The library had been a brainstorm. From the tax roll records Elora found out the residence address of Hector Estavan and from that she was able to use the library's computer to dig up a phone number, a car license, including make and model, and a place of employment. Armed with her newly gained information she arranged for a car rental and bought a road map for the greater Buenos Aires region.

The Estavan home was north of the city in an area called Olivos, one of the wealthier districts in the Buenos Aires suburbs. Elora followed her map and after several false starts, found the area and the street of the Estavan home. She spotted the number on a gatepost that boasted two concrete lions raised up on their hind legs; it was a formidable entrance to the low, rambling stone and stucco structure nestled in a grove of trees well back from the street. Elora pulled up to the front of the home, parked and went up to the front door and rang the bell. A moment later a young servant girl came to the door and asked her business. Elora asked if Mr. Estavan was home and with a look of total confusion and annoyance was told that not a word she said was understood. The servant closed the door and left Elora holding a fading smile.

She climbed back in the car and drove back to her hotel. A different tack was required. She would try and locate him through his business and to that end she changed into her teddy, poured a glass of scotch and curled up on the sofa with the telephone. A pleasant woman answered her call, listened politely and advised her that Mr. Estavan had been out of the country and wasn't expected back until the next day. Elora knew why too, Miss Ebony Keyes. She said it was extremely important that she speak with him and to her never ending series of surprises, was given his cell phone number.

This called for another drink and she brought the bottle to the coffee table, got comfortable again and dialed.

*****

Ebony sat on the toilet holding her head. She couldn't remember ever having such a night before. Hector had returned from the washroom, gulped his meal and hurried them back to his room where he proceeded to put her through more hoops than the NBA. Her body ached from head to foot and she was exhausted but she was also tingling inside from a spate of multiple orgasms so much so that she could barely remember where or who she was. Hector had proven to be a marathoner of the highest proportion. The night just never ended for him and in the morning he had showered, shaved and gone off for a run around the district. Ebony could barely walk let alone go running. She had bravely waved goodbye before collapsing on the bed.

She hobbled into the shower and turned scalding water on her skin, suffering the delicious pain of its stinging. When Hector returned, beaming and glowing like a stoplight, she was resting in her robe in a chair by the balcony door.

"You should have come, Ebony, it was magnificent. The flowers, the smells. Exhilarating." He peeled off his clothes and left them in a pile by the bed. Ebony stared at the instrument that he'd used to tame her and she shuddered as he walked toward her, bending down and kissing her head.

"I'm going to shower. Afterwards we can go shopping if you like or down for some food or..." His smile stretched beyond his face and his eyebrows danced luridly.

"Shopping might be nice," she said weakly.

The phone rang and he grabbed it off the dresser on the way to the bathroom.

*****

Terry sat uncomfortably in front of the desk of the man he would be answering to. Dark tinted glasses. A drooping, ratty moustache and wings of grey and dark grey hair swept back along the side of a wide head and held in place with what looked like bacon fat.

La Librería de Argentine turned out to be the home of a tabloid aimed at a stratum of readers enraptured with massive breasts and huge lipsticked lips pouting grossly at the camera. The editing requirements he'd worried about consisted of actually being in the studio where the photos were taken and spraying body makeup over moles and bruises and any other blemishes—not that any amount of undercoating could disguise some of the potholes in the models. Terry was devastated. The publishing area of his job was to take the company van and deliver bundles of the magazines to various sex shops around the city. He couldn't believe what he'd signed up for.

Arturo Mendez, his boss, puffed on a smelly cigar and constantly blew his wide nose in a dark blue hanky. The moustache had to be wiped after each blow and Terry was grossing out as he waited for his instructions.

"You don't like this work, eh, senor?"

"It's not what I expected that's for sure."

"Money's good though, eh?"

"It's alright, nothing special."

"You want more?"

Terry was surprised and he nodded. "Sure, what the hell. I'm stuck with a three year contract anyway."

"You could walk away."

"With what? I get paid monthly remember?"

Arturo smiled. "It's how we keep the contract workable."

"So how much are we talking about?"

"Another hundred a week."

"Doing what?"

"Well no more spraying the girls for one thing. You'd be responsible for deliveries."

"I'm doing that now."

"Not magazines, my friend... women."

"Huh? Women? You mean like a chauffeur?"

Arturo laughed and blew his nose noisily then took a huge drag on his cigar. "Yes, senor, yes, a chauffeur."

"Maybe you better explain."

"I think so." He put his cigar down and opened a folder on his desk and handed a sheet across to Terry.

Terry read the information and stared up at Arturo. "You want me to deliver hookers to your clients?"

"Please... escorts for legitimate functions."

Terry looked back at the list and at his future for the next two years or so and he suddenly yearned for the life he had before this and Wilfred.

"Make it a hundred and fifty and I'll deliver your 'escorts'."

"Good man. Take that list to Raoul and get the car keys from him."

"Now! It's lunchtime. Who needs an escort for lunch?"

"Go, senor Terry. Don't keep Raoul waiting."

*****

"How did you get this number?"

"Doesn't matter. I did, that's what matters. Now di' ye ken what I'm saying?"

"Do I what?"

"Understand, man. Di' ye understand?"

"You're some kind of immigration officer and this Ebony Keyes is a fugitive?"

"Right. Now I need ye to carry on normally and keep her there until I can get there and place her under arrest."

"What about me, I don't want to be involved in any immigration business."

"Yew were never there. Ebony is the one we want."

"How long will you be?"

"I think I can be there in thair-r-r-ty minutes."

"What? How long?"

"Thairty minutes. Thairty. Good Christ, man."

He still wasn't sure but it sounded soon. "Okay, I'll keep her here."

"Bonny good, Mr. Estavan, my office appreciates yure cooperation."

Hector hung up and went back into the living room. "That was business, I won't be able to go shopping until they call back. Do you mind?"

"No, not at all." She was relieved not to have to move; she could just sit and relax.

"I won't be long." He went back into the bathroom and closed the door and dialed a number on his phone.

"Hector here. Am I still on your list for tonight?"

"Aah, Hector, good to hear from you. Of course you are, was there some question?"

"I might have been tied up but things are changing. How about an hour from now?"

"A rush job, eh? Well you know the rules, Hector. It will cost extra."

"Fine, just see that it is according to my usual specifications."

"Always, senor."

*****

Wilfred watched impressively, with rapt attention, as Darcy danced his way through the various sites and databases on the web. They sat in a cyber hut near the port, drinking coffee and electronically tracking the whereabouts of Jeantrine. The information from the hotel gave them the name of Hector Estavan and through him they found his address, telephone numbers, place of employment and the taxi log of his trip from the airport to his current location at the Costa de Playa Hotel

"Amazing, Darcy. Absolutely amazing."

"It's what I do."

"I don't suppose you can apply any magic that will net us some funds?"

"You mean until we get the sixty-seven million."

Wilfred laughed and nodded appreciably. "That would be nicer, old son."

"I've got a five thousand dollar line of credit on my card but I need at least half of that to get live, eat and get back home."

"That should be more than enough with the three thousand cash I have. I have to admit all that high living while we were chasing the trust pretty much depleted my funds. I cashed in a bond that I had to get this money; it really is all I have." Wilfred didn't mention that he'd skipped his bail.

"So what's the next move?"

"I guess we go to this Playa Hotel and confront Jeantrine."

"What if she doesn't have the money?"

"She has to have it, who else could?"

"Hoyte. Elora, Maybe even Aldridge."

Wilfred frowned. "We'll soon know."

*****

Hoyte sat up and held the paper so that he was hidden but could still keep an eye on Terry. His patience had paid off and now he was ready to follow Terry to the money. Terry left the hotel and climbed into a black Ford sedan that the valet had brought around, which surprised Hoyte. When did he get that? He hurried to the cabstand and told the driver to follow the Ford. The man giggled and watched Hoyte in the mirror.

"What?"

"Ees very much like an American movie, no?" he hunched over the wheel and altered his voice. "Follow that car!"

"Funny. Listen..." Hoyte looked at the photo ID on the back of the seat, "Juan. Jesus, you guys all have the same name down here. Listen. Just follow the car and don't let him make you, okay?"

"Si, senor. I am, Lobo, the silent hunter."

"Mother of God." Hoyte fell back on the seat and exhaled a groan.

The Ford raced through the city, swung onto a wider boulevard and finally turned up an alley and Hoyte told the cab to pull past and stop. He told him to wait as he climbed out and walked back to the alley. Terry was just going in a door in the grubby looking building at the very end and Hoyte hurried after him.

"Aah, Senor Terry!" Raoul was a tall skinny version of Colonel Saunders, white hair, beard and all. He held out his long, skinny arms and embraced Terry like a long lost relative. "Arturo told me about your promotion. Congratulations."

"Yeah, promotion."

"You will see." He waggled a bony finger. "The extras, Terry, the extras." The wink was lurid and delivered with all the drama of a silent film. He clapped his hand loudly and two young women strode out from another room, both looking boringly sultry, packing shoulder bags over their stretch tops. Even Terry had to stare; none of the women he sprayed even approached their proportions. They teetered forward on platform soles and stood in hot hooker poses, chewing gum and giving Terry the once over.

"Terry, meet Consuela and Maria."

"Pleasure," he droned.

"These ladies have an appointment at the Costa del Playa Hotel; I would like you to drive them there and wait for exactly two hours and then bring them home here."

"What do I do for two hours?"

"Whatever you like, Terry, just do not be one minute late picking them up."

"Can I be early?"

"No more than three minutes." Terry gaped because he was being sarcastic. "Here is a phone you will keep turned on at all times. When it rings you just open it and say nothing. Instructions will be passed to you and you will follow them without question. You have twenty-five minutes to get to the hotel." The woman strutted past and out the door to the alley where they climbed into the back of the car and both lit up cigarettes.

Hoyte pulled back from the doorway and waited until Terry had backed out into the street and then he ran back to his taxi with a repeat of his instructions. The cabbie giggled again and made a screeching u-turn, following the car with humorous exaggeration.

*****

Elora arrived at the hotel and went straight to the desk and asked them to call up and announce her. Hector answered and gave permission. Elora fairly raced to the elevator. A moment later Darcy and Wilfred entered the lobby and sauntered around, devising a plan for finding the room number of Hector Estavan. The car pulled up to the side door of the hotel and Terry opened the door for the two women.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said as they waddled past and in the fire exit.

"We might as well get back in the car," Maria said.

"We can find out his repertoire later, "Consuela said. She winked a foot long lash and blew him a kiss that he swore actually landed on his face.

He checked the time and set the dash clock alarm for two hours. An innovation Raoul devised sounded the car horn if the driver wasn't in it at the time. He wandered out to the street and looked about for something to do.

*****

Hector answered the door and with a hiking of eyebrows, welcomed Elora into the room. She glanced about and saw that it was empty.

"Where is Miss Keyes?"

"Aah, Miss Keyes is indisposed at the moment, senorita. Please, have a seat."

"I di' nae come to take a seat, laddie, I came for Miss Keyes."

Hector grinned widely. "I adore that accent, senorita. It stirs the blood." He flashed his eyes and showed his teeth. This was a very pleasing surprise, he thought, taking in the skirt and heels.

"Where is Ebony Keyes?"

The knock at the door distracted them and Hector glanced at his watch and frowned as he answered. The two women swished into the room, cast a curious glance at Elora and continued to the bedroom. A second later Maria came back, hands on ample hips and a pout on her overly made up face.

"What's going on here, Hector? Who are these women?"

"Women!" Elora stood and strode to the bedroom.

Ebony sat on the edge of the bed with a robe over her shoulders. Her eyes were dull and she looked drugged. Elora went to her and took her hand.

"Jeantrine? Jeantrine can you hear me?"

"What's going on here, Hector?" Consuela scolded. "We had a private appointment.

"We can all get along I'm sure, just everyone settle down." He entered the bedroom, edging Maria and Consuela ahead of him.

"Is she drugged?" Elora turned on Hector.

"Only with the aphrodisiac of love, senorita." Hector closed the bedroom door and held out his arms. "I am yours willingly with more than enough for all." He undid his pants and let them fall to his ankles.

"Same old Hector." Maria sighed.

"Used merchandise, Hector." Consuela taunted.

"Poot that away before I rip it off!" Elora moved toward him. Hector grinned and held his arms out proudly at his side.

The kick caused the two escorts to scream in shock, matched only by Hector's tenor wail as he crumpled, his blood draining from his face like ebb tide. A pounding on the hotel room door sent Maria running to answer and as she threw open the door, Darcy burst in looking about wildly.

"Who screamed?" he shouted, stopping suddenly to take in the astonishing proportions of the woman gaping at him. Wilfred bumped into him from behind and they collided with Maria.

"Oh my God, I think I'm in love." Darcy exclaimed, grappling with Maria.

"Who screamed?" Wilfred asked, eyeing the woman and then hurrying to the bedroom.

Wilfred stuttered to a stop in the doorway, his eyes flitting from the writhing man on the floor to the enormously endowed woman covering her ears to the most stunning revelation of all—Elora and Jeantrine. When he recovered he took the escort by the arm and led her out of the room and then returned and shut the door.

"Well isn't this a coincidence? The two schemers caught in a tawdry scene of decadent activities. Is this how you're spending the money you stole from me?"

Hector cried out and Wilfred grabbed a blanket from the bed and tossed it over him.

"Stole from yew?" Elora snorted a harsh laugh. "It was yew doin' the stealin', laddie."

"Really, and just what were you two planning all that while?" He pushed a hand at her. "Never mind, I know what happened. All I want is my share and I think we can all sit down and negotiate that."

"How considerate," Elora snarked. "First we have to find out where she put it."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Ebony here. She's got the money nae me."

"Ebony has the money?"

"Well if I had it I wo' nae be in this joint wi' a bunch of raving perverts."

"I don't have any money." Ebony spoke up with a sleepy voice. "I thought I had it but after I got on the plane I discovered that the transfer never happened."

"You were going to fleece me." Wilfred said.

"It seemed so easy to do at the time."

"Wait a minute. Yew tried an intercept for yureself? Yew were cheating me too?"

"It seems like we were all in this just for ourselves," Wilfred said. "Even Darcy out there tried and failed."

"Darcy's here too!" Elora pulled at her lower lip. "I uh- I thought I had made the switch wi' Hoyte Boorland." Elora confessed.

"So where the hell did it all go? Jesus, sixty-seven million dollars just floating around in space?"

"Hoyte must have it." Elora said.

"That's what Darcy thinks too."

"How do you know that?"

"I told you, he's in the next room; he's the one that tracked Ebony down to this place." Wilfred went to the door and opened it. "Darcy come in he—holy shit!"

"What, what's wrong?"

Elora ran to the door and Ebony stood and wobbled after her. Darcy was on the back of the sofa bouncing between the two escorts who had stripped down to just heels and garters. His hat was jammed down over his ears and he was wearing the silliest smile they'd ever seen and kept muttering something about paradise.

"Hey! Knock it off! Darcy get your clothes on and shape up; we've got serious business to take care of." Wilfred gathered the women's clothes and shoved them both into the bedroom with Hector who had just managed to crawl from under the blanket. Wilfred slammed the door and shut them in.

"We've still got twenty minutes," Marie said looking at her watch.

"Well it is Hector's account, we should see that he gets something for his money." Consuela added, helping the whimpering Hector to the bed.

He looked helplessly up at the two women and began shaking his head, "No! No! Please! I can't!"