Cupie shook his head. "I don't think so. I think it's something else."

"What else?"

"I don't know. I just think there's another reason for all this, and I wish I knew what it was."

"Cupie, my friend, you're getting paranoid. Relax. We'll be in Tijuana by lunchtime tomorrow, and we'll be rid of Mrs. Eagle."

"I hope you're right," Cupie said doubtfully.

"I am," Vittorio replied.

Cupie watched him climb the stairs to the upper deck. "Something's wrong," he said aloud to himself.

Thirty-three

JOE BIG BEAR GOT OUT HIS DOUBLE-BARRELED SHOTGUN from the storage compartment under the living room sofa of his trailer and wiped it with an oily rag. He took it out to his pickup, rummaged in the aluminum tool chest bolted to the truck bed and came up with a good-size vise. He clamped the vise to the tailgate, got a battery-operated radial saw out of the toolbox, changed the blade and began working on the shotgun's barrels. Thirty minutes and two blades later, he had a sawed-off shotgun. He used the saw to take off most of the wooden stock, too, leaving only enough for a hand to grip. Finally, he filed the rims of the barrels to remove any burrs. The whole thing was only about two feet long. He loaded the weapon with double-ought buckshot and put it under the seat of the pickup. He was armed.

BARBARA CHECKED HER WATCH: they had been underway for forty minutes, which meant they were pretty much in the middle of the Gulf of California. Now to see if her luck was holding.

She got out of the car and looked around; she was alone in the garage. She found the stairs and walked up two decks to the top of the little ship. She looked both ways from the door and saw no one, so she stepped out onto the deck. The wind from the ship's passage blew her hair around her face, and she brushed it aside as she walked aft. Vittorio was standing, his back to her, his hands on the rail, looking aft at the boiling wake. No one else was in sight. Perfect.

She walked toward him, careful to keep her steps light. Then, when she had only six feet to go, he glanced over his shoulder and turned around, smiling. He leaned against the rail and opened his arms. "Come here," he said.

She couldn't fight him face to face, she knew that; she'd have to think of something else. She moved into his arms, and the bulge at his crotch gave her the answer. She kissed him, grinding her body into his, and the bulge grew. The railing cut across his ass.

"I know what you want," she said, reaching down and unzipping his fly.

"Well, we are all alone up here, after all," he replied.

She knelt, unbuckled his belt, pushed down his pants and took him into her mouth, getting a noisy response from him. He ran his fingers through her hair, took hold and pulled her to him.

Shit, she thought. She pulled back and took him out of her mouth. "If you want me to keep doing this, don't mess up my hair," she said.

He took his hands away and gripped the railing on either side of him. "Any way you want it, baby," he said.

She continued her work, massaging his balls with one hand, and suddenly, convulsively, he began to come. She reached down, hooked her fingers under the bottoms of his jeans and heaved quickly upward.

"Hey!" he yelled, grabbing at the railing, but it was too late. He flew backward over the side and disappeared into the frothy wake.

She watched for a minute, but he didn't come up again. All that was left was his hat, floating upside down on the water. If they ever found him, an autopsy would show no violence, just drowning. She wiped her mouth with a tissue, threw it overboard and walked back toward the stairs. In a moment, she was back in the rear seat of the car, dozing off, satisfied. She didn't wake up until she heard the car door open.

"Barbara?" Cupie said.

She raised her head and brushed the hair out of her eyes. "Huh?" She didn't have to act to look sleepy.

"Have you seen Vittorio? We're coming into La Paz, and I can't find him."

"No," she replied, "I've been asleep."

"I'll go look again." He closed the car door and left.

Now, she thought, there's only Cupie to deal with.

Thirty-four

CUPIE RAN UP THE STAIRS TO THE TOP DECK AND CHECKED one more time. He could feel the ferry slowing as it came into the dock. He looked around and saw another door, and he ran through that and climbed another short flight of stairs to the bridge.

The door stood open, and he could see a uniformed officer at the helm, working the throttles to ease the ferry into its berth. When the man rang the telegraph for all stop, Cupie stepped onto the bridge.

"Capitan?" he asked.

The man turned. "Si. How can I help you, senor? Passengers are not allowed on the bridge."

"There is a passenger missing," Cupie said. "Please do not allow anyone off the ferry until we have found him."

The captain looked alarmed. "Who is this person?"

"He is a business associate of mine, and his name is Vittorio, no last name."

"What does he look like?"

"He's about six feet tall, a hundred and seventy pounds, and he's dressed in black, with a black, flat-brimmed hat."

"I have seen this person on the upper deck after we left Mazatlan," the captain said. "What happened?"

"I don't know. After we sailed, I went to the snack bar and had some lunch, then read a newspaper. When we were approaching La Paz, I went to the upper deck to find him, but he wasn't there. I went down to my car, and he wasn't there, either. I've looked everywhere, and I can't find him."

The captain picked up a microphone and made an announcement of a delay in disembarkation, then he led Cupie below and to the bow of the ship. He ordered one man to take two others and search the ship from stem to stern and another to watch the gangplank where foot traffic disembarked for anyone fitting Vittorio's description, then he and Cupie looked in each car and its trunk as it left the ferry, finding nothing.

"Senor," the captain said. "You are absolutely certain he was aboard?"

"I am absolutely certain; I came aboard in his company. You must call the coast guard and ask for a search of our route across the gulf. He can only have gone overboard."

The captain nodded, produced a cell phone and made a call, speaking in rapid Spanish. He closed the phone. "It will be done immediately, senor," he said. "A boat will leave from Mazatlan and another from La Paz, and they will meet in the middle of the gulf, then make the return trip. The tide is slack, so if your friend fell overboard, he will not have drifted far. Can he swim?"

"I don't know," Cupie said. He remembered seeing Vittorio coming out of the sea with Barbara, but he had not seen him actually swimming.

"Senor, you must remove your car from the ferry, as we have to reload and return to Mazatlan. We will keep an eye out for your friend as we cross, so there will be three vessels looking for him. I suggest you inquire at the coast guard office at the head of the pier about the search."

Cupie suddenly had an awful thought. "My friend had the key to the car," he said.

"Then we must push it ashore," the captain replied.

Cupie went back to the car and rousted Barbara, told her what had happened. "You and Vittorio went swimming together, didn't you?

"Yes, back at the casita."

"Could he swim?"

"I don't know; we didn't go in very deep. He didn't seem to be afraid of the water."

"We're going to be delayed, now," Cupie said. "I've got to contact the car rental company and get either a new key or a new car, and we have to wait and find out about the results of the search."