Right on schedule, Ernie Stark hopped onto his seat at the bar, his eyes eagerly searching for Sandra's attention. When she turned and saw him his heart leaped; her smile was like a blast of sunshine. She walked down the bar and stopped in front of him, one arm resting on the counter top.

"You are the most regular guy I've ever known. I could set my watch by you." Ernie blushed and shifted on the stool. "You want your usual or maybe something. different?"

The way she said it, Ernie felt his innards stir and his mouth went dry. "Wha- what's different? I mean, what do you mean- I mean."

"I just meant something else to drink for a change." She smiled and leaned her other arm on the bar and their faces came very close. "What did you think I meant?"

His face flamed and he watched amusement lines form at the corners of her eyes. "Nothing. I didn't- I only wondered."

Ernie turned to stone as she rested her fingers on his hand and squeezed lightly. "You're a nice guy, Ernie, somebody a girl could like to know better."

She knew his name! He sat, like an idiot, his mouth agape and his eyes locked to hers, listening to the words that had haunted his imagination ever since he'd first seen her, and he couldn't respond. It was like a breaker had blown and all his circuits were dead.

Sandra released his hand and straightened up. "I guess I was out of line--"

"No! No, you weren't." He finally found his voice, even if it did sound like Mickey Mouse. "I- I'm just surprised. I never thought you noticed."

"Oh, I noticed, Ernie. I can tell when a fella has an interest . . . and when the interest is mutual."

ööööö

Sandra towelled off and stood in the bathroom doorway of her apartment watching Ernie fumble his way into his clothes. She laughed to herself as she realized she hadn't needed to go this far, the guy would have licked hot asphalt out of her path for just holding her hand.

Now, she knew, he would do anything, anything she asked no matter what. The plan was taking form. Ernie slowly did up his shirt, his mind an explosion of light and colour. He found he had to breathe through his mouth to keep from hyperventilating. Nothing on earth could match the rapture he'd just experienced with Sandra, and to think it was her idea! He stood and tucked the shirt into his pants, turning to see her watching.

"Oh, I didn't know you were through."

Sandra let a corner of the towel go just enough to freeze poor Ernie once again. "Are you leaving?" She asked in a little girl voice.

"Huh?"

"Is that all it meant to you, A quick toss, Ernie?"

"Oh no!" He plunged across the room to her side. "No! God, Sandra, don't even think that. I just figured you would want me to go."

"After what we had, Ernie?" The towel fell between them, and he sucked in so much breath she had to pat him on the back. "Are you okay?"

Ernie looked at her with so much longing she almost felt a little frightened. Frankenstein would have envied the ease with which she had created this jellied mass. She led him to the bed and they sat, while Sandra planted the seeds of her idea between careful ministrations that kept Ernie as taught as a piano wire.

In less time than it took her hair to dry, Ernie was so on board and fully committed - to the death - a prospect she hoped would not occur. Sandra only had to point him, and he would have run into the sea without question.

ööööö

Ted listened on the phone to the description of the guy Sandra had found to do the robbery. He frowned as she described him as a Woody Allen-ish type, a dictionary definition of nerd.

"Are you sure about this guy, Sandra? This isn't some kid's game you know."

"Trust me, lover, little Ernie is my private kamikaze pilot, he'll do whatever I say."

"You sound as though you liked it." He said, rather peevishly. He might have suggested it, but he wasn't keen on the fact that she might have really enjoyed it.

"What's not to like? You seem to have a good time."

"Fine. Alright, let's just stick to business," he snapped. "I'm going to be at the Portsdown Inn. I don't have the room number yet, but I'll call you as soon as I find out. I'll be calling Gwen and telling her nine o'clock. Your man will have to be at the hotel to get this done around dinnertime in my room, and he needs to have the case back here to you by no later than midnight Friday."

"Why midnight?"

"Because that's as late as we can leave to give us time to drive to Whisper Cove." He smiled hearing her reaction.

"Whisper Cove? We're taking a boat?"

"It's all arranged. I rented a twin engine inboard with enough gas to get us many miles from here, and a destination drop-off so we can just walk away and get a car or catch a plane. whatever we want."

"Without a Trace."

"Exactly." Ted took a breath. "You are sure you can shake this guy after he gets back with the case?"

"I told you. Don't worry."

"I'll leave the rental papers and the keys with you just in case there's a hitch and we need to meet somewhere else. You know how to operate a boat, right?" He smiled again at her reply.

"Oh yes. No problem there." Sandra waited a beat and then asked, "What about your wife?"

"What about her?"

"Well, I mean- what's going to happen to her?"

"She and whoever she hires will be left holding no bag, and if we're lucky, the blame for the theft."

"You're okay with that?"

"Friggin' A, babe." Sandra held in her breath and said goodbye, then blew out a noisy curse at his duplicity.

Ted heaved a huge sigh and stared out his living room window.

"Who was on the phone?" Gwen came into the living room carrying a drink and a magazine.

He gave a small start. He thought she was upstairs in the shower. "I uh- just called and confirmed the tickets would be waiting. They're for the shuttle service. You can pick them up when you get there; we can choose a departure time when I get there. Our first leg will be an internal flight anyway; we can decide where to go from there. So what about you?"

"All I need is the time and the place."

"Really? Who did you get?"

"Yes really, and it's better if we keep all the information limited to need to know."

Ted crossed his arms and faced her. "Excuse me?"

"I'm serious. You want this to go off cleanly then let's be professional. I don't know all the details about Barry's money and I don't want to. That's your problem to take care of. My guy is mine." She settled on the couch and drew her feet up under her rump. "The less we each know the better our stories should anything go wrong."

He appraised her confident demeanour and reluctantly agreed. Gwen might be all fashion and glamour oriented but she also had a keen sense of what was practical. Probably why she stuck it out with him. He felt she always knew he was cheating, but she probably felt something was better than nothing.

"Okay, I see your point I'm going to have to call Barry as soon as it happens and depending on his reaction I may have to stick around to deal with the police, although I doubt he'll go that route, considering. Your man will have to be on site and ready to move at nine sharp. You've arranged for his delivery to you?"

"Of course." Her tone was insulting, and Ted relished the idea that she would be standing in an airport with no place to go and nobody to go with.

"Will he be a problem after he drops it off?"

"I told you, Ted, my guy is my problem, you worry about your end."

"Fine. As soon as I know I can leave I'll call and we'll meet at the airport. You bring a bag with whatever you can get away with and the briefcase, and I'll have my stuff from Portsdown."

"Where are we going, after the first flight I mean?"

"Where would you like?"

"I'll have to give that some thought."

"We might have to take whatever is available and fast." He kept his voice level.