Jules laughed lightly when she gently poked him by the shoulder. “But I think you’d better wash up first, Tom.  You can’t show up in the police station as dirty as he is and claim that you just came across him!”

Tom laughed in return, and nodded ruefully. “I’ll go check myself into one of the roadside inns by the freeway, take a shower, change, and then take this dude to the next town over.”

So Bette and Jules helped Tom load the man into the back seat of the Lambo, because the trunk had been too small to hold a man his size. To make sure he wouldn’t cause any trouble, they used the two seatbelts to fashion a harness around his arms and legs and to secure him to the backseat, and then threw a blanket over him.

Then they all trekked back to the truck. They were tired, sweaty, and dirty from work hauling the gold through the tunnels and fixing these in the trailer, and then carrying the man to the car, but Tom leaned over to give Bette a quick kiss goodbye on the cheek, nevertheless, and opened his arms to give her a hug.  He worried that she hadn’t been able to get past the anxiety of the attack on her earlier, and only adrenaline was keeping her going now.

Bette allowed him to hug her, appreciating the considerate gesture. Apart from drawing comfort from the embrace, she thought that, unlike the man earlier, even though Tom was grimy from sweat and dirt, he still smelt clean and fresh.  She felt grateful he and Jules had been around, after all, to help her tonight.

“If I can hazard a guess this has partly to do with your work with mom, right?” he asked gently as he stepped back.

She nodded, but said nothing further, and then mouthed her thanks for the friendly embrace and help tonight.

He smiled and gripped her shoulders. Even in the moonlight he seemed pale, eyes even more sunken, Bette thought.  He was asking her, “You’ll tell me one day what this is all about?”

She shrugged. “I really hope I can.  One day.”

And then she added, “But for what it’s worth, I think all our work today will go a long way to justify your mom’s sacrifice.” She was also about to share with him her theory that Sylvia’s death had been caused by the vicious band of agents and their leader who had served as “dark hands” of those who had been chasing the gold.  Peter’s UK contact had confirmed as much.  But something told her not to tell Tom.  Not yet.