"Well, I was going to, but once this place is livable I don't really have anything to occupy me here, until I get some work."
"Come here, and I'll occupy you. In fact, I'll see if I can't get the closing brought forward. I know that the owner has already moved out. And I have a comfortable guest suite, and I'd be very pleased if you'd stay at my house until the closing."
"That would be very nice. See what you can do about the closing, and I'll go ahead and have my furniture shipped."
"Do you have enough to fill the house?"
"No, not with splitting my things between two places."
"I'll give you a list of all the best shops."
"I'm going to need a housekeeper and a secretary, too."
"I'll put my secretary on that right away."
"You're a doll, Ed Eagle."
"I hope you'll still think so a year from now."
"Why a year?"
"I reckon that's how long it will take you to find out."
"We'll see. I've gotta run. Somebody just dropped a Baccarat goblet."
Eagle hung up feeling like a new man, but then it occurred to him that he hadn't received the FedEx package from Vittorio. He called the Apache's cell phone.
"Hello?"
"Vittorio? It's Ed Eagle."
"Good morning, Mr. Eagle."
"Why haven't I received the FedEx package from you?"
"I was planning to send it from the airport yesterday, but I got held up. It'll go out today, I promise."
"Everything all right?"
"Couldn't be better," Vittorio replied.
"Give my best to Cupie."
"Will do." He hung up.
Eagle wasn't going to feel comfortable until he had those blank pages in hand.
JOE BIG BEAR SAT outside the Western Union office, reading a paperback novel, a western. He glanced up at the storefront, watching the clerk inside for some sign that he had received the wire. Nothing. He looked at his watch: eleven-forty. She wasn't going to send it.
Oh, well, he thought, I'll just have to get by with the twelve-five from Harold. At that moment, the clerk left his counter, went to the front door and waved Joe inside. His heart leapt, and he hurried into the office.
"Your wire is in," the man said. "How do you want the money?"
"In cash."
"You sure you don't want a cashier's check? It's safer."
"Nah, I've gotta pay for a car in cash."
"Give me a minute," the man said. "I'll have to see if we've got that much." He disappeared into a back room.
Joe took a chair, picked up a magazine and tried to be cool.
Five minutes later, the clerk returned with a large brown envelope. "I don't have it all in hundreds," he said, "so I had to give you a lot of fifties and twenties."
"No problem," Joe said.
The man handed him the envelope. "Count it, please."
Joe riffled through each stack of bills, counting quickly. "It's all here," he said.
"Sign right here, Mr. Grande," the clerk said, offering him a pen. "Pepe Oso Grande," the clerk mused. "Doesn't that mean Joseph Big Bear in English?"
"Something like that," Joe replied. He signed the document, took his money and walked out. Back in the car, he didn't trust himself to drive for a moment. His heart was pounding, he was breathing rapidly, and he was sweating.
"Thirty-seven thousand, five hundred dollars," he said aloud, mopping his brow. He'd never had more than two thousand dollars at once in his life. He took some deep breaths and started the car. He had no idea where to go, so he just wandered slowly in the direction of home. What would he do with all this money? He hadn't allowed himself to think about that until now.
"Buy a safe," he said aloud. He turned into Sam's Club, stuffed the cash under his seat and locked the pickup. He was back in twenty minutes with a heavy, cardboard box on a dolly. With the help of a clerk, he muscled it into the pickup and unlocked the cab, checking to see that the money was still under the seat.
He drove back to his trailer, got his toolbox and bolted the safe to the floor under a kitchen cabinet. Then he set the combination into the electronic lock and practiced opening it a few times. Satisfied, he took the money out of its envelope and placed it on a shelf in the safe, along with the twelve-five from Harold, then he closed and locked the safe and got a beer from the fridge.
He sat, sipping it, thinking about what he could do with thirty-seven thousand, five hundred dollars. It was all his, and he didn't have to do a fucking thing for it. The woman didn't know who she'd wired the money to.
Then the beer went sour in his mouth. Harold knew who he was, and he had promised to find and kill him if Eagle wasn't dead before he got out of jail.
Joe swallowed hard. It was the first time it had occurred to him that he was really going to have to kill Ed Eagle. And he was probably going to have to kill Harold, too, when he got out. And his wife; she knew his name, too.
Thirty-one
BARBARA WOKE UP BEFORE DAWN. VlTTORIO WAS SLEEPING soundly beside her. She picked up her handbag, then walked to where Vittorio's bag stood open and felt inside, coming up with the Federal Express envelope. She took it into the bathroom, locked the door and turned on the light.
It was just an ordinary FedEx shipping envelope; he hadn't affixed the label, yet. She pulled the tab that opened it and removed the signed blank sheets of paper inside. Then she opened her large handbag and took out the FedEx envelope and blank paper she had gotten from the bank. She stuffed the blank sheets inside, sealed it, then put the old envelope and the signed sheets into her handbag. Then she switched off the light, unlocked the door and tiptoed to Vittorio's bag. She put the FedEx envelope containing the blank sheets into the bag, then crept back into bed. "What?" Vittorio said.
"Nothing," she said. "I just went to the bathroom."
He reached for her, and she melted into his arms, feeling for his crotch. Gotta keep him sweet, she thought, and she ducked under the covers, giving herself to the enterprise.
WHEN SHE WAS DONE, she nestled in his arms.
"That was wonderful," he said.
"You know what would be wonderful?"
"What?"
"If we could just stay down here."
"In Mexico?"
"Yes. I like it down here, and you can live dirt cheap."
"Your three hundred grand wouldn't last all that long."
"I've got more coming," she said. "A lot more."
"From where?"
"From Ed," she said.
"I don't think that's going to happen," he said.
"It'll happen, if you don't FedEx him those signed sheets."
"That wouldn't work," he said.
"Why not?"
"Cupie."
"What about him?"
"He wouldn't sit still for that."
"So, don't tell him. We can just send him on his way."
"But when Eagle doesn't get the signatures, he'll put Cupie on us. Cupie is very smart; he'd find us again."
She wondered if she could talk him into killing Cupie. Probably not. "I guess you're right," she said. She turned over, putting her back to him. He reached for her ass, but she removed his hand.
"Look, baby," he said, "I took the man's money; I have to finish the job."
"You took my money, too."
"And I'm going to finish that job. I'll get you back to the States."
She said nothing.
"And then there's the Mexican police: they're still looking for you."
He had a point. She couldn't stay in Mexico. But if he sent Ed those blank sheets, the hunt would be on again, at least until this guy Pepe did the job. If he did the job. There were too many loose ends to this; she was going to have to think of a way to tie some of them up. When Eagle was dead, then she'd have everything she needed.
What she had to do now was buy time, until Pepe did his work. If Eagle died without a signed settlement agreement, she'd get his estate and the life insurance. That was the best way.
CUPIE PUT HIS BAG in the trunk of the Toyota, then leaned against it, gazing out across the Pacific. Something was wrong, he figured, maybe a lot. First, he had to get straight with Vittorio, then they could discuss the rest.