"Yeah, I guess."
"And then, when Harold gets out, he meets you to give you the other eleven grand he promised you, and instead, he gives you a bullet. You're gone, and he keeps all the money. The cops don't much care who killed you, at least not the way they'd care who killed Mr. Eagle. Get the picture?"
Bobby gave a low whistle. "Man, I really bit, didn't I?"
"You sure did."
"But where are we going?"
Big Bear pulled over to the curb in front of the bus station. "We're there," he said, "and we're about to save your life."
"How?"
"It's like this: you take some of the grand and you go inside and buy a bus ticket."
"To where?"
"Anywhere you like, Bobby; that's the beauty of this thing. You're free as a bird, and you've got a thousand dollars in your pocket."
"But I like it here, in Santa Fe."
"Not anymore, Bobby. Santa Fe isn't the place for you anymore."
"Why not?"
"Two reasons: one, because when Harold gets out, he'll kill you for not killing Mr. Eagle. Of course, he was always going to kill you."
"I can handle Harold. What's the other reason?"
Big Bear reached under his jean jacket, pulled out the Colt Python and pointed it at Bobby. "The other reason is that if you don't go in there and get on a bus, I'm gonna kill you. Same if you should come back to Santa Fe. Now, is all that perfectly clear?"
"I guess so."
"Don't guess, Bobby."
"It's clear."
"And don't think things are going to improve if you wait awhile, because Harold will still be here, and I'll still be here, too." Big Bear unlocked the doors. "Go ahead. I'll wait until I see you on a bus. Be sure and wave."
"Well, thanks for the lift," Bobby said. He got out of the truck and headed for the bus station.
Big Bear waited until the next bus pulled out, and he saw Bobby waving from a window. He started the engine, turned around and drove back to the jail. He shoved the pistol under his seat then went inside, presented himself at the visitors' window and asked to see Harold Fuentes.
After a half-hour's wait, a man with gray hair and a ponytail walked into the visiting room and sat down at a table, looking around for a familiar face. Big Bear walked over and sat down at the table. "Hey, Harold," he said.
"Who the fuck are you?" Fuentes asked.
"I'm the guy who's bringing you the good news," Big Bear said.
"What good news?"
"You just made, what, twenty-four thousand dollars, and you didn't have to do anything for it."
Fuentes looked around warily. "What are you talking about?"
"It's like this, Harold: the party who paid you the money is now in Mexico and is never coming back."
"How do you know this?"
"I know all sorts of things you don't know, Harold. For instance, I know that Bobby, the guy you hired to do the dirty work, is, right now, on a bus out of town, and he's not coming back. So, you don't have to kill him, and, of course, you don't have to kill Mr. Eagle. When you get out, you just spend the money, without a care in the world."
"And you're sure about all this?"
"I'm absolutely positive, Harold."
"Is that all you've got to tell me?"
"Just one more thing, Harold: if you should somehow forget all this and take it into your mind to harm Mr. Eagle anyway, I'm going to blow your fucking head off. Got that?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Have a nice stay here, Harold, and enjoy yourself when you get out."
Harold stood up. "I'll do my best. Oh, and thanks."
"Don't mention it," Big Bear said. "Not to anybody." He got up and left the jail.
Once in the parking lot, he called Ed Eagle's office and asked for the lawyer.
"Joe, it's Eagle."
"Good morning, Mr. Eagle. I just wanted you to know that the little problem you mentioned to me has been taken care of."
"Peacefully?"
"Absolutely."
"And you'll see the other guy, when he gets out?"
"I visited him in jail. He was very happy to hear that he gets to keep the money without having to earn it. I put the other fellow on a bus out of town, and he won't be back. We all square on my legal costs?"
"What legal costs?" Eagle asked. "Thanks, and good-bye, Joe."
"Bye-bye, Mr. Eagle."
Twenty-one
CUPIE GOT UP, SHOWERED AND SHAVED, THEN TURNED over the bathroom to Vittorio. He walked next door and rapped on Barbara's door. "Good morning!" he shouted.
No reply.
"Answer me, or I'll kick down the door," Cupie said, wondering if she had flown the coop again.
"All right, all right," she said.
"I'm going to go and change cars, and Vittorio and I will meet you in the restaurant for breakfast."
"All right."
Cupie got into the Toyota 4Runner, drove to the rental car office and exchanged it for a Camry. "The SUV is too big," he explained to the clerk.
"Whatever you say, senor," the woman replied.
"Can I drop the car at any of your offices?"
"As long as you drop it in Mexico," the woman said. "You cross the border in it, and there's no insurance and big trouble."
Cupie drove back to the hotel and found Vittorio and Barbara silently eating breakfast. He sat down and ordered eggs and bacon.
"How are we going to do this?" Barbara asked.
"It's fairly simple," Cupie replied. "We drive to the airport and put you on the flight of your choice."
"I'm paying you guys twenty thousand dollars for a ride to the airport?"
"A ride to the airport with armed guards," Cupie explained. "Otherwise, it's a long drive to the border."
"What if the kidnappers or the police are watching the airport?"
"Then we'll take a long drive to the border."
"You got a new car?" Vittorio asked.
"Yeah, a nice Toyota Camry anonymous green. Did you call Mr. Eagle?"
"Yeah, and he was very pleased. I'm going to drop off the paperwork at the Federal Express counter at the airport, then we're done."
"Not until my plane takes off," Barbara said.
"Then we're done with Mr. Eagle."
"Funny, so am I."
They finished their breakfast and loaded the luggage into the car.
Cupie opened the back door for her. "I'd like it if you'd lie down on the seat," he said.
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to get unlucky. If certain people can't see you, we'll be luckier."
"Oh, all right," she groused.
"Unless you'd rather have people shooting at you through the windows."
"I said all right, okay?" She got into the car and made herself comfortable.
"Then we're off."
"I'll drive," Vittorio said.
"Yeah, Geronimo, you got all the moves," Cupie replied, sliding into the passenger seat.
"Wrong evil Indian; it's Vittorio."
"Whatever. Mrs. Eagle, what is your preferred destination city?"
"I don't know. Where can you fly to from Acapulco?"
"Well, let's see: certainly L.A. and San Francisco; maybe Denver, Atlanta, and probably New York."
"Not L.A.," she said.
"Bad vibes in L.A.?"
"Bad people."
"They got those everywhere."
"There's bad, and there's bad."
"Well, L.A.'s my home sweet home, and that's where I'm going. I'd love your company on the flight, but suit yourself. How about you, Vittorio?"
"Albuquerque," Vittorio replied. "My car's at the airport there."