Twelve: Separate Ways
"We were in the midst of a heist---Seth and Ritchie had just taken to starting to rob banks. Before that, Seth was trying his hand at being a cat burglar, but it wasn't working out too well. He didn't really have the sophistication. Then they were knocking over convenience stores and liquor stores and even fast food restaurants, and then they were breaking into ATM machines, but nothing gave the same rush as holding up a bank. I was the bait, the one who went into the bank, looking rather normal and pretty and distracting the bank officers. Then Seth and Ritchie would step in and all hell would break loose. I even shot a bank officer once or twice in my time, but I never tried to kill them. Seth always told me I was too soft, but he didn't seem to care too much so I didn't push my luck.
"Anyway, the problem with holding up banks was always the getaway. As soon as you left, they were chasing your ass up the street. So Seth got the idea of taking a hostage. The first few times, it went off without a hitch---we kicked him or her out somewhere on the street and took off. No one followed us because Seth threatened to shoot the hostage if he saw a single siren on his tail. But it got more and more complicated and we were keeping the hostages for longer and longer. And Ritchie---well, I had an idea at the time that he was up to something on the side, but I didn't know what it was. He'd been charged with sex offence way back in high school, and he was pretty good at hiding his continued activities from Seth. Usually it was either prostitutes or women who were unlucky enough to be walking down the street in his vicinity at too late of an hour.
"So we started keeping hostages for longer and longer. The police were getting hungrier and hungrier to catch us, and we'd been in more than a few shootouts. The hostages turned out to be extra insurance in case the cops showed up, kept us from getting killed. Well, one time, my last time with them, we had this woman. Her name was Rebecca. She was like one of those soccer moms, very normal looking, JC Penny's casual wear, graying hair, one of those big handbags full of stuff. We stole her SUV in the getaway and she was still inside it, so Seth said we were going to take her.
"We holed up in this hotel, it was called Avalanche Inn, sort of run down, like most places. Seth wanted to unload the SUV as soon as possible, so he took off with it to trade it in with a friend he knew, who was pretty good at fencing stolen cars, breaking them into little pieces and selling the parts. While we were waiting for him to come back, I got to know Rebecca a little bit. She claimed to have a headache. She said she had a heart condition, that sometimes she got blood clots, and that she was on a regular dose of aspirin. So I thought it would be a good idea to get her some aspiring in case she had any problems, as I didn't want he to die on us. Ritchie refused to go. We didn't get along too well and he wasn't going to do anything I suggested, so it was a lost cause. So I went to the main office and asked them if they had any aspiring for sale. I wound up on a bit of a chase, finally wound up walking down the road to a gas station that had like one bottle left. I kept thinking how lucky I was. I was actually proud of myself, like I'd done a little good deed. I was amazed at how it felt. It was such a stupid little thing, and yet it was something important to someone."
Then Xanny paused. Marcos could tell from the look on her face that the next part was extremely painful to remember.
"When I got back, Ritchie had been..." She turned white, then green. The memory was still sickening, even after all these years. "There was blood everywhere." She sighed deeply, pulling herself together. "I was so upset. I started screaming at Ritchie, and he threatened to shoot me, too, and I remember I punched him in the nose, nearly broke it. I knew how upset Seth was going to be when he came back, so we cleaned it up, and Ritchie told him the hostage got away. Seth was so pissed...I don't think I've ever seen him that pissed. He made us move right then, drive two or three hours over to the next town so the woman couldn't lead the police back to us. I didn't tell Seth the truth until about four in the morning, when my watch was over and his watch started. And he didn't believe me. He said I was trying to cover for screwing up, trying to blame Ritchie. I was so mad at him, even a few days later, when he tried to get all amorous with me, I wouldn't let him touch me.
"I kept that woman's bag---no one saw me do it, and it was easy. I remember the first night, during my watch, looking through her stuff...at the pictures of her kids...and how their mother wasn't going to ever come home again, wasn't going to be able to take them anywhere, see their dance recitals, cheer at their football games. And I started to cry so hard I had to stop myself by smothering my face in a pillow before I woke the boys up."
She took another breath, her throat closing with the emotion of the memory. "I don't know why I cared so much, you know? I mean, I knew nothing about a normal childhood. I think it was that one of her daughters, the oldest one, was named Alexandra. There was a high school picture in her wallet. The nickname 'Xanny' was written on the back. It's the only time in my life I've ever seen anybody with that nickname other than me. It just all sort of hit me at once.
"When we moved on, things weren't the same. Seth was mad at me all the time because I wouldn't talk to them, either one of them, and I kept sneaking away every chance I got. He even thought I'd called the police on them."
"Did you?" Marcos whispered.
She took a deep breath, shuddered. "Yes. But it wasn't like Seth to think that sort of thing of me. It wasn't like me. He'd always trusted me and I'd always kept that trust. And then all of a sudden, Ritchie goes and fucks up and it's me he blames. We got cornered in a hotel room, Seth and Ritchie had made an escape route out on the roof and over into the woods, because the hotel walls weren't very thick and the ceiling was even worse. But I stayed."
"God, how Seth looked at me! He was all calm at first, telling me I was being ridiculous, that of course I was going, that he wasn't that mad at me, that it was okay that I'd lost a hostage, it happened to all newbies, etc. etc. He did everything he could to get me to climb up on that roof, and I wouldn't go. I told him to take the money, that we were even, I even swore I hadn't called the police, but I was staying, so that they could get away. He said that wasn't good enough. He even tried to drag me out with them, but I pulled a gun on him. He didn't buy it, so I threw down the gun and ran out the door. I barely kept from getting shot, but the police arrested me, and in the confusion Seth and Ritchie were able to get away."
She stopped. There was a heavy silence.
"I kept her pictures," she whispered. "Rebecca's pictures. In my jacket pocket. Every now and again, when I'm tempted back into my old life, I look at them." She paused, looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed, tired tears. "Want to see?"
"I'd love to," he said.
After she showed him, he held her as she cried.
%%%%%%%%%%
Augusta couldn't sleep---probably because of that huge nap she'd taken earlier. But her brain kept spinning over and over her conversation with Xanny.
Alexandra Wallace.
Her twin sister.
God, it was amazing. She'd never in her whole life told anyone about that missing twin thing. She sometimes had thought her parents were crazy for believing the whole thing, it sounded like a made-up story. The feature on Unsolved Mysteries only made it more corney. And when Mom and Dad had died, it made no difference to anyone, anymore.
It just went to prove that when you least expect it, the weirdest things can happen. The weirdest of all, being, that she was actually happy.
She wasn't just happy. She was thrilled.
The image of the blue-haired woman, balancing herself in that bathroom stall, dressed in black leather like a biker, looking as tough as...well, tougher than anything Augusta had ever seen with her own two eyes, was like some kind of fantasy. She kept going over and over it in her mind to make sure it had been real. Yes, it had been. Xanny was real. And she was following her, trying to save her.
Of course, Xanny had seen right through her. Which was all the more impressive. No one had ever seen through her. She'd been hiding things all her life, first from her parents, then from Aunt Anette, and finally from Marcos, who was supposed to be the love of her life. Maybe at one time he had been. She was rather impressed that he'd gone to such lengths to get her back. She even entertained the silly little fantasy that maybe he was even traveling with them, waiting with them for the right opportunity.
She turned over, as much to shake her thoughts of him as her guilt. She found herself facing Seth, who was sitting on her bed, legs stretched out before him, watching her. She jumped a little, causing a vibration in the mattress.
"I thought you were awake," he said, his voice a murmur.
She lifted her head, only a little. "What are you doing?" she asked.
He didn't answer. She sighed deeply, put her head back down, shut her eyes. What in the hell had she done to herself? Was this never going to be over? And worst of all, did she want it to be?
Finally, his voice came at her again, still the same, low, growling tone. From in the back of his throat, where all his passion seemed to live, just waiting for him to shout it out. "I don't buy what you said before."
It would be silly to pretend to think about what he meant---she already knew. "Seth," she whispered, "don't you think it's a little wrong to get all involved with your hostage? I was trying to let you off the hook---I suggest you take the opportunity."
He looked away from her, stung. She was right, he knew she was right, she could read it in the lines of his face. "I know, it goes against every instinct I have," he admitted, recovering. "But things like this...no one can predict when they're going to happen, or how."
Pressing her cheek harder into the pillow, just to make sure her voice, which felt like it was going to come out of her very loudly, wouldn't wake Ritchie---that was that last thing she needed---she said, "Don't do this, Seth."
"Why not?"
"Because it's stupid, and it's wrong. It's a mistake and you can't make a mistake like this, not and keep your neck out of a noose. Or however they're executing murderers these days."
He flinched. He didn't like that word, but knew it was the truth. Sure, he thought of it only as killing out of necessity, but in the process of breaking the law, it was very thin moral ice. Or just extremely cold water.
"It's just because of Xanny," she whispered, a bit more soothing.
He shook his head. "It's not because of Xanny." He looked at her, his dark eyes glowing at her with the reflecting streetlights outside. His arms were folded tightly around his chest, keeping himself from moving closer to her, but she could feel the intensity radiating from him like heat waves. "It's you."
"You don't know me," she said.
"We had this conversation before, didn't we?" He was almost smiling. "Or maybe I just had it with myself in my head. But you know that isn't true. I probably know you better than anyone ever has."
It was her turn to flinch. That was true---insane, but true.
"You can't hide things from me. You've been hiding everything from everyone all your life."
"Have you ever asked yourself why?" she said, a bit harshly.
He shook his head.
"Because no one cares about a little rich bitch, what she does or what she thinks. No one thinks we're good for anything but shopping and getting our hair done. So I decided a long time ago that I didn't care what anyone thought, and wasn't going to give anyone the opportunity to make me."
"Even your own family?"
She snorted. "Aunt Anette has rose-colored glasses when it comes to me. Nothing I say or do would change how much she adores me, plus she needs my money to keep living comfortably. And my parents?" Suddenly, her throat started to close. "My parents are dead."
There was a heavy silence. "Mine, too."
"So you know what I'm talking about."
"Sort of...I don't think I had quite the relationship with mine that you might have had with yours."
"My parents were sort of obsessed with finding my long lost twin." Then she bit her
tongue, realizing she'd said too much. Seth's eyes widened.
"Twin?"
"Long story."
"Tell me."
"No. I don't like to talk about it. It's too painful." Half-truth. Seeing Xanny earlier that day...oh hell, Xanny was the last living relative she had outside of Aunt Anette. Why did that thought fill her with a strange new hope? By all psychological rights, she should have hated Xanny for always being a ghost in her way, between her and her parents. She knew it was painful for them to look at her face every day and wonder about the child they had lost. But her parents had loved her. She knew that. Maybe having Xanny in her life was some twisted way of getting her parents back, or putting their ghosts to rest, the cries of whom she'd been ignoring all these years. Find your sister, Augusta. Find her.
Her prolonged silence seemed to be enough to cover up the part she wasn't telling. He didn't press.
"So you really want to leave things alone?" he asked.
"What else is there to do?" she sighed.
"You'd be surprised."
He was grinning.
"Seth? What is it?"
"Well...the money is yours, isn't it? We could all go to Mexico together, you could transfer your funds down there, even bring down Aunt Anette if you want. No one at home has to know about me or Ritchie. We'll go incognito."
"And live happily ever after?" Augusta asked, her voice slightly scathing.
"It was a thought."
"I'm surprised at you...entertaining fantasies like that."
Now she'd finally hit a nerve. He looked away, his chin dropping. "Yeah," he said, his legs sliding off the bed. "I guess I was being pretty ridiculous. Don't worry, it won't happen again."
%%%%%%%%%%
"Carl. Wake up."
He stirred, turned over. Xanny had flipped on the light, it made him wince.
"What?" he murmured, the whiny voice of someone stirring from sleep.
"Wake up, Carl. I have to talk to you."
Carl raised his head and saw Xanny sitting on the bed across from him. Her face looked a little puffy, her eyes red. "You okay?" he asked as he pulled himself up on one elbow.
"Fine. How about you? Think of anything?"
"I couldn't clear my head out to think it all the way through. I thought a nap might help. Sometimes things come to me right when I wake up."
"Anything come to you?"
"No." He looked troubled, even apologetic. "Nothing. These two bastards are just too slippery. If a whole flock of policemen can't catch them, if they can rob a bank in broad daylight and get away, what chance do we have?"
"A big one, actually," Xanny said. "I have an idea."
"What?"
"It's dangerous, though. For me. You're not going to like it."
"Tell me."
"I'm going to go talk to them."
"To...."
"The Geckos."
"You are certifiably-"
"Carl, listen. You know the sperm stains? You were right, Seth and Augusta are sleeping together. I don't know if they still are, but they were. Which gives us a major advantage."
"And that would be?"
"He isn't going to hurt her."
"You don't know that."
"I know that," she stressed. "He isn't. The cops don't know it and I doubt they'd believe it if we told them, but it's the truth. They aren't going to hurt Augusta. She's as safe as if she were back at home with her auntie and fiancée."
Carl made a noise in the back of his throat and rolled his eyes, to which Xanny replied with a faintly amused smile.
"I'm going to go talk to them."
"Won't that cause problems of its own?"
She shook her head. "Seth won't hurt me, either. He may be a criminal, and a bastard, but he's not a fucking bastard. He'd never even slap a woman if he didn't absolutely have to."
"What makes you so sure? I mean, after Ritchie's strange little habits..."
"That's exactly why Seth wouldn't do it. Deep down, he knows how fucked up Ritchie is. He has to, by now. He just can't deal with it. Which is why he'd never come close to imitating it."
"But going to go and talk to them...God, I don't know..."
"It'll throw them off. But I'm not a threat to them. At least, they don't think I am. And my only purpose will be to get Augusta out. Then the police can chase them all the way down to Mexico, I don't care. That isn't our job. We were hired to recover Augusta, and that's exactly what we're going to do."
"I have to think about it, Xanny," Carl said, all seriousness. "Really."
"How long?"
"Give me an hour, okay? You promise me you won't do anything for another hour."
"I promise, but if they move again, which is possible, they can move pretty suddenly at times if they even suspect their cover has been blown, I'm going to follow. And then I'll do what I have to do."
"Fine. Just cool your heels until then. Okay?"
She got up, flashed him a thumbs-up, and left the bedroom.
"We were in the midst of a heist---Seth and Ritchie had just taken to starting to rob banks. Before that, Seth was trying his hand at being a cat burglar, but it wasn't working out too well. He didn't really have the sophistication. Then they were knocking over convenience stores and liquor stores and even fast food restaurants, and then they were breaking into ATM machines, but nothing gave the same rush as holding up a bank. I was the bait, the one who went into the bank, looking rather normal and pretty and distracting the bank officers. Then Seth and Ritchie would step in and all hell would break loose. I even shot a bank officer once or twice in my time, but I never tried to kill them. Seth always told me I was too soft, but he didn't seem to care too much so I didn't push my luck.
"Anyway, the problem with holding up banks was always the getaway. As soon as you left, they were chasing your ass up the street. So Seth got the idea of taking a hostage. The first few times, it went off without a hitch---we kicked him or her out somewhere on the street and took off. No one followed us because Seth threatened to shoot the hostage if he saw a single siren on his tail. But it got more and more complicated and we were keeping the hostages for longer and longer. And Ritchie---well, I had an idea at the time that he was up to something on the side, but I didn't know what it was. He'd been charged with sex offence way back in high school, and he was pretty good at hiding his continued activities from Seth. Usually it was either prostitutes or women who were unlucky enough to be walking down the street in his vicinity at too late of an hour.
"So we started keeping hostages for longer and longer. The police were getting hungrier and hungrier to catch us, and we'd been in more than a few shootouts. The hostages turned out to be extra insurance in case the cops showed up, kept us from getting killed. Well, one time, my last time with them, we had this woman. Her name was Rebecca. She was like one of those soccer moms, very normal looking, JC Penny's casual wear, graying hair, one of those big handbags full of stuff. We stole her SUV in the getaway and she was still inside it, so Seth said we were going to take her.
"We holed up in this hotel, it was called Avalanche Inn, sort of run down, like most places. Seth wanted to unload the SUV as soon as possible, so he took off with it to trade it in with a friend he knew, who was pretty good at fencing stolen cars, breaking them into little pieces and selling the parts. While we were waiting for him to come back, I got to know Rebecca a little bit. She claimed to have a headache. She said she had a heart condition, that sometimes she got blood clots, and that she was on a regular dose of aspirin. So I thought it would be a good idea to get her some aspiring in case she had any problems, as I didn't want he to die on us. Ritchie refused to go. We didn't get along too well and he wasn't going to do anything I suggested, so it was a lost cause. So I went to the main office and asked them if they had any aspiring for sale. I wound up on a bit of a chase, finally wound up walking down the road to a gas station that had like one bottle left. I kept thinking how lucky I was. I was actually proud of myself, like I'd done a little good deed. I was amazed at how it felt. It was such a stupid little thing, and yet it was something important to someone."
Then Xanny paused. Marcos could tell from the look on her face that the next part was extremely painful to remember.
"When I got back, Ritchie had been..." She turned white, then green. The memory was still sickening, even after all these years. "There was blood everywhere." She sighed deeply, pulling herself together. "I was so upset. I started screaming at Ritchie, and he threatened to shoot me, too, and I remember I punched him in the nose, nearly broke it. I knew how upset Seth was going to be when he came back, so we cleaned it up, and Ritchie told him the hostage got away. Seth was so pissed...I don't think I've ever seen him that pissed. He made us move right then, drive two or three hours over to the next town so the woman couldn't lead the police back to us. I didn't tell Seth the truth until about four in the morning, when my watch was over and his watch started. And he didn't believe me. He said I was trying to cover for screwing up, trying to blame Ritchie. I was so mad at him, even a few days later, when he tried to get all amorous with me, I wouldn't let him touch me.
"I kept that woman's bag---no one saw me do it, and it was easy. I remember the first night, during my watch, looking through her stuff...at the pictures of her kids...and how their mother wasn't going to ever come home again, wasn't going to be able to take them anywhere, see their dance recitals, cheer at their football games. And I started to cry so hard I had to stop myself by smothering my face in a pillow before I woke the boys up."
She took another breath, her throat closing with the emotion of the memory. "I don't know why I cared so much, you know? I mean, I knew nothing about a normal childhood. I think it was that one of her daughters, the oldest one, was named Alexandra. There was a high school picture in her wallet. The nickname 'Xanny' was written on the back. It's the only time in my life I've ever seen anybody with that nickname other than me. It just all sort of hit me at once.
"When we moved on, things weren't the same. Seth was mad at me all the time because I wouldn't talk to them, either one of them, and I kept sneaking away every chance I got. He even thought I'd called the police on them."
"Did you?" Marcos whispered.
She took a deep breath, shuddered. "Yes. But it wasn't like Seth to think that sort of thing of me. It wasn't like me. He'd always trusted me and I'd always kept that trust. And then all of a sudden, Ritchie goes and fucks up and it's me he blames. We got cornered in a hotel room, Seth and Ritchie had made an escape route out on the roof and over into the woods, because the hotel walls weren't very thick and the ceiling was even worse. But I stayed."
"God, how Seth looked at me! He was all calm at first, telling me I was being ridiculous, that of course I was going, that he wasn't that mad at me, that it was okay that I'd lost a hostage, it happened to all newbies, etc. etc. He did everything he could to get me to climb up on that roof, and I wouldn't go. I told him to take the money, that we were even, I even swore I hadn't called the police, but I was staying, so that they could get away. He said that wasn't good enough. He even tried to drag me out with them, but I pulled a gun on him. He didn't buy it, so I threw down the gun and ran out the door. I barely kept from getting shot, but the police arrested me, and in the confusion Seth and Ritchie were able to get away."
She stopped. There was a heavy silence.
"I kept her pictures," she whispered. "Rebecca's pictures. In my jacket pocket. Every now and again, when I'm tempted back into my old life, I look at them." She paused, looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed, tired tears. "Want to see?"
"I'd love to," he said.
After she showed him, he held her as she cried.
%%%%%%%%%%
Augusta couldn't sleep---probably because of that huge nap she'd taken earlier. But her brain kept spinning over and over her conversation with Xanny.
Alexandra Wallace.
Her twin sister.
God, it was amazing. She'd never in her whole life told anyone about that missing twin thing. She sometimes had thought her parents were crazy for believing the whole thing, it sounded like a made-up story. The feature on Unsolved Mysteries only made it more corney. And when Mom and Dad had died, it made no difference to anyone, anymore.
It just went to prove that when you least expect it, the weirdest things can happen. The weirdest of all, being, that she was actually happy.
She wasn't just happy. She was thrilled.
The image of the blue-haired woman, balancing herself in that bathroom stall, dressed in black leather like a biker, looking as tough as...well, tougher than anything Augusta had ever seen with her own two eyes, was like some kind of fantasy. She kept going over and over it in her mind to make sure it had been real. Yes, it had been. Xanny was real. And she was following her, trying to save her.
Of course, Xanny had seen right through her. Which was all the more impressive. No one had ever seen through her. She'd been hiding things all her life, first from her parents, then from Aunt Anette, and finally from Marcos, who was supposed to be the love of her life. Maybe at one time he had been. She was rather impressed that he'd gone to such lengths to get her back. She even entertained the silly little fantasy that maybe he was even traveling with them, waiting with them for the right opportunity.
She turned over, as much to shake her thoughts of him as her guilt. She found herself facing Seth, who was sitting on her bed, legs stretched out before him, watching her. She jumped a little, causing a vibration in the mattress.
"I thought you were awake," he said, his voice a murmur.
She lifted her head, only a little. "What are you doing?" she asked.
He didn't answer. She sighed deeply, put her head back down, shut her eyes. What in the hell had she done to herself? Was this never going to be over? And worst of all, did she want it to be?
Finally, his voice came at her again, still the same, low, growling tone. From in the back of his throat, where all his passion seemed to live, just waiting for him to shout it out. "I don't buy what you said before."
It would be silly to pretend to think about what he meant---she already knew. "Seth," she whispered, "don't you think it's a little wrong to get all involved with your hostage? I was trying to let you off the hook---I suggest you take the opportunity."
He looked away from her, stung. She was right, he knew she was right, she could read it in the lines of his face. "I know, it goes against every instinct I have," he admitted, recovering. "But things like this...no one can predict when they're going to happen, or how."
Pressing her cheek harder into the pillow, just to make sure her voice, which felt like it was going to come out of her very loudly, wouldn't wake Ritchie---that was that last thing she needed---she said, "Don't do this, Seth."
"Why not?"
"Because it's stupid, and it's wrong. It's a mistake and you can't make a mistake like this, not and keep your neck out of a noose. Or however they're executing murderers these days."
He flinched. He didn't like that word, but knew it was the truth. Sure, he thought of it only as killing out of necessity, but in the process of breaking the law, it was very thin moral ice. Or just extremely cold water.
"It's just because of Xanny," she whispered, a bit more soothing.
He shook his head. "It's not because of Xanny." He looked at her, his dark eyes glowing at her with the reflecting streetlights outside. His arms were folded tightly around his chest, keeping himself from moving closer to her, but she could feel the intensity radiating from him like heat waves. "It's you."
"You don't know me," she said.
"We had this conversation before, didn't we?" He was almost smiling. "Or maybe I just had it with myself in my head. But you know that isn't true. I probably know you better than anyone ever has."
It was her turn to flinch. That was true---insane, but true.
"You can't hide things from me. You've been hiding everything from everyone all your life."
"Have you ever asked yourself why?" she said, a bit harshly.
He shook his head.
"Because no one cares about a little rich bitch, what she does or what she thinks. No one thinks we're good for anything but shopping and getting our hair done. So I decided a long time ago that I didn't care what anyone thought, and wasn't going to give anyone the opportunity to make me."
"Even your own family?"
She snorted. "Aunt Anette has rose-colored glasses when it comes to me. Nothing I say or do would change how much she adores me, plus she needs my money to keep living comfortably. And my parents?" Suddenly, her throat started to close. "My parents are dead."
There was a heavy silence. "Mine, too."
"So you know what I'm talking about."
"Sort of...I don't think I had quite the relationship with mine that you might have had with yours."
"My parents were sort of obsessed with finding my long lost twin." Then she bit her
tongue, realizing she'd said too much. Seth's eyes widened.
"Twin?"
"Long story."
"Tell me."
"No. I don't like to talk about it. It's too painful." Half-truth. Seeing Xanny earlier that day...oh hell, Xanny was the last living relative she had outside of Aunt Anette. Why did that thought fill her with a strange new hope? By all psychological rights, she should have hated Xanny for always being a ghost in her way, between her and her parents. She knew it was painful for them to look at her face every day and wonder about the child they had lost. But her parents had loved her. She knew that. Maybe having Xanny in her life was some twisted way of getting her parents back, or putting their ghosts to rest, the cries of whom she'd been ignoring all these years. Find your sister, Augusta. Find her.
Her prolonged silence seemed to be enough to cover up the part she wasn't telling. He didn't press.
"So you really want to leave things alone?" he asked.
"What else is there to do?" she sighed.
"You'd be surprised."
He was grinning.
"Seth? What is it?"
"Well...the money is yours, isn't it? We could all go to Mexico together, you could transfer your funds down there, even bring down Aunt Anette if you want. No one at home has to know about me or Ritchie. We'll go incognito."
"And live happily ever after?" Augusta asked, her voice slightly scathing.
"It was a thought."
"I'm surprised at you...entertaining fantasies like that."
Now she'd finally hit a nerve. He looked away, his chin dropping. "Yeah," he said, his legs sliding off the bed. "I guess I was being pretty ridiculous. Don't worry, it won't happen again."
%%%%%%%%%%
"Carl. Wake up."
He stirred, turned over. Xanny had flipped on the light, it made him wince.
"What?" he murmured, the whiny voice of someone stirring from sleep.
"Wake up, Carl. I have to talk to you."
Carl raised his head and saw Xanny sitting on the bed across from him. Her face looked a little puffy, her eyes red. "You okay?" he asked as he pulled himself up on one elbow.
"Fine. How about you? Think of anything?"
"I couldn't clear my head out to think it all the way through. I thought a nap might help. Sometimes things come to me right when I wake up."
"Anything come to you?"
"No." He looked troubled, even apologetic. "Nothing. These two bastards are just too slippery. If a whole flock of policemen can't catch them, if they can rob a bank in broad daylight and get away, what chance do we have?"
"A big one, actually," Xanny said. "I have an idea."
"What?"
"It's dangerous, though. For me. You're not going to like it."
"Tell me."
"I'm going to go talk to them."
"To...."
"The Geckos."
"You are certifiably-"
"Carl, listen. You know the sperm stains? You were right, Seth and Augusta are sleeping together. I don't know if they still are, but they were. Which gives us a major advantage."
"And that would be?"
"He isn't going to hurt her."
"You don't know that."
"I know that," she stressed. "He isn't. The cops don't know it and I doubt they'd believe it if we told them, but it's the truth. They aren't going to hurt Augusta. She's as safe as if she were back at home with her auntie and fiancée."
Carl made a noise in the back of his throat and rolled his eyes, to which Xanny replied with a faintly amused smile.
"I'm going to go talk to them."
"Won't that cause problems of its own?"
She shook her head. "Seth won't hurt me, either. He may be a criminal, and a bastard, but he's not a fucking bastard. He'd never even slap a woman if he didn't absolutely have to."
"What makes you so sure? I mean, after Ritchie's strange little habits..."
"That's exactly why Seth wouldn't do it. Deep down, he knows how fucked up Ritchie is. He has to, by now. He just can't deal with it. Which is why he'd never come close to imitating it."
"But going to go and talk to them...God, I don't know..."
"It'll throw them off. But I'm not a threat to them. At least, they don't think I am. And my only purpose will be to get Augusta out. Then the police can chase them all the way down to Mexico, I don't care. That isn't our job. We were hired to recover Augusta, and that's exactly what we're going to do."
"I have to think about it, Xanny," Carl said, all seriousness. "Really."
"How long?"
"Give me an hour, okay? You promise me you won't do anything for another hour."
"I promise, but if they move again, which is possible, they can move pretty suddenly at times if they even suspect their cover has been blown, I'm going to follow. And then I'll do what I have to do."
"Fine. Just cool your heels until then. Okay?"
She got up, flashed him a thumbs-up, and left the bedroom.