"Me, too. Family?"
"Nah, I like single."
"Girl?".
"I go from woman to woman; best not to get tied down. When I get to where I need somebody to cut my meat and wipe my chin, I'll settle down. You?"
"Wife died six years ago-cancer. I've got a daughter graduating from UCLA next year. She wants to join the LAPD. Can't seem to talk her out of it."
"UCLA sounds expensive."
"I live on my pension; the P.I. work pays for UCLA. Maybe when she's out on her own I'll just play golf all the time."
"I play golf," Vittorio said.
"Yeah? I never saw an Indian on a golf course."
"Maybe not in L.A."
"Something red," Cupie said.
"Indians aren't red."
Cupie nodded. "Up the road, something red."
Vittorio squinted, then produced a small pair of binoculars from a pocket. "Grand Cherokee," he said.
"Check out four cars back."
Vittorio moved the binoculars slightly. "Black Suburban," he said, "with black windows. Trying to get around the traffic."
Cupie sighed. "Here we go again."
Nineteen
VITTORIO STARTED THE CAR, AND AS SOON AS THE BLACK Suburban passed, he gunned the V-8 engine and forced his way into the line of traffic, nearly causing a multicar accident.
"What the hell are you doing?" Cupie demanded, struggling to get his seat belt on.
"Is it the same Suburban?"
"Don't you see the bullet hole in the rear window?"
"Right. Hang on; big curve coming up."
"What's your plan, Vittorio? If we chase these guys, they're eventually going to get out of their car and shoot at us. You want to get shot at again?"
"Nope, I want to avoid getting shot at."
They entered a sharp curve to the left, and Vittorio stomped on the accelerator again.
"Slow down!" Cupie yelled. "You want to hit them?"
"Yeah," Vittorio said, his face screwed up with concentration.
"You're tailgating!"
"Shut up, Cupie." Well into the curve Vittorio pulled to the left, brought his front bumper in line with the Suburban's rear bumper and jerked the wheel hard to the right. The bumpers connected, and the rear end of the Suburban began sliding to the right. It continued sliding until the big vehicle had rotated about a hundred and fifty-degrees, then its rear wheels left the road and the Suburban began to travel, backward, down a steep, dirt embankment and toward a big copse of thick brush.
"Holy shit!" Cupie yelled.
They passed the Suburban when it had already reached the brush and was tearing, backward, into it.
"Where the hell did you learn to do that?"
"I used to drive in demolition derbies when I was a kid," Vittorio said, permitting himself a rare, small smile. "Look back. Did they turn over?"
"No, but they're still going backward."
"Shit! I wanted to roll them over. I guess I'm a little rusty."
"They're going to be busy for a while, getting out of those brambles and back on the road."
"Barbara is still three cars ahead of us," Vittorio said, pointing.
"Good. Let's hang back until she parks the car, then reintroduce ourselves."
They followed the red Grand Cherokee into the shopping district of the village and watched Barbara park in front of a restaurant and go inside. They jumped down from the big Toyota and followed her.
The headwaiter was seating Barbara in a booth at the rear of the restaurant, and when he returned, Cupie waved him off. "We're with the lady," he said, brushing past the man.
Barbara didn't see them coming until Cupie slid into the booth beside her and Vittorio sat opposite.
"Good afternoon," Cupie said. "I missed lunch, too. What kind of food they got here?" He looked over her shoulder at the menu.
"Mexican," she said acidly, glaring at him. "Why don't you two guys just leave me alone?"
"Because if we do that, you'll be kidnapped," Cupie replied. "Didn't you see the big black Suburban following you as you drove into Acapulco?"
"Liar."
"No lie, sweetheart. Vittorio, here, managed to run them off the road in a way that must have been very embarrassing for them, but they'll be back. This is the second time your bank gave them a call."
"I'm having the combination plate," she said, handing Cupie the menu.
A waitress came over, and she ordered.
"Whatever she's having," Cupie said.
Vittorio nodded. "Same here."
"And three Carta Blancas," Cupie added.
"Well, this is very cozy," Barbara said. "How about if I cause a big scene, and they call the cops. Would you like that?"
"Okay by me," Cupie said. "But you should know that I paid the cops in Puerto Vallarta a visit and swore out a complaint against you for shooting me, so they're looking for you all over the country right now."
"Lying again."
"Would you like me to ask the headwaiter to call them?" Cupie asked, waving at the man, who started over.
"No!" she said.
Cupie waved off the man as their beers arrived, then he took a big swig. "Ahhhh," he said, "that hits the spot." He turned back to Barbara. "So let's recap," he said. "You've got three parties who insist on your company: the cops, the kidnappers and us. The cops will lock you away in a jail that will not meet your housekeeping standards and make you eat beans and rice with people you wouldn't ordinarily see at dinner; on the other hand, the kidnappers will hurt you until you countersign all the travelers' checks in your purse-they won't take kindly to Minnie Mouse-then they'll gang-rape you and leave you in an arroyo with a bullet in your brain; but all Vittorio and I want is for you to sign six blank sheets of paper, and then we'll leave you alone. Who do you choose?"
Barbara took a pull on her beer. "I'm thinking it over," she said.
"Any one of the options will meet our client's wishes," Cupie said, helpfully.
"And you… What's your name?"
"Cupie Dalton, at your service."
"And what do you and the grim savage, here, really want?"
"Only to be of service to our client, your very concerned husband."
"Could you use ten thousand dollars each, in cash?"
"Why madam, are you trying to bribe us?"
"Because that's what I'll give you to get me out of this country, without being arrested or kidnapped, and back into the United States."
Vittorio placed a file on the table, opened it and produced a pen. "Sign six sheets of paper with your proper name, and we'll accept your offer."
Cupie spoke up again. "Just sign the papers, take the three hundred grand and we'll head to El Norte."
Barbara picked up the pen, signed each of the papers, then put down the pen.
Vittorio examined the signatures, closed the file and put it away.
"Now," she said, "do we have a deal?"
"Sure, why not?" Cupie asked.
"Well, I want to finish my lunch and get some sleep before we head out."
"I guess we could use some lunch and some sleep, too."
As if on cue, lunch arrived.
"I wouldn't drink the water," Cupie said. "Stick to beer for everything but showering."
They dug in.
"Oh, I forgot," Cupie said. "Your husband told us to tell you that your plan to have him murdered didn't work. The guy you hired and his accomplice are in jail."
They finished lunch, Cupie paid the check and they got up to leave. "Let me just remind you," he said. "We already have what we want, so in effect, we're now working for you. However, we do wish to be paid in advance; so we'd better go to a bank, so you can cash some traveler's checks."
"All right," she said. "I have to turn in my rental car and get my deposit back, too."
A few minutes later, Cupie and Vittorio were tucking cash into their pockets.