I wondered if he was reassuring himself that the Lady wouldn’t bother to track him down for a measly fifteen grand she never needed to know about, or if he was disappointed that we hadn’t gotten more.

“Relax,” I said. “She’ll never know about it.”

“Did he give you any trouble?”

“He wanted to,” I said. “But no, no trouble. If I’d known it was going to be that easy, I would’ve suggested independent work years ago.”

“With Lou,” Jackal said.

I took a drink. I didn’t deny it. “If I’d known it was that easy.”

Jackal stared at his bottle. He stared at it for a long time, twirling it in his hands, the scar jumping and flexing. He kept it up so long I began to get uncomfortable, wondering what wheels could be turning in his brain, not liking having that question about him.

“I’m not going to ask you about it,” he said. “I want you to remember that after I leave, that I never asked you.”

“What could you possibly have to ask me about Lou?”

“About Ellen,” he clarified. “About exactly what happened that night.”

“What a hero you are. Isn’t this sort of like asking me?”

Jackal shrugged and took a swallow of the wine. Usually it was him watching me drink. Funny that I’d never noticed before. Funny that this was the way things would end.

I tried again to kiss him, and Jackal let me, but again he broke it. I stared at him. “You don’t want me? Now that you’ve seen me with Carrigan?”

Jackal closed his eyes and dropped his head onto the couch back. “It’s not that.”

“So what, then?”

Jackal’s leg jiggled against the cushions. “It’s not what I want to remember about you,” he said. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“The Lady would say you’re getting soft,” I teased, trying not to feel stung. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re leaving.”

Jackal winced, and I took another sip of my drink. Around us, my apartment was so empty. I thought that if I had plans to stay I’d have to decorate. But the new version of Jo, the one headed for a different country, different life, she’d decorate another apartment. She’d make a home somewhere else.

“Here’s some advice: drop the stuff about the Lady,” Jackal said. “We don’t know anything about her, only Lou. Don’t you think that’s odd? I’ve been thinking— Jo, I think—”

“Easy enough for you to say drop it,” I snapped. “If you’re smart, you’ll be in Mexico by sunrise and heading for Brazil in twelve hours. Finding some new rich woman to foot your bills.”

“You could’ve come,” Jackal said. “I wanted you to come. Didn’t I offer to let you come with me?”