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"What's that?" Jodie asked.

"Just some things I dropped."

She opened the other passport and looked at the photo of Jodie for a long moment. She then closed it and shoved both passports into the back pocket of her jeans. She took Jodie's hand and started leading her out. As she went she bent down and grabbed the gym bag with her other hand. She hadn't kept count but she was pretty sure there were still more than twenty bricks in the bag. More than a million dollars.

She looked at the gun lying on the floor near the open window. She thought about it for a moment but decided to leave it. No guns.

"Let's go," she said to herself more than Jodie.

As they went through the bedroom Cassie glanced back into the room. In the bullet-fractured mirror she caught a disjointed image from the television. It was Porky Pig doffing his hat. He said, "Th-th-th-that's all, folks."

The disorder in the casino was still in full thrust when they came out of the elevator alcove and started making their way toward the exit doors. Cassie picked up Jodie and carried her. They skirted around two men who had wrestled each other to the ground as they fought over a sheaf of bills that had apparently fallen without coming apart.

"What are they doing?" Jodie asked.

"Showing their true hearts," Cassie answered.

They made it to the exit doors without Cassie seeing a single blue blazer. Cassie turned to push the glass door open with her back because her hands were full with Jodie and the gym bag. She glanced back across the casino, her eyes rising above the melee to the crow's nest. She saw one corner of the gold curtain hanging over the edge. Otherwise it looked empty.

47

CASSIE'S full focus was on getting to the car and then getting out of Las Vegas. So she and Jodie did not speak until the Boxster was on the freeway heading toward Los Angeles. It was as if Cassie could not take a breath until she was far from the neon glow of the Strip. When she had pushed the Boxster into fifth and set the cruise control at seventy-five, she finally looked over at the little girl belted into the seat next to her.

"Are you okay, Jodie?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"I'm fine."

"You have a bruise on your cheek where that man hit you. I saw him. That's when I hid in the tunnel."

"Bruises go away. Are you tired?"

"Nope."

But Cassie knew she was. She reached across and reclined Jodie's seat to the maximum so that she could sleep. She put the Lucinda Williams CD into the player and put it on low. She was listening to the lyrics and thinking about the choice she had to make at some point on the drive to L.A. when Jodie spoke again.

"I knew you would come for me."

Cassie looked over at her. The glow from the dashboard revealed her daughter's face looking back at her.

"How did you know?"

"My mommy told me I have a guarding angel watching me. I think it is you."

Cassie looked back at the road ahead. She felt tears welling in her eyes.

"Guardian angel, baby. Guardian."

"I'm not a baby."

"I know. I'm sorry."

They drove in silence for a half minute. Cassie thought about her choice.

"I know," she repeated.

"How come you're crying?" Jodie asked.

Cassie wiped the tears aside with the heels of her palms. She then tightly gripped the steering wheel and willed herself not to shed another tear in front of the girl.

"Because I'm happy," she answered.

"About what?"

Cassie looked over at Jodie and smiled.

"Because I'm with you. And because we got away."

A confused look crossed Jodie's face in the dim light.

"Are you taking me home?"

Cassie nodded slowly.

"Jodie, I'm… From now on you're going to be with your mother."

Jodie fell asleep soon after and dreamed all the way to Los Angeles. Cassie took long looks at her as she slept and thought she saw both Max and herself. She definitely had Max's high forehead. It made her love her all the more.

"I love you, Jane," she said, using the name she would have given her.

By five the dark tunnel of the desert had turned to a predawn gray and the desolate landscape was overtaken by the gradual buildup of the Los Angeles sprawl. Cassie gulped the last of the cold coffee she had gotten at the window of a twenty-four-hour McDonald's in Barstow. She was on the 10 Freeway heading toward the interchange with the Golden State Freeway, the north-south route which could take her south to Mexico in three hours.

She turned the radio on low and tuned in KFWB, the all-news station that repeated the top stories every twenty minutes. She caught the tail end of a feature report on champagne hoarding for the millennium and then the news anchor broke to a traffic report before starting at the top of the news.

Hers was the first story. She looked over at Jodie to make sure she was still asleep and leaned forward toward the dashboard speaker to hear it better. The anchor had a deep and smooth voice.

"This morning authorities were searching for a female ex-convict believed responsible for a one-day crime spree that included two separate shootings and a kidnapping. LAPD spokesmen said Cassidy Black, a thirty-three-year-old woman who served five years in a Nevada prison for a manslaughter conviction, was being sought as the chief suspect in the double murder of two co-workers yesterday morning. The shootings at Hollywood Porsche, where Black had worked as a saleswoman for less than a year, were followed by the shooting in Black's Hollywood home of her parole agent, identified as Thelma Kibble, a forty-two-year-old resident of Hawthorne. Kibble, according to authorities, had gone to Black's home on a routine parolee check and was apparently unaware of the shootings at the dealership earlier. Investigators believe there was a confrontation and Kibble was overpowered and shot once in the chest with her own weapon. Kibble was in critical but stable condition last night at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. She is expected to recover."

Cassie leaned forward, closed her eyes and made an audible sigh of relief. Thelma Kibble had made it. She opened her eyes and checked Jodie once more. The girl was still asleep. Cassie focused on the rest of the radio report.

"Authorities said Kibble had not yet been interviewed because of her condition. Late Friday investigators confirmed that Black had also been linked to the abduction of a five-and-a-half-year-old girl from the front yard of her Laurel Canyon home. Authorities said Black is Jodie Shaw's natural mother but gave the girl up for adoption shortly after she was born at High Desert Correctional Institution in Nevada. It was believed that Black abducted the girl in a late-model Lincoln or Chrysler that was black in color with dark-tinted windows. LAPD detectives initially were handling the abduction investigation separately until they learned the missing girl had been adopted and her natural mother was Black. More on this developing story will be available today as the investigation progresses."

Cassie turned off the radio. She could now see the spires of downtown ahead. She thought about the radio report. The police were following Karch's plan to the letter. She realized that even in death he might succeed.

"Thelma," she said out loud.

She knew Thelma Kibble was the key. If she made it through she would tell them and the real story would be revealed.

Still, it did not absolve her, she knew. She was guilty. So many deaths. All because of her desires.

She tried to push the thoughts and the guilt away. She knew they would always be near and one day would have to be answered. But for now she had to put them aside.

She reached to her back pocket for the passports. She hit the light over the rearview and opened them side by side on the steering wheel so that her photo was right next to Jodie's. Her eyes fell to the line marked employment. It said Homemaker and she had to smile. Leo's last joke.

She folded the passports closed, one inside the other, and held them against her heart. A sign that announced the Golden State Freeway interchange in two miles went by. Two miles, she thought. Two minutes to decide the future of two lives.