Ellie was deep in thought about money as she walked along the crowded streets. Mardi Gras. Fun. Actually, it should have been fun. It made her job easier…there's no better mark than a drunk person. Half the time they never even knew that they were robbed. They just thought they spent too much at the bar.

She hadn't tried to call Archie again; hearing his voice had been a bad idea. It made her want to hear it again. She closed her eyes briefly and let the sounds of the city wash over her. The jazz from the street performers combined with the shouting of tourists and locals, the jangle of beads, and the pulse of the music from the strip club behind her all combined into an unpleasant cacophony. She longed for the sound of the wind rustling the tree tops, for the gravel crunching under the tires of Archie's truck as he pulled into his driveway, for a breath of air not drenched in car exhaust, spilled beer and cigarette smoke.

Archie's heart stuttered when he saw her. She was standing underneath a blue neon sign, her pale skin and light hair haloed in its glow. Her eyes were closed and she looked like she'd somehow transcended the place she stood in. When her eyes opened and met his at first she looked shocked, then disbelieving, then so happy that what happened next gave him a pain in his stomach.

Ellie had taken a half step toward Archie when she felt someone grab her arm and twist up and back. She gave an involuntary cry of pain that was perfectly cloaked in the revelry of Mardi Gras. She felt a needle pierce her skin; white hot panic flooded her body. She couldn't seem to move her arms or legs suddenly and the last thing she saw as she tried to work up a scream was Archie stepping forward, catching her as she fell.

When she woke up her head was pounding and her mouth was so dry that swallowing hurt. She wasn't sure where she was. She wasn't even sure she was still in New Orleans. A glance at the window told her that it was nearly morning. The sun was sending thin streaks of light down through the dying haze of night. She moved to rub her eyes and realized her hands were bound. Of course.

Had she really seen Archie? She couldn't have. But who else looked like that?

The door opened and Ellie closed her eyes.

"So this is her?" a man's voice asked. "Different from the last one isn't she?"

Another man laughed and said, "In looks maybe, but not in style. Seems like our friend is easily fooled by a pretty face."

"Maybe he is but I am not," the first man continued. "Open your eyes and don't pretend with me."

Resigned, Ellie looked up at him. He was average height with dark skin and dark hair. He looked exotic and handsome and cruel. Like Rocky, but younger.

"My name is Raphael," he said. "And my friend Archie says you have something I'm looking for."

"I don't know anyone named Archie," Ellie lied as her mind scrambled to make sense of this.

"I asked you not to pretend with me," Raphael said. "I'm not going to ask you again. Every lie will cost you something."

Ellie shivered as he casually flicked open the knife he'd held in his left hand.

"Some lies will cost more than others," he went on. "Some might be something simple," he trailed the knife down her cheek gently, "like Archie. Some might be more inventive." The knife moved to her throat and down, between her breasts, ending at her belly button. "Are you ready to tell me the truth?"

"About what?"

"Several years ago Archie Lafontaine stole some money from me. It happens. I give him something to remember me by," the knife traced Ellie's cheek again, "and I send him stumbling on his way. A year later I kill him for trying again. His woman, she steals the 250,000. Or so I thought. I track her down, question her…"

"Where is she now?" Ellie interrupted.

Raphael gave her a smile and shook his head as he said simply, "I questioned her thoroughly. Either way, he'd fooled her too. He takes my money, he disappears. No one can find him. Not even my best men," he glanced over his shoulder at the other man in the room who bowed slightly. "It's like he's off the face of the earth. Very well. I move on. But I never forget. Never. And then, fortune smiles on me and he shows up in this town, practically on my doorstep. Looking, he says, for you."

"For me?" Ellie asked. "Why me?"

"Why you? Maybe I have worded it wrong. Not you. For the money you stole from him. The money that's rightfully mine. He showed me where to get you. Says that I'll be able to get what I'm owed plus interest when I'm done. Don't take it personally," Raphael said with a smile. "I questioned him thoroughly as well."

"Is he dead?"

"No. Not yet. He will be, after the money is in my hands. It's up to you how slowly it happens."

"Why should I care?" Ellie asked. "He sold me out. He betrayed me."

"Your deaths will be identical," the man clarified. "You take me straight to the money like a good girl…a bullet to the brain for you both. You fuck around, you lead me on, you try to play with me…I make you beg for death for days."

Ellie didn't know what to say. She knew that saying she didn't have the money, which was the truth, would lead to her getting cut. She felt confused and sick to her stomach. Why was Archie doing this to her? What was he thinking?

"I don't have access to the money," she said when Raphael twitched the knife impatiently. "I'm in debt to a man named Rocky. All the money I've taken is his." True as far as it went.

"Rocky," Raphael repeated. "And where would I find him?"

"Desert Pearls," Ellie said quickly. "He owns it."

"Desert…Robert? Robert Marino? That's your Rocky?"

"He's not my..." Ellie cut the protest off and said, "Yes."

"I see."

Raphael was silent for a moment and then he stood up.

"Maybe you'd like to see your friend," he said suddenly. "Marco, bring in our old friend Archie."

Marco wasn't gone long. When he shoved Archie into the room Ellie had to bite back a gasp of shock. The same old cut down his cheek had been opened up with near surgical precision and blood stained his shirt from that and other wounds. His left eye was nearly swollen shut and his lip was split. She could tell from the way he held himself stiffly upright that his face hadn't received all the attention.

"Archie," she whispered in dismay.

His gaze barely brushed her by contrast.

` "Marco was remarking how very different she is from your last," Raphael said with an insolent smile. "Bad memories?"

Archie shrugged and then winced as he said, "I'm not exactly in the market for a looker. My criteria is slightly more…specific."

"Whatever happened to the little boy?" Raphael went on. "Your Divana was quite devoted to him. Or at least very much against the idea of me hurting him."

Archie didn't risk another shrug. All he said was, "Why should I have believed the kid was mine?"

"Oh I would believe it. She was in no position to lie to me."

"Well then I guess I got off easy. No alimony. No child support. She giving you the money or what?"

"You know I don't have it!" Ellie was close to tears. There had been a child? He'd never, ever, said anything about being a father.

"Says it's in her boss's hands," Raphael said. "For both your sake she better be telling me the truth."

Archie didn't speak. Ellie searched his battered face for a sign. Anything that told her that he was saving more than his own skin; she didn't find anything. When he looked at her it was cold, as if nothing had ever happened between them. As if he'd never held her close while a storm raged overhead, as if he'd never told her he loved her, or trusted her with his real name.

"What difference does it make?" Ellie spat out. "You're going to kill us both anyway!"

"I haven't given up," Archie said easily, his smile somewhat crooked due to his split lip and cut cheek. "I'll prove my usefulness to Raphael yet. Next thing you know I'll be doing Marco's job."

"You're smart enough," Raphael admitted. "But I prefer to sleep with at least one eye closed."

"Good luck kid," Archie called to Ellie as they led him back to his room. "You'll need it."