Félix looked closely at the indents in the sides of the container and the floor. "Snap, man, you may be right."

"Someone took out the wall last night."

"But why? How much more scrutiny do you get than bringing in a load of dope? Especially a load that the cops know about. It'd be crazy to hide anything in it."

Duarte shook his head, considering the possibilities. He heard the customs guys walking from their van. "Let's keep this quiet for now."

"Why?"

"Do you know who came in here?"

Félix thought about it, looked quickly at the approaching customs agents and shook his head.

"We got the lock." He stepped to the front of the load and pulled a few old sheets of the manifest off the hanging clipboard. He crumpled them and put them into the bag with the lock to keep it from moving around. "I bet Alice can tell us whose prints are on this thing."

"Damn, that girl is going to expect a lot from you now."

"She deserves a lot."

They stepped out of the way as the customs agents started to unload the marijuana bales.

William "Ike" Floyd sat in a Starbucks, chatting with a woman about his age, maybe a little older. He had a coffee or whatever the fucking place called a regular coffee, and the woman, whose name was Faith, had one of the fancier kinds with whipped cream that was the size of a 7-Eleven Big Gulp.

"You from New Orleans originally?" He smiled and looked right at her. He thought that most men probably found her attractive with her blond hair and pretty smile, but she didn't do anything for him. His main interest was in her computer.

Faith said, "I'm from Houma, but I'm here today because of a job interview. That's how come I got my computer with me. I'm checking my e-mail to see if anyone tries to contact me about other job interviews while I'm in New Orleans."

He smiled and took a sip of his coffee. "What do you do?"

"Mostly secretary work, but I can work computers good, too. The jobs haven't come back so much since Katrina."

Ike nodded, knowing that women liked to talk about themselves.

"Where are you from?" asked Faith.

"Omaha. I'm just here on business."

"What business you in?"

He hesitated. "I'm in shipping. We got a load that came through the port." He ran a hand across the computer. "In fact, is there any way I could check my e-mail really quick on your laptop?"

She paused, her green eyes running over his face and chest. "Yeah, I guess. This wireless Internet is a little slow."

"It's just a Yahoo account."

She nodded and slid the small Sony Viao across the little round table to him. In his button-down shirt and casual jeans, he knew he looked respectable, but add in the story about a decent job and he felt that this woman really might be attracted to him. He could understand for a moment what men saw in women. Not just the emasculating, nagging, overbearing women like his mom, who'd virtually left him parentless at sixteen when she ran off with a nigger musician from Chicago. He felt his blood pressure rise.

"You okay?" asked Faith, placing a hand on his arm.

Ike looked at her. "Yeah, why?"

"You just blushed really red in the face."

He looked down, embarrassed she'd seen what the memory of his mom could do to him.

"It's all right. In fact, it's kinda cute. I don't see men blush much anymore."

He liked this woman's voice. Then he remembered the computer and what he needed to do. He started navigating to his Yahoo account and, just like before, brought up saved drafts. He saw a new one among them and opened it.

It was short and direct. "Meet me at five today at the far end of Alamonaster Boulevard Bridge next to I-10. I have made arrangements for someone to accept the package in Houston. It will be a couple of days. O."

He closed the e-mail as Faith said, "When are you going to Houston?"

He snapped his face to hers. "Why'd you read that over my shoulder? You think I can't handle my own e-mail?"

"No, that's not it. I didn't mean to pry. I was just making conversation."

"Dammit. I just used your computer. Didn't give you permission to pry." He stood up.

"Wait. Why are you so angry? I didn't mean nothin' by it."

He decided this was as good a time as any to head out the door. He'd been lucky and had crammed the big U-Haul truck into two empty slots in the rear of the trendy coffeehouse. He'd have to make sure he knew how to find the Alamonaster Bridge and figure out where to meet Ortíz. He was glad he'd finally see this guy face-to-face. His size and conditioning would impress the Panamanian. And he needed some more cash. This beaner sure sounded like he had plenty of cash.

He was out the door and turning the corner when he heard Faith call out to him.

"Wait, don't be mad."

He turned and she surprised him by running straight to him and placing her small hands on his arms. She leaned in close, brushing her breasts against him.

He softened a little. "Don't sweat it. I'm just not used to worrying about other people." She followed him as he turned and slowly walked toward the truck in the empty rear lot.

"What're you hauling? Is that your truck?" She pointed at the U-Haul.

Suddenly he realized she knew too much about him. What if she figured out who he was and what he was doing after she watched the news in a few days? He might have to be on the run, but there was a chance he could pull this off without being identified. The obvious problem was that she'd be a loose end.

He looked at her delicate face as she turned her haunting green eyes up to him.

17

DUARTE WAS ON HIS CELL PHONE, SMILING AT THE SOUND OF Alice's voice again.

He said, "Hey, it's me."

"Wow, two calls in one day. You might really miss me. I think that's probably a first for Alex Duarte."

"Could be." He was surprised she knew him so well after only a few months of sporadic dating.

Then she really amazed him. "Unless you're calling for another favor?"

He didn't speak.

She raised her voice slightly. "Oh my God, that's it. You need another favor. What is it this time? Carbon-date a rock? Get a DNA sample from a cigarette butt?"

"You can do that?"

"What?"

"Get DNA from a cigarette?"

"Yeah, sure." There was silence on the line, then Alice said, "I'm waiting. What's the favor?"

"Lift some prints from a padlock."

"When will I get it?"

"Tomorrow. I just sent it overnight express."

"You were pretty sure of yourself."

He kept an easy tone. "Alice, this could be serious. I just want to keep it simple for now."

"How'd you pack it? Will it be stable and not disturb any potential prints?"

"I packed in a small box with some paper wadded up and holding it in place."

"That sounds pretty good."

"Will doing these things get you in any trouble?"

"Less trouble than dating you."

"Alice, you're the best."

"You better show it when you get back."

"Thanks." He waited to hear her, but there was silence. Almost like she expected him to say something else. Then he did. "I gotta go. I'll talk to you soon."

She didn't even say goodbye, so he hung up.

Ike looked at Faith and knew with certainty that he couldn't just let her walk away. The problem was he didn't know what to do with her. He didn't know who would miss the young lady. He didn't know how hard it might be to silence her or if she'd fight and escape. That would bring way too much heat on him.

He felt in his pocket for his buck knife. The only thing he had ever used it for was opening boxes and once for cutting chicken at a new place off Florence Avenue in Omaha. He looked into her eyes, and even with his limited experience, realized she wanted him to kiss her.