“HERE—” POWERS TOOK A map of California from his inside pocket, unfolded it, refolded it once, twice, finally flattened it across his knees. He pointed. “There it is. Borrego Springs. She’s staying at a motel called the Ram’s Head.”
Dodge took the map, frowned as he studied it. “Is it a small town?”
“I think so,” Powers answered. As he spoke, he shifted uneasily in the chair. They were sitting in one of Los Angeles International’s concourses, two among thousands, a flux of humanity. If someone recognized him, saw him talking to this well-dressed black man, they would remember. “It’s in the desert, I think.” He frowned. “I should’ve gotten an atlas.”
“I’ll get one. Well—” He glanced at his watch, then looked expectantly at the other man. “I’d better split. What about meeting here, right here, same time, three days from now? That way, we won’t have to talk on the phone. If there’s any problem, any delay, I’ll have you paged here, at the airport, and we’ll talk then. Three days from now. Okay?”
“Yes. Fine.” He reached into another pocket, withdrew a plain white envelope. “Here’s the—” He licked his lips. “Here’s the first installment.”
“Thanks.” Dodge slipped the unopened envelope into his own pocket, and rose to his feet. He picked up his matched suitcases, nodded pleasantly, and walked briskly away. As Powers watched him go, he realized that he was beginning to tremble uncontrollably.