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