his gaze. 'You know what's going on here, what's happening?' If she did, she didn't acknowledge it, one way or the other. 'You're my bargaining chip. With you I've got a chance of getting the money back. Without you I've got no chance at all.'
He took her back to the bathroom. She went in, but didn't say anything, wouldn't look at him. He closed the door and locked it.
McCabe was gone longer than he planned. He'd driven through Bagnaia, checked it out and stopped at the gardens at Villa Lante, but didn't find a location that would work. He'd stick with his Viterbo plan.
He drove back to Pietro's place, parked the car and went inside. He unlocked the bathroom door and swung it open. Expected her to be standing there, but she wasn't. Did he forget to lock the door? No, he rewound and saw himself doing it. Locked it and checked the handle to make sure.
He crossed the room and opened the gun case, three shotguns in their custom slots, one missing. He gripped the barrel of a twelve-gauge, lifting it out.
'Put it down,' she said somewhere behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw her holding the shotgun across her waist, barrel leveled at him, flat and horizontal like she knew what she was doing.
McCabe's dad had been a duck hunter, he knew shotguns, knew the stance. He put the gun back in the case and turned toward her. 'You had your chance. Why didn't you go? Or are you waiting for them to pick you up?'
He moved toward her and she raised the shotgun, stock against her shoulder, twin blue steel barrels pointed at his chest.
She said, 'I think you should stay right there, do not move.'
She was on the other side of the room about fifteen feet away.
'You going to shoot me?' He took another step toward her, nervous, not sure what she was going to do, staring down the end of the barrels. Saw her cock the twin hammers back with her thumb.
McCabe said, 'Think you've got the nerve?' Challenging her, daring her to do it.
'Take another step,' she said, 'you'll find out.'
He did. Moved toward her, saw her fingers twitching on the triggers. He reached out, grabbed the shotgun, taking it out of her hands. He closed the hammers and put it on the rug.
She came at him now wild and out of control and he wrapped his arms around her and took her down on the antique rug, his body on hers, holding her arms at her sides against the floor, looking at her, faces a few inches apart. He kissed her. That's what he'd wanted to do since he'd brought her here, since the first time he saw her.
She kissed him back, and they were making out, McCabe into it, lost in the moment, and she was too, eyes closed, holding him tight. Now she opened her eyes and they were looking at each other, both a little embarrassed. What the hell had just happened? McCabe slid off her and she sat next to him, legs bent under her. 'Were you going to shoot me?'
'It isn't loaded,' she said, reaching for the shotgun, breaking it open, showing him the empty chambers.
'You looked serious,' McCabe said, 'like you were going to blow me away.'
'That was the idea.' She paused, her brown eyes locked on him. 'Admit it, now you're wondering if I called Roberto, aren't you?'
'If you did, he'd be here by now,' McCabe said.
'I didn't.'
'Tell me what's going on, will you? I don't get it.'
'I made a mistake,' Angela said. 'I caused you a lot of trouble, a lot of problems and I feel bad about it.'
It sounded sincere, but he wasn't convinced, expected Mazara to come through the door any second. He said, 'How'd you get out?'
She smiled. 'I am not going to tell you. I might have to do it again.'
'I guess there's no point locking you up,' McCabe said. 'I'm not sure what to do with you. I can't lock you up and I can't trust you.'
'Why don't you pour me a glass of wine while you're thinking about it.'
Later, in the kitchen, she said, 'I was attracted to you the first time I saw you that day at Rosati.'
'If you were, I didn't see it.'
Angela smiled. 'Under the circumstances, I didn't see much future. What you did, getting my bag back, was very heroic. I was wondering what it would be like to go out with you, get to know you.'
'Come on,' McCabe said, doubting her, although he'd felt the same way.
'It's true,' Angela said. 'There was something about you.'
'Well I couldn't take my eyes off you,' McCabe said. 'Coming toward me in Piazza del Popolo.'
She started to smile and stopped herself. 'You said I reminded you of Manuela Arcuri. I don't look anything like her.'
'That day you did. Like Manuela in Hearts Lost. Ever see it?' 'I don't think so.'
'You should.' He turned his attention to the bottle of Chianti, cut the foil off the top with a paring knife, and screwed a corkscrew through the center of the cork and pulled. It came out with a pop. He put the bottle on the tile countertop and looked at her. 'How'd you know where I was going to get off the bus?'
'Sisto, with the red hair, waited outside the entrance to the school and followed you,' Angela said.
'How'd you know I'd go after the two guys on the motorcycle?'
She smiled. 'That was completely unexpected. But it worked to my advantage. I didn't have to try to meet you. You did everything, you made it easy.'
'What if I didn't go with you?'
'But you did,' she said and smiled again.
'I couldn't resist you, huh?'
'You did seem interested.'
He flashed back to that day at the enoteca, McCabe taken by her. He would have walked her to Florence if she'd asked, walked her to Venice.
She glanced at the Chianti. 'Are you going to pour the wine some time today?'
'Oh, you want some wine?'
He filled two stemmed glasses about a third of the way and handed one to Angela. She took a big gulp. 'Take your time,' McCabe said. 'Don't drink so fast. Sip it, and taste all the things that are going on.' Shed said something like that to him at the enoteca and now he was giving it back to her.
She smiled. 'Now you are a connoisseur, uh?' She sipped the Chianti and swished it around in her mouth. 'How was that?' Angela said. 'Did I do it correctly?'
'I think you've got the hang of it,' McCabe said.
'I have to tell you. After we collected the money…' She paused. 'Sisto said you saw our faces, you would go to the police and identify us. They were talking about killing you.'
McCabe said, 'And let me guess, you talked them out of it?' Was she telling the truth?
'They were serious,' Angela said.
Her face was, too.
'I told Mazara, if they harmed you,' Angela said, 'I would go to the police myself and turn them in.'
'So you saved my life and I should be grateful, is that what you're telling me?'
'Now that you mention it.'
'I'll see what I can do.' He sipped his wine.
'I like you, McCabe.' She came up next to him and held his hands. 'I don't want anything to happen to you. But if you continue with this you are going to be hurt or worse.' She let go of his hands, stepped back and picked up her wine glass.
'I'll take my chances,' McCabe said.
'That's what I expected you to say.'
'Why'd you bring it up?'
'I was hoping you would change your mind,' Angela said.
'You think I'm going to give up, you don't know me.'
