together. He was very sad about what he did to you. I gave him a shoulder to cry on and offered to help him.”
“Some help,” I said.
“I tried to save him.”
“A doctor would have been better.”
“He didn’t want a doctor,” she said. “He wanted the money from the bond and the police would have messed all that up.”
I grunted, and Elana looked away. She wanted the money so bad that she had a dead man begging for it.
“You gonna shoot me?” I asked.
“Only if you want me to,” she said.
“No thanks.”
“Why don’t you join me, Paris? We could make this money together. We could split it,” she smiled, “or share.”
“I don’t know if I like the odds.”
“What odds?”
“I was sitting outside of the motel when Latham and Brother Grove got laid low. I saw you driving in the opposite direction.”
“When Bernard fell asleep I called Father Vincent. He said he’d call Grove,” she explained, “but he brought that big white German dude. They were gonna rob us, but somebody called Latham and warned him. The pig, he ran out with my bag ’cause he thought the bond was in there.”
“But I bet you took it out while he was sleeping off that thing you do with your tongue.”
I regretted what I said immediately because it made her angry. And it doesn’t pay to make a woman angry when she has a gun pointed at your head.
“No thank you, Elana,” I said. “I don’t think I could survive a partnership with you. But you could tell me something.”
“What?”
“Why you messin’ around with Leon when you already been to see the Israeli guys?”
My knowledge of her actions disconcerted Elana a little. But she was a smart enough cookie to keep cool even in surprise.
“They say they payin’ like two percent for a finder’s fee. But Leon’s connection was talkin’ about a share.” She hesitated a minute and then continued, “You could get your friend, Paris, we could go to Leon and get him to tell who the connection is. You might as well, ’cause you know Leon’ll try an’ kill the both of you after you shamed him like you did.”
“Lawson and Widlow,” I said.
“Say what?”
“Lawson and Widlow. Accounting. Somewhere in Beverly Hills. That’s Leon’s connection. It’s on me.”
Elana got that tight look around her eyes. Every time I’d seen it before, she was soon to figure out my angle or meaning. But not that time.
“You wanna come with me?” she asked.
“Not for a hundred thousand dollars,” I said.
She almost said something. But words failed.
“Where’s your friend?” she asked, moving away from the door cautiously.
“Fearless is in his girlfriend’s arms. I wish I was too.”
“Why you tellin’ me about Leon’s connection?” she demanded.
I gestured at the cooling corpse. “I done had enough shit.”
For the next few seconds my life was in the balance. Killing me might have been a good idea. But I had played my best card. I didn’t want any more to do with Elana Love. Sitting there next to Theodore was the safest thing I could do. The money, even if we could have found it, stolen from doomed men, was itself a kind of doom. Maybe Elana Love could ride that kind of storm. I sure couldn’t.
“You’re a fool, Paris.” Elana Love was neither the first nor the last woman to think so or say it.
I nodded.
She backed toward the door and let herself out.
I DON’T KNOW what happened for a while after that. I suppose that Elana went to the accountants’ offices and saw the aftermath of the carnage we had witnessed. Maybe, after a day or so, she was able to speak to the principals. I doubt if that meeting did much
