Wyatt tried one last useless thing. Well build you a new identity, the person youd like to be, with interests youd like to have. Ill disappear two or three times a year for a week, a month, and come home again and you need never know the details.
She laughed; she gripped his hand. Wyatt, the little wife? No. She went sombre again. No. Always looking over my shoulder. I cant stay here.
He knew she meant more than that she should get out of the hotel. Where?
Europe. There are people who can get me that far.
Then she was pumping his arm for emphasis. Wyatt, let me have the money. Ill need all of it.
He looked away and shortly after that he said, Leave me five.
Five thousand dollars in the world.
A couple of days later, when she was gone, somewhere in the Coral Sea aboard an islands steamer, he took the five thousand dollars into Jupiters, a delay of his run south. Wyatt didnt believe in good or bad luck but he thought that surely things had to get better from this point.