Most of the night had been spent at police headquarters answering questions and getting Jessica's identity verified by emergency visits from senior officers. Art Estherhouse was in critical condition in the hospital, the bullet wound was simple enough to correct since it passed right through his cheek but the fall onto the table had been a damaging blow to his head and he was on emergency watch.

Carver was taken to his apartment to secure the emeralds, which were gone, and then away to someplace else for some serious questioning. Men from the Mountie's internal investigation department escorted Art's partner awayunceremoniously.

At the end of the inquisition, Jeff had been released, his story matched their surveillance reports and Jessica was permitted to leave to clean up and change clothes before reporting back to her office the following day. They grabbed a taxi and went back to Jeff's house where she tended to his sore back and made them both a light meal.

Jeff shifted the hot water bottle around to a new location on his back. The kidney punch had left him sore and aching. Jessica dabbed some ointment on one knee where she'd scraped it in the dive for the gun and then set about her feminine ritual of applying creams and lotions to her face and arms.

"No wonder you're so slippery," he teased.

"Keeps guys like you from getting too good a grasp."

"Guys like me?" He said, nonplussed. "Guys like me rarely get to do much grasping of younger women."

"That's a pity, granddad." She capped the bottle of lotion and carried it over to the counter. "You want some tea or something?"

"No thanks, I'm fine. I would like to hear a little about this Mountie business. I mean undercover and all."

"Is that a hint to go along with the grasping statement?" She waved off his blushing explanation. "Just joking, gramps."

"Is that necessary, the gramps bit?"

"Sorry." She came back and sat beside him on the sofa.

"I'd really rather not talk shop tonight, Jeff. Tomorrow I'll be right back in the thick of things and tonight is the only chance to shuck it all off and kick back."

He felt her snuggle into the cushions beside him and suddenly his back was the last thing on his mind. He tossed the hot water bottle on the coffee table and lifted one arm up behind her head. "If you want to sleep, go ahead but I'd like to know about the offers for running away to places warm and safe."

"Mmmm, not tonight." Her eyes had already closed and he felt her body relax against his then a few minutes later she was snoring softly.

********

Ralph sat on the edge of the motel bed and listened to the rings on the phone. No answer. He wondered if Orly was back in hospital since he wasn't at the store or if he was in too bad shape to answer at all. He considered calling Steinman but was nervous about the fact that the Mounties had him under surveillance. He hung up and dragged the small case across the bed and opened it up; the uncut emeralds looked like frozen Jello chunks and he lifted a small handful and let them fall back into the case.

The footstool in Carver's was a poor choice to hide something. Eight hundred grand for these meant that once they were cut and polished the value would represent millions of dollars to Steinman. Ralph looked in the other bag at the bills and sighed. There would be no going back to the store and he could forget his car.

What he needed was some way to get out of the town or even the country. First of all he had to deliver the emeralds to Steinman, he didn't want that man on his back. Second, he needed to get away somewhere somehow and for that he needed help.

********

It was night and a damp breeze swept along close to the ground as Orly was helped into the taxi outside the hospital by a clucking nurse who warned him about moving around so much in his condition. The bandage from his head had been removed and replaced with a butterfly patch, which made him less menacing than before, but the nose was now encased in a plaster mask with new tubes and fresh tape across his cheeks. His eyes were blacker and puffy and his lip was swollen on one side. Orly was not a pretty sight but he was mobile once again.

The cab dropped him two blocks from the store and he wandered around the blocks and laneways reconnoitering the area for any surveillance. He didn't know what happened at the airport or where anybody was but instinct told him that if Ralph wasn't at the store by now, something had changed.

He hurried back to the local cigar store and stepped into the phone booth at the back. He tried Ralph's cell but it was out of service and he tried Jessica's number, arguing with some flaky broad about flying and seat selections. In the past, Ralph and he had used different places around the city for their private meetings and to do deals. From his wallet he took out a slip of paper with several numbers and began calling them in turn.

The phone ringing nearly gave Ralph a heart attack. He sat up on the bed and stared at the machine as if was an alien object. The clock read three-fifteen in the morning. Nobody knew where he was and nobody would be calling... except Orly. He grabbed the receiver and mumbled hello.

"Ralph? Ralph, you there?"

"Orly? Jesus guy, where have you been? What happened? We are in some deep shit."

"I just got out of the hospital again."

What? I can't understand you, speak up."

"I said I just outta the goddamn hospital!"

"Oh, oh, well, you okay?"

"Yeah. Can I come over?"

"Huh? Oh yeah uh- no. I mean not directly. I'm hiding out so you gotta be real careful how you get here, okay?"

"Sure. See you soon."

"Huh?" The line was dead.

********

Jeff came back from the kitchen with two mugs of steaming coffee. Jessica was still sleeping on the sofa under the blanket he'd tossed over her the night before. He set the coffees on the table and jiggled her shoulder.

"Rise and shine, Madam Mountie."

Jessica grumbled something and twisted onto her back stretching her arms behind her head. "Whaaa ..."

"It's morning and you have to be at your office in less than two hours."

She squinted open an eye and aimed it at him. "I smell coffee."

"Right here." He picked up his and pointed at the other. She pulled herself up and yawned with another stretch then forced both eyes open, searching for the mug. Jeff sat down on the other side of the table and watched her.

Morning became her, he thought, poetically. The tousled hair, the sleep puffy lips and eyes, the sense of vulnerability that he knew was simply his imagination. Vulnerable women don't do undercover police work or shoot people in the face after wrestling the weapon away from them. She grinned and swept a strand of hair from her eye with her pinky.

"Nice. Thank you." She sipped again. "And thanks for the blanket." There was a tiny smirk playing about her mouth and Jeff felt his neck warm. "Last I remember we were both sitting here."

"My arm got sore." He looked into his mug and swirled the contents around. "I didn't want to try carrying you into the bedroom with my sore back so I slept in comfort and left you out here."

"Always the gentleman." She smiled in earnest. "Can I use your shower and maybe borrow a shirt or something.

The jeans will be okay but I need to at least rinse my undies and dump this top."

"I'll get you a towel and a shirt. You can toss the other stuff in the dryer, it should be ready by the time you shower. There's a hair dryer in the cupboard under the sink." He saw her grin and he instinctively brushed a hand over his thinning hair. "It's an old one." She laughed and got up to follow him to the bathroom.

Jeff stood by the clothes dryer as she strode boldly from the bathroom with the towel wrapped precariously about her.

"Here, I can do that for you, you- you get back in there and- and do- and shower." He was red and flustered and she was enjoying every minute. She held out her bra and panties and Jeff took them, holding them like they were alive and opened the dryer door.

Jessica laughed and stepped back into the bathroom.

They took a cab to Jessica's house, fortunately her ex roommates were both out, picked up her car and Jeff drove her to the R.C.M.P. offices. The building was a grey slab with little aesthetic merit, sitting on a busy corner of a busier intersection. Jeff stopped at the curb and they sat silent for a moment, unsure of the near future.

"Keep the car, I can grab a cab later."

"Or I could pick you up." He said hopefully.

"Okay then. I can drop you off at your place and carry on from there." She opened the door and climbed out.

He frowned. That didn't work out right. "What time," he called, leaning over the passenger seat.

"I'll call you. Oh, will you be home later?"

"Sure, I can do some more laundry." He plucked at his shirt indicating the one she'd left at his place. Jessica pursed her lips and her cheeks pinked.

"I'll call you then." She turned and walked with deliberation to the entrance.

He watched the jeans with a pang and kept watching long after she had vanished inside. The sound of a postal truck horn behind him jarred him back and he slid away from the curb carefully, visions of black lace behind his eyes.