"Ed Eagle, you are an angel."

Eagle pointed at the mover's truck that was pulling in through the gate. "It's going to look even better with your furniture in it," he said.

THE SUN WAS SETTING as the mover's truck departed, and Eagle sat on a sofa in the handsome study while Susannah poured them a drink.

"God, I'm tired," she said, handing him a newly unpacked glass and flopping down beside him.

"All you need is a drink and some dinner and a good night's sleep," he said.

"I don't even know which box the sheets are in," she replied, taking a big swallow of the bourbon.

"Don't even look for them. Sleep at my house tonight and officially move in tomorrow. My housekeeper and her sister, who is going to be your new housekeeper, will be here to help you get things sorted out."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "What would I do without you?"

He put his arm around her and pulled her closer. "I hope you don't find an answer to that question anytime soon."

CUPIE HIT THE OUTSKIRTS of Tijuana just as it was getting dark. He pulled over and consulted the map from the rental car agency, looking for a place to leave the car. "Good," he said, "there's a dropoff point very near the border crossing. We'll be there in ten, fifteen minutes."

"Let's get some dinner first," she said.

Cupie turned toward the backseat and looked at her. "Barbara," he said evenly, "are you out of your fucking mind?"

"I want food," she said.

"You want to die," he replied.

"Oh, relax, Cupie."

"Barbara, I know very well that it was you, not your sister, who cut that guy's dick off, but I can only imagine what his uncle, the policeman, is going to do to you when he finds you."

"You're being melodramatic."

"I'm being wise," he said. "This is what is going to happen: We're going to drive to the drop-off, leave the car, take our bags out of the trunk and then I'm going to escort you into the United States and we'll say good-bye. But I'll buy you dinner on the other side of the border, if you're interested."

"Oh, all right."

Cupie put the car in gear and, after checking the map again, headed for the border.

VITTORIO WATCHED CUPIE drive away. He would be going straight for the border crossing and the rental car drop-off there, but Vittorio knew the town better. Driving quickly, he cut through back streets and emerged a hundred yards from the border. He drove into the rental car drop-off, got his bag out of the trunk, marked down the mileage and tossed the contract on the desk of a dozing clerk. Then he walked across the street and stood in a doorway. Two minutes later, Cupie drove up, removed luggage from the car and went inside. Barbara did not appear.

CUPIE APPROACHED THE DESK and laid the car contract on its surface. "How would you like to buy a couple of very nice guns, amigo?" he asked the clerk.

"Guns, senor?" the man asked.

"Maybe you don't need them, but they'll sell quickly on the street." He laid his 9mm and Barbara's.25 on the desk, first popping the magazines and checking the breach to be sure they were unloaded.

The man quickly examined both guns and put them back on the desk. "How much?"

"Six hundred American for the two of them."

"I'll give you three-fifty."

"Five-fifty"

The clerk looked doubtful.

"Five hundred, and that's my best price."

"Are they clean, senor?"

"Of course, amigo. I brought them from the United States myself," Cupie lied.

"Momentito," the man said. He went into a back room and came back with two hundreds and six fifties. The money changed hands, and the guns disappeared into the clerk's desk drawer. "Vaya con Dios," the clerk said.

"You betcha," Cupie replied. He went back to the car and opened the rear door. "Okay, sweetheart," he said, "here's how we're going to do this." He pulled the towing handle out from her large case. "You're going to walk ahead of me down the street to your right, then turn for the border crossing to your left. It's very brightly lit, so you can't miss it. I'm going to be about fifty feet behind you."

"Why can't we go together?"

"Because if our policeman friend is watching and he sees you with me, he'll know who you are. Alone, he may not spot you; I doubt if he has a picture."

"I suppose that makes sense," she said, taking a scarf from her purse and tying it around her head.

"Good idea," he said. "You look different already."

She got out of the car, took the handle of her rolling suitcase and began walking.

Cupie gave her a head start, then followed. He had no idea what he would do if the police turned up, except deny that Barbara was who they were looking for.

VITTORIO WATCHED from the doorway across the street as the two left the drop-off and started toward the border. He fell in ten yards behind Cupie. There was a line of pedestrians at the crossing, perhaps fifty people, some carrying luggage, some drunk, all brightly illuminated by floodlights and waiting patiently to speak to the border patrol officers. He watched as Barbara joined the end of the line and Cupie held back, to allow a few others to separate him from her. Vittorio waited, then he joined the line, too.

As he did, a police car rolled slowly around a corner and toward the border crossing. Another patrol car was already parked next to the line of pedestrians, with two officers inside, watching them shuffle past.

Vittorio was glad he had the.45 Colt on his belt, and then he wasn't glad. He wasn't going to get into a shoot-out among all these people, and neither was he going to attempt to carry the pistol across the border; he had to get rid of it.

The second police car came to a stop next to the first, and Vittorio could see his friend, the police captain, sitting in the rear seat, less than twenty feet from where Barbara, then Cupie, would pass him.

Vittorio had to do something now.

VITTORIO PICKED UP HIS BAG AND WALKED STRAIGHT toward the police car, moving to put himself between the police captain and Barbara. He wanted her for himself.

The captain leaned toward his open car window. "Senor Vittorio," the policeman said, smiling broadly and displaying his gold teeth. "You are leaving us?"

"Yes, capitan," Vittorio replied, putting down his bag and placing his left hand on top of the car, bracing himself as he bent down to talk.

"I see you have reunited with your friend Senor Dalton," the policeman said, nodding toward the line.

"Where?" Vittorio asked turning to look at the line, but still keeping himself between the captain and Barbara. "Oh, yes, there he is. Perhaps I'll buy him a drink on the other side." The line was moving more quickly now. "Capitan, I wonder if you might accept a small gift?"

The captain smiled again. "I would not be so rude as to refuse your generosity, Senor Vittorio."

Vittorio pulled back his jacket to reveal the.45 in its holster. He removed it, popped the magazine, handed it to the captain, then locked the slide back and inspected the pistol to be sure it was unloaded, then handed it to the captain.

The broad smile continued. "It is a very beautiful weapon, Senor Vittorio," he said, slapping the magazine home, releasing the slide and thumbing back the safety. "I am most grateful."

Vittorio unbuckled his belt and handed over the holster, as well.

"And surely there must be something I can do for you, Senor Vittorio," the captain said, being well informed in the business of tit for tat.

Vittorio decided to surprise him. "Nothing, capitan. Perhaps some other day when I am back in Mexico you will remember me."