Free Short Straw by Stuart Woods Page A

fee.”
    “I’d like to work it off, or pay you overtime,” Big Bear said.
    “There’s an easier way,” Eagle said. “Do you own a gun?”
    “Yessir, I’ve got a shotgun—or at least the police have it—and I’ve got a handgun under the seat of my truck.”
    “This hired killer you told me about is getting out of jail at ten o’clock tomorrow morning, right?”
    “That’s what he said.”
    “And he’s going to meet this woman in the parking lot who’s going to give him some money?”
    “That’s right.”
    “After that’s done, I’d like you to meet this gentleman and persuade him not to carry out his contract. You think you can do that?”
    “One way or another.”
    “Joe, I don’t want you to commit any crimes in the process; we just got you out. Now let’s keep you out, all right?”
    “I got you, Mr. Eagle.”
    “I wanted to know if you had the gun only for purposes of self-defense.”
    “I understand.”
    “Then I want you to ask this fellow who it was who hired him and when he’s getting out, and when he does, I want you to have a similar conversation with him. Tell him he can keep the money, because my wife isn’t coming back to Santa Fe. In both cases, you can use the threat of calling the police on them, since you overheard their conversation.”
    “I understand.”
    Eagle pressed five one-hundred-dollar bills into Big Bear’s hand. “This will cover your expenses, including cab fare back to your truck. Keep me posted on your progress, will you?”
    “Yessir.”
    “When this is done, you won’t owe me a dime.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Eagle.”
    Eagle shook his hand and left the courthouse, relieved that the situation had been taken care of.

Eighteen
    C UPIE AND VITTORIO LANDED AT ACAPULCO AND WENT to the airport car rental counter. The only thing available was a huge Toyota 4Runner.
    “I hate cars this big,” Cupie said, hoisting himself into the front passenger seat.
    “Truck,” Vittorio replied.
    “Whatever. How do we know Barbara is really on her way to Acapulco?” Cupie was flexing his left shoulder.
    “The woman knows nothing about Mexico,” Vittorio said, “just the hot spots. Eagle said Puerto Vallarta was the only place here she’d ever been, but she’s heard of Acapulco, and since we’ve got her clothes, she needs a place with fancy shops. I think this is where we’ll find her.”
    “Good point. Let’s make the rounds of a few hotels and buy some desk clerks, so we’ll get a call when she checks in.” Cupie took off his sling and flexed his shoulder some more.
    “How’s the shoulder?” Vittorio asked.
    “Better,” Cupie replied. “I need to stretch it some, so I’m ditching the sling. I also need a suit without a bullet hole in it. The hotel in Mexico city sent it to the cleaners, but they didn’t fix the hole.”
    Their first stop was the Acapulco Princess, in one of whose shops Cupie found a seersucker suit and waited while the trouser bottoms were hemmed. Then they continued to another few likely hotels, leaving a trail of Ed Eagle’s hundred-dollar bills.
    “I just thought of something,” Cupie said.
    “What?”
    “If somebody at Barbara’s bank made a call to the kidnappers about her three hundred grand, I’ll bet the same party has already made another call. I mean, she’s still got the three hundred grand, and she doesn’t even have to get it out of the bank; all she has to do is countersign the traveler’s checks, and the kidnappers can probably persuade her to do that.”
    “She’ll probably sign them Minnie Mouse,” Vittorio said drily. “And they don’t know where she is.”
    “If you figured out where she went, so can the kidnappers. Three hundred grand is a great incentive not to give up.”
    “In that case,” Vittorio said, “they’re probably only an hour or two behind her, maybe less.”
    “A scary thought,” Cupie said. “Maybe it will scare her when we tell her.” He studied the map the rental car agent had