FORTY-EIGHT

Shit. You ripped the goddamn skin off my lips,’ were Lacotta’s first words after Mace pulled the tape from his mouth.

‘Get a chap stick,’ Angela told him, walking away.

Lacotta wiggled his freed fingers. ‘Oh, man, got those little needle pains.’

Mace handed him Drier’s knife and suggested he use his needle-pained fingers to cut the tape from his ankles. He approached Angela who was kneeling beside the now-silent Timmie, checking for signs of life.

She stood, looked at Mace and said, ‘Dead as Hillary’s dream.’

He shook his head in wonder. ‘You may be the greatest actress I’ve ever seen.’

‘Better than Heather Locklear? I always figured if I could achieve that . . .’

‘You were way beyond her last night,’ Mace said.

She gave him a half-smile. ‘Suppose I said I wasn’t acting then? Where would that leave us? The agent and the ex-con. Tune in next week for more hilarious adventures.’

‘Might be a long-running hit.’

‘Wouldn’t last even a mini season,’ she said.

‘Hey, Cisco,’ Paulie called out, ‘let’s went.’

‘Good plan,’ Angela said.

‘I get the deal about you following the formula,’ he said. ‘That explains your hooking up with Paulie and Tiny and Abe. And me.’

‘I didn’t fuck them,’ she said. She began walking him to the exit, where Paulie was waiting impatiently.

‘Good to know,’ he said. ‘But my question is: if Monte wasn’t a major player in—’

‘What’s your thing with Monte? He was just a bankroller Corrigan hoped to use if we got our hands on the formula. An afterthought.’

‘That being the case,’ Mace said, ‘why were you hanging out with him?’

Her smile was patronizing. ‘You may find this hard to believe, but sometimes our caseload includes two, even three, separate jobs. Monte is . . . ass-deep in negotiations with certain Chinese businessmen. We are interested.’

‘Then you’re still . . .’

‘His main squeeze? Yep. That’s me.’

‘Won’t he be pissed off about last night?’

‘Pissed off? Yes. But more interested than ever. He’s left dozens of phone and text messages for me. He’s a guy who likes to win. Don’t you know anything about men, either?’

‘Not Monte’s kind,’ he said as they reached the exit.

‘He’s a job,’ she said. ‘Easier than most. It’s what I do. If the agency ordered me to get close to Al-Zawahiri, I’d give it a shot.’

‘I sure never figured you for a spook, Angie,’ Lacotta said.

‘Are you asking me to kill you?’ she said.

He held up a halting hand.

‘You should leave,’ she said. She tapped her right ear where a tiny shard of clear plastic was not quite hidden. ‘My crew picked up Sweets on Mulholland about a half hour ago. They’ll be here any minute now.’

‘I don’t suppose they, uh, cleaned up my place while they were there?’ Paulie asked.

‘We claim our own,’ she said. ‘Unlike some.’

‘So long, Angie,’ Lacotta said, heading out. ‘It’s been fun. Not.’

‘Before I go . . .’ Mace began, but she put a finger to his lips.

He removed her finger. ‘Before I go,’ he began again, ‘I left the Sig Sauer on the table. I’d appreciate it if you’d give it a wipe. You might want to stick it in Corrigan’s hand. It belongs to him.’

‘I was expecting sweet talk,’ she said.

‘OK. Then here’s a little: I’m going to steal your car for a few hours. Paulie will get it back to you.’

She moved against him, stood on her toes and kissed him.

It was a good kiss, as farewell kisses go. More than he’d expected.