While they waited for their drinks, Faith looked around the room.
Lee shot her a glance. "See anybody you recognize?"
"No. I never really went out when I came down here. I was afraid I'd run into someone I knew."
"Stay cool. You look very different from Faith Lockhart." He looked her over. "And I should have said this before, but you look really . . . well, you really look pretty tonight. I mean really fine." He suddenly looked embarrassed. "Not that you don't look good all the time. I meant ..." Thoroughly tongue-tied, Lee lapsed into silence, sat back and perused his menu.
Faith looked over at him, feeling just as awkward as he did, she was sure, but a smile still eased across her lips. "Thank you."
They were there for two pleasant stolen hours, discussing innocuous subjects, telling stories of times past and learning more about each other. Since it was the off-season and a weekday, there were few other patrons. They finished their meal, then had coffee and shared a thick slice of coconut cream pie. They paid in cash and left a very generous tip, which would probably make their waitress sing all the way home.
Faith and Lee walked slowly back, enjoying the crisp night air and digesting their meals. Instead of going to the house, though, Faith led Lee down to the beach after dropping her purse off by the back door of the beach house. She slipped off her sandals and they continued their stroll on the sand. It was completely dark now, the wind light and refreshing, and they had the beach entirely to themselves.
Lee looked over at her. "Going out was a good idea. I really enjoyed myself."
"You can be very charming when you want to be."
He looked annoyed for a moment until he realized she was kidding him. "I guess going out together made for a fresh start of sorts too."
"That did cross my mind." She stopped and sat down on the beach, sinking her feet into the sand. Lee remained standing, looking out to the ocean.
"So what do we do now, Lee?"
He sat next to her, slipped off his shoes and curled his toes under the sand. "It would be great if we could stay here, but I don't think we can."
"Then where? I'm fresh out of houses."
"I've been thinking about that. I've got some good buddies in San Diego. Private investigators like me. They know everybody. If I ask, I'm sure they'll help us slip across the border into Mexico."
Faith didn't look very enthusiastic about that idea. "Mexico? And from there?"
Lee shrugged. "I don't know. We can maybe get some fake documents and use them to get to South America."
"South America? And you work the cocaine fields while I labor in a brothel?"
"Look, I've been there. It's not just drugs and prostitutes. We'll have lots of options."
"Two fugitives from justice with God knows who else after them?" Faith looked down at the sand and shook her head doubtfully.
"If you have a better idea, I'm listening," said Lee.
"I've got money. A lot of it in a numbered account in Switzerland."
He looked skeptical. "They really have those things?"
"Oh, yes. And all those global conspiracies you've probably heard about? Secret organizations ruling the planet? Well, they're all true." She smiled and tossed sand on him.
"Well, if the Feds search your home or office, will they find records for it? If they know the account numbers, they can put a tag on it. Trace the money."
"The whole purpose of a Swiss numbered account is to ensure absolute confidentiality. If Swiss bankers ran around giving out that information to anyone who asked for it, their whole system sort of topples."
"The FBI isn't just anyone."
"Not to worry, I didn't keep any records. I have the access information with me."
Lee looked unconvinced. "So do you have to go to Switzerland to get the money? Because that would be, you know, sort of impossible."
"I went there to open the account. The bank appointed a fiduciary, a bank employee, with a power of attorney to handle the transaction in person. It's pretty elaborate. You have to show your access numbers, give positive ID, then provide your signature, which they compare with the one they have on file."
"So from then on you call the fiduciary and he does all that for you?"
"Right. I've done small transactions in the past, just to make sure it works. It's the same guy. He knows me and my voice. I give him the numbers and where I want the money to go. And it happens."
"You know you can't deposit it in Faith Lockhart's checking account."
"No, but I have a bank account down here under the name of SLC Corporation."
"And you're a signatory as an officer?"
"Yes, as Suzanne Blake."
"The problem is, the Feds know that name. Remember, from the airport."
"Do you know how many Suzanne Blakes there are in this country?"
Lee shrugged. "That's true."
"So at least we'll have money to live off. It won't last us forever, but it's something."
"Something is good."
They fell silent for a bit. Faith alternated between nervously looking at him and then out toward the ocean.
He glanced at her, having noticed her scrutiny. "What is it? Do I have coconut pie on my chin?"
"Lee, when the money comes, you can take half and leave. You don't have to come with me."
"Faith, we've already been through this."
"No, we haven't. I practically ordered you to come with me. I know it would be difficult to go back without me, but at least you'll have the money to go somewhere. Look, I can even call the FBI. I'll tell them you had no involvement. You were just blindly helping me. And that I gave you the slip. Then you can go back home."
"Thanks, Faith, but let's take it one step at a time. And I can't leave until I know you're safe."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm really sure. I won't go unless you tell me to. And then even if you do, I'll still stalk you, to make sure you're okay."
She reached out and took his arm. "Lee, I can never thank you enough for all you've done for me."
"Just consider me the big brother you never had."
The look they shared, though, held more than sibling affection. He looked down at the sand, trying to get his head straight. Faith looked back out at the water. When Lee looked over at her a minute later, Faith was moving her head from side to side and smiling.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
She stood and looked down at him. "I'm thinking that I'd like to dance."
He stared up at her in amazement. "Dancing? How much did you have to drink?"
"How many nights do we have left here? Two? Three? Then it's off to play fugitive for the rest of our lives? Come on, Lee, last chance to party." She slipped off her sweater and let it fall to the sand. The white dress had spaghetti straps. She slipped them off her shoulders, gave him a heart-stopping wink and held out her hands for Lee to take. "Let's go, big boy."
"You're crazy, you truly are." However, Lee gripped her hands and stood. "Fair warning, I haven't danced in a long time."
"You're a boxer, right? Your footwork is probably better than mine. I'll lead first, and then you take over."
Lee took a few halting steps and dropped his hands. "This is silly, Faith. What if somebody's watching? They'll think we're nuts."
She looked at him stubbornly. "I've spent the last fifteen years of my life worrying about what everybody thought about everything. So right now, I don't give a damn about what anybody thinks about anything."
"But we don't even have any music."