Eighteen: It's Never Over
"What do you mean, you can only get ten million?" Carl snapped. "You're a billionaire, can't you take out your own money without being asked a ton of stupid questions?"
"I can get the other ten, but it's going to take longer to clear than the twenty-four hour window they've given us," Marcos explained, pale and haggard as he was, attempting to control the situation.
"We only have until midnight tomorrow---"
"Let me explain to you how banks operate," Marcos snapped, stepping closer to Carl, who might have had a few inches of height on him, but his shoulder span was nothing compared to Marcos' natural width. "They only keep a certain amount of cash on hand. In order for me to get the first ten million, I have to special order it, because they'll have to clear out not only their own reserve but probably the reserves of another branch in town, without completely cutting off the cash flow to the common customer---which means we don't get all of it, just most of it. Which could mean more than just two banks having to chip in, like three, four or five. That means a lot of people get involved with this process. No, they don't ask too many questions if you're well-connected enough, but when you ask for another ten, which they have to request from more branches, or possibly go right to the mint for it, they raise a few eyebrows, and it tends to slow you down. I've got the first ten on its way already---but the other ten might be a little late."
"Fucking great," Carl spat. At that moment, Marcos' phone rang again. "Maybe that's good news," he said, although his tone said just the opposite.
"Marcos?" It was a very familiar voice, one he hadn't heard in too long.
"Xanny?"
"Tell Carl we're on our way home. Hey, you got that ten million?"
"It will be here in an hour," Marcos said. "The other half---"
"Forget about that. We're coming to you. Where are you?"
"Still in Oklahoma, at our hotel in Dixon. We haven't moved, in case you were able to get back."
"Well, I am, and Augusta is with me."
"What? How?"
Carl stepped closer. "Is that Xanny?"
"Yeah," Marcos said, stepping back. "Where are you?"
"In a car, on the highway. Don't worry, we're on our way to you. It'll probably be a while, though, five or six hours."
Marcos heard a male voice in the background. "Four. I like to go fast."
Xanny chuckled. "Who is that?" Marcos demanded.
"Don't worry about it, just have the money ready." Xanny's voice was light, he could tell that whatever had happened, she was obviously getting a kick out of it, so it couldn't be terribly serious. "You want to talk to Augusta?"
"Oh, yeah, please," Marcos said, blushing to think he hadn't asked it first. He heard the sound of the phone being passed.
"Hi Marcos," came Augusta's voice, sounding infinitely more tired than Xanny's. You guys okay? You get the money?"
"Half of it," Marcos said.
"Don't worry about it, babe, I'll cover it and pay you back. You know, I have to admit, I'm surprised you came along on this little rescue mission. We'll have to compare adventures when I get back."
"Augusta, are you sure this is you? You actually sound like you're in a good mood."
"Shut up. Call Auntie for me, okay? She'll want to know I'm all right. You didn't tell her about the ransom, did you?"
"Well, it was hard to keep from her completely, but I kept her as much in the dark as I could."
"Good. I don't want to have to hear about this from her. I'll talk to her when I have the energy." He could hear her smiling. "You want me to give the phone back to Xanny?"
"Um...well, I think Carl wants to talk to her."
"Okay." He heard the phone exchange hands again. He heard Xanny in the background say, "Me again? What's he want?" And Augusta gave some answer he couldn't quite make out. Then her voice, "Marcos? What's up?"
"Uh, Carl want to talk to you." Marcos shoved the phone at Carl, ignoring the funny look he got for it, and went to go lie down on the bed.
This was totally unbelievable.
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"Well, that's that," Xanny sighed, slapping the flip-phone shut. "All neat and tidy."
Augusta just nodded, feeling her eyelids weighed about ten pounds each. She wished she could just put her head back and close them, but didn't. She glanced at Salvador, wondered if she should have given Xanny shotgun. At the time it really hadn't seemed important.
"I really appreciate what you're doing," Augusta said to him, her tones low, confidential.
He shot a smile at her. He really was rather charming, in a Benjamin Bratt sort of way. If you went for that kind of thing. "Well, you are paying rather well for it."
"Yeah, I know." She looked at him, her doubt probably showing. She had gotten lazy at hiding things lately, knowing Seth wouldn't stand for it and get pissed at her, too. He met her gaze, knowingly.
"You know, I am considering what I'm doing for you as a favor, Miss Baxton," he said.
"You know who I am?" Although it hardly surprised her.
"Saw it all on the news," Salvador said. "Although I have to admit that I didn't quite make the connection to the boys I was chasing. Although I should have, duh, how many Gecko brothers are there in this world?"
"Too many," Augusta said with a smirk.
He nodded. "Well, I know who you are, Miss Baxton, and your fiancée, Mr. Ferarre. I sort of figured it might be nice to have you two owe me a favor."
"Not too big of a favor, I hope," she said, her stomach tightening.
"Don't worry, I promise not to get you sent to hell. Although you might have done that to yourself already."
Augusta blushed deeply. If she was that obvious, she was going to lock herself in her house for a month and see absolutely no one, especially anyone who even remotely resembled someone from the press.
"I just hope you'll remember my good deed sometime in the future," Salvador continued.
"I will," Augusta assured him, "but don't bother Marcos about it---Mr. Ferarre. It really isn't his problem."
"Isn't it?"
"No." She sighed, glanced at Xanny in the back seat, who was absorbed in her own thoughts as she watched the flying countryside. "Things aren't going to be the same when I get back," she said, more to herself than him.
"No, they aren't," Salvador said sympathetically. "Things like this are never over, not really. It changes you, I guess."
"You're pretty astute for a gangster," Augusta said with a smile. "Ever considered a career in psychology?"
"I do have my college degree," he said. "Psychology does pay pretty well, doesn't it? Charging people a hundred dollars an hour to tell them pure common sense. Hardly like working. Eh, I'm just keeping my dad happy for a while, until my older brother gets out and can take over again. Don't worry about it, Augusta, the ten million will probably be more than enough to keep everybody happy."
She nodded. "That's good to know." She leaned back, let out a deep sigh. "If you're ever looking for a job once you start up your psychology practice, give me a call."
"Bet on it," he said, with another charming smile.
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It was very late when they arrived back in Dixon, and Augusta was too zoned out to do much more than hand the briefcase over to Salvador, in spite of Marcos' puzzled objection.
"A reward," Xanny told him, "we arranged it."
"But who is he?" Marcos asked, looking at Salvador with suspicion, which the other man took in stride.
"A good friend," Augusta said. "Just trust me, Marcos. It's my money now, anyway." She gave Salvador the briefcase. "Thanks. My card is in the case."
Salvador took it, shook hands with her, and exchanged a more casual goodbye with Xanny, knocking fists together, before getting into his car and taking off.
"I don't believe this," Carl said. "Do you know what you just did?"
"Probably better than you," Augusta said to Carl, noticing him for the first time. She looked up at Marcos. "I want to go to bed. Now."
"Sure," Marcos said, putting an arm around her. "You want a shower first?"
"Bed. Alone." She pecked his cheek, went into the other room and pulled the door shut. The men turned and looked at Xanny.
"Stressful day," Xanny said. "I could really use that shower, though. And I'll share the room with her tonight. We'll go home first thing in the morning."
"Fine," Carl said, sitting down in one of the chairs in what had just become his room. "Whatever."
Xanny looked at Marcos, who had let Augusta go without any objection to her request. He looked back at her, smiling.
"Thank you," he said.
"No problem," she said, walking toward the same door. He stopped her before she could open it, his hand on her arm. "I promise I'll be quiet and not bother her," Xanny said.
"It's not that," Marcos said. "You know you're one of the family now, don't you? I mean, even though all of this is over, you don't have to leave."
"I'll talk to Augusta tomorrow, see what she wants to do---"
"What about you? What do you want to do?"
Xanny shrugged. "I can't say the money won't be nice, but I don't want to cause trouble. Marcos, it's too late and it's been too wild of a day---too wild of a couple of days---to talk about this. We can discuss it later, can't we?"
"Yeah." He bent down, pecked her cheek the way Augusta had pecked his, and then paused.
Their eyes met.
"You're not going to leave, are you?" Marcos whispered.
"Like I said, I'm going to talk to your fiancée," she whispered back, putting the stress on the last word as if to remind him of something. But she didn't pull away. They kept looking at each other.
Carl cleared his throat. They pulled back, startled. Xanny went into the other room. Marcos found himself yet again attempting to ignore Carl's looks. He decided to go to bed at that moment, as well.
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It was midnight, and they were still driving.
When Seth had opened the door to his hotel room, it had been in time to see Salvador's car disappear around the corner, and nearly trip on his own gun, which had been laid on the threshold of his door. Ritchie's as well. He picked them up quickly, brought them back inside, was impressed to find them both still loaded.
"So what are we going to do?" Ritchie asked.
"Get the hell out of here," Seth said. "Get the briefcase."
They got into their car and headed for the highway, west, in the opposite direction as Salvador's crew. Seth let Ritchie drive after they stopped for dinner, at some god-forsaken hole where only truckers and bikers hung out, which Seth rather liked for its depressing, dark atmosphere, but took back over again when Ritchie said he was tired and wanted to stop.
"Where are we going?"
"As far south as we can get, into Texas," Seth said.
The entire time, he'd been playing the events of the last several hours over and over in his head. The worst of it was not his confrontation with Xanny. In fact, that had explained so much, he hardly cared anymore. It was Augusta who was bugging him.
Augusta, who had paid ten million to a gangster to save his and Ritchie's life.
Augusta, who could have simply let Salvador and probably Xanny shoot them both without feeling any guilt, as she had been their hostage, after all, and fair was fair.
Augusta, who had said she wanted to give him a kiss goodbye, but had been unable to, given the circumstances. At least, that was how he'd heard it. Had he heard it wrong?
Bottom line, he felt depressed, humiliated, and nauseous. If he never looked at another woman again, it would be too soon. His pride told him he couldn't just let those girls walk out of his life, but something else, something he didn't recognize, but was, in actuality, his conscience, told him to let it go, that they were even, and all was right with the world again. And there was his common sense that said if he pushed his luck, that gangster, who was probably already annoyed at having to drive out so far to take care of business, was going to kill them. Mafia were so different than cops. Cops they could run from. Cops had rules and routines. Mafia were crazy bastards. If he'd known Teddy was connected to mafia, he probably would have done things a little differently. Like, not have shot him, just injured him a bit. Or a lot.
He'd gotten off lucky and he knew it. But that didn't make him feel better.
He knew what would make him feel better.
"Ritchie, how much do we have in that case?"
"About thirty."
"What if we tripled it?"
"What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking we rip Texas up one side and down the other. Take as many banks as we can before we head off into Mexico. What do you say?"
"It sounds a lot more fun than sitting around in hotel rooms holding girls hostage," Ritchie said with a smirk.
"Yeah, doesn't it?"
So that's what they did.
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Xanny felt like she had washed away the world when she took that shower. She hadn't realized how filthy she'd gotten, sliding down that ravine, and then being dragged up again. It felt like such a long time ago, but it hadn't been, not really. Maybe only yesterday afternoon. Who knew anymore?
She slipped into the oversize T-shirt she had packed and that thankfully Carl had dragged dutifully along with him as he followed her over the states. It felt so wonderful at that moment, like a baptism cloth. She pulled back the heavy covers and slid inside, settled herself, and reached over to turn off the light.
"He likes you, you know."
It was Augusta. She had apparently woken up, and while her voice was drowsy, her words were crystal clear.
"Who?"
"Marcos." Augusta opened her eyes and looked at her, smiling.
"Well, we have been in rather close quarters lately, and he's been very kind to me---"
"That's not what I mean." Augusta raised her head. "He likes you."
"I don't..."
"Likes you, likes you." She smirked. "Really, really likes you."
Xanny suddenly felt uncomfortable. "I'm...sorry?"
"Don't be," Augusta said, her smile widening. "Actually, it makes things easier."
"Easier?" She paused. "You're not going to---"
"I was going to before all this shit happened, I just didn't know how," Augusta said, sounding a little more awake. She let out a heavy sigh. "Marcos and I...we just don't connect. I mean, everything else is there, but we have no spark." She looked at Xanny. "I was in the room with you two five minutes and I saw spark."
"Well, having been around Seth for a while, you know what kind of man I'm used to. Marcos is a breath of fresh air."
"I know." Augusta was still smiling. "You know, I may give him the chance to break up with me first. Just to put your mind at ease."
"That's going to put my mind at ease?"
"Knowing you aren't a rebound, knowing he's not going for you because you have my face. I can see all of those thoughts in your head. He didn't get attached to you because of me, Xanny. I've known you twenty-four hours, maybe, and I already see how different we are. He's known you longer. And Marcos is one of those people who knows how he feels very quickly. He's probably worried about hurting me."
"Then maybe you should break up with him," Xanny suggested, feeling uneasy for saying it.
Augusta shrugged. "I'll work something out." She lay back down, pulling the covers more tightly around her. "You mad at me about Seth?"
"No." She didn't say it too fast or too slow, but felt it still wasn't enough. "I mean, yeah, I'm upset about everything, but about you sleeping with him? I feel sorry for you more than anything."
"Why? He was great."
Xanny nearly choked. "Yeah, well...he's not really a giver. Usually."
"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean he's not talented." Augusta shot her a sly smile. "You sure you aren't jealous?"
"I had all of that for six years. Remember, I left him."
"I know, but ex-girlfriends are always jealous."
"After everything, if I never see Seth Gecko again, I'll be perfectly happy."
"If you're sure."
"I'm sure. I'll tell you what. I'll trade you---Seth for Marcos. And we never have this conversation again."
"Sounds fair," Augusta said, although she sounded slightly sad. "Although you are getting the better of the deal, as you'll see your honey again."
"Marcos isn't my honey," Xanny said, frowning into the empty room.
"You know what I mean. No, Seth and Ritchie are off into the sunset, like Sisco and Sundance."
"Who?"
"I may be mixing up my legendary figures of the old west." She glanced at her. "Although you know we're going to talk about Seth and Marcos again, that's inevitable."
"Yeah, but not like we're guilty or anything. Towards each other, anyway."
"Okay, fair trade." She paused. "You think I'll see Seth again?"
"Augusta," Xanny said, trying to be gentle, "you really would be better off if you didn't. Not that he's so bad, I'm not saying that...but he's got Ritchie tagged to him. It's an Of Mice and Men complex. You get one, you get both."
"True." Augusta turned away. "Well, I guess I can still dream."
Xanny smiled as she turned off the light. "Be my guest," she said. And she promptly fell asleep. It was the most delightful, dreamless sleep she'd ever had.