'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.'
'Well, to each his own,' Cupie said. 'What I think I'm going to do when I get home is take my daughter out to a really good restaurant and encourage her to go to law school.'
'Why law school?'
'Well, it might make her forget about joining the LAPD, and get her into the D.A.'s office, instead. And if it doesn't, the law degree will impress the LAPD recruiters.'
'Lawyers are not nice people,' the voice from the backseat said. 'I've seen too many lawyers the past few years and been married to one. Tell her to major in fashion design.'
'How would she ever meet an eligible, heterosexual man in the fashion business?' Cupie asked.
'You'd be surprised. Of course, the straight ones are very, very busy.'
'Next turn for the airport,' Cupie said.
'I saw the sign,' Vittorio replied drily. He made the turn. 'I'll drop you two off at curbside check-in, then I'll turn in the car and find you inside.'
'Okay,' Cupie replied, 'but don't drive away until I've had a look around and give you the high sign.'
'The high sign?'
'Like a thumbs-up.'
'Oh.'
'Which airline?'
'Doesn't matter; we're not going to check in at curbside anyway. I don't like it with all the cars driving by.'
'Uh-oh,' Vittorio said.
'What?' Cupie replied.
'Black suburban, battered, bullet hole in the rear window, at twelve o'clock, curbside.'
'Where?' Barbara asked, sitting up.
Cupie pushed her back down in the backseat. 'I swear, you just want to be a duck in a shooting gallery, don't you?' Cupie watched as the driver got out of the Suburban and strolled over to two Mexican police officers loafing on the curb.
'Just keep driving, Vittorio.'
'What, you thought I was going to stop and ask directions?' Vittorio asked.
Twenty-two
EAGLE HUNG UP THE PHONE FROM HIS CONVERSATION with Vittorio. He felt relieved, relaxed, clean, as if after a sauna and a massage. In one day, perhaps two, he'd have the blank sheets with Barbara's signature, and life would be sweet again. So it had cost him three hundred thousand dollars plus the fees and expenses of Cupie, Vittorio and Russell Norris, say another fifty thousand. So what? It would be the cheapest divorce he could ever
