out of its envelope and placed it on a shelf in the safe, along with the twelve-five from Harold, then he closed and locked the safe and got a beer from the fridge.

He sat, sipping it, thinking about what he could do with thirty-seven thousand, five hundred dollars. It was all his, and he didn't have to do a fucking thing for it. The woman didn't know who she'd wired the money to.

Then the beer went sour in his mouth. Harold knew who he was, and he had promised to find and kill him if Eagle wasn't dead before he got out of jail.

Joe swallowed hard. It was the first time it had occurred to him that he was really going to have to kill Ed Eagle. And he was probably going to have to kill Harold, too, when he got out. And his wife; she knew his name, too.

Thirty-one

BARBARA WOKE UP BEFORE DAWN. VlTTORIO WAS SLEEPING soundly beside her. She picked up her handbag, then walked to where Vittorio's bag stood open and felt inside, coming up with the Federal Express envelope. She took it into the bathroom, locked the door and turned on the light.

It was just an ordinary FedEx shipping envelope; he hadn't affixed the label, yet. She pulled the tab that opened it and removed the signed blank sheets of paper inside. Then she opened her large handbag and took out the FedEx envelope and blank paper she had gotten from the bank. She stuffed the blank sheets inside, sealed it, then put the old envelope and the signed sheets into her handbag. Then she switched off the light, unlocked the door and tiptoed to Vittorio's bag. She put the FedEx envelope containing the blank sheets into the bag, then crept back into bed. "What?" Vittorio said.

"Nothing," she said. "I just went to the bathroom."

He reached for her, and she melted into his arms, feeling for his crotch. Gotta keep him sweet, she thought, and she ducked under the covers, giving herself to the enterprise.

WHEN SHE WAS DONE, she nestled in his arms.

"That was wonderful," he said.

"You know what would be wonderful?"

"What?"

"If we could just stay down here."

"In Mexico?"

"Yes. I like it down here, and you can live dirt cheap."

"Your three hundred grand wouldn't last all that long."

"I've got more coming," she said. "A lot more."

"From where?"

"From Ed," she said.

"I don't think that's going to happen," he said.

"It'll happen, if you don't FedEx him those signed sheets."

"That wouldn't work," he said.

"Why not?"

"Cupie."

"What about him?"

"He wouldn't sit still for that."

"So, don't tell him. We can just send him on his way."

"But when Eagle doesn't get the signatures, he'll put Cupie on us. Cupie is very smart; he'd find us again."

She wondered if she could talk him into killing Cupie. Probably not. "I guess you're right," she said. She turned over, putting her back to him. He reached for her ass, but she removed his hand.

"Look, baby," he said, "I took the man's money; I have to finish the job."

"You took my money, too."

"And I'm going to finish that job. I'll get you back to the States."

She said nothing.

"And then there's the Mexican police: they're still looking for you."

He had a point. She couldn't stay in Mexico. But if he sent Ed those blank sheets, the hunt would be on again, at least until this guy Pepe did the job. If he did the job. There were too many loose ends to this; she was going to have to think of a way to tie some of them up. When Eagle was dead, then she'd have everything she needed.

What she had to do now was buy time, until Pepe did his work. If Eagle died without a signed settlement agreement, she'd get his estate and the life insurance. That was the best way.

CUPIE PUT HIS BAG in the trunk of the Toyota, then leaned against it, gazing out across the Pacific. Something was wrong, he figured, maybe a lot. First, he had to get straight with Vittorio, then they could discuss the rest.

Vittorio came out of the casita, carrying his and Barbara's luggage, and put it into the trunk.

"We've gotta talk," Cupie said.

"I'm listening," Vittorio replied.

"Your new, ah, relationship with the lady is screwing up this job."

"How?"

"She's gonna try to talk you out of going through with it, and I'll be left with an angry client."

"She's not going to talk me into anything," Vittorio replied. "I'm getting laid; I'm enjoying it. All I have to do to complete the job is to FedEx Eagle those signatures, then get the lady to the U.S. Eagle will be happy, and she'll be happy, then we can all say bye-bye."

"Has she asked you yet not to send Eagle the signatures?"

"Of course, but I'm going to anyway. I'll find a shipping office in Mazatlan and FedEx them from there. That will take care of our client, Ed Eagle, then all we'll have to do is take care of our client, Barbara Eagle."

"You're sure you're on board for this?"

"I'm on board, Cupie. Besides, I wouldn't want you dogging my ass."

"Then there's something else we have to talk about," Cupie said.

"Shoot."

Barbara came out of the casita and headed for the car.

"We'll talk later," Cupie said.

"Okay."

They got into the car, and Vittorio started the engine.

Cupie was looking at the map. "I got an idea," he said.

"What's that?" Vittorio asked.

Cupie pointed at the map. "You see this dotted line that runs from Mazatlan over to La Paz, in Baja, California?"

"Yes."