. Twenty-one... Craps. UncleAbner -- you should excuse the name -- even taught me how to playchess."Bridget giggled. "Oooh, you!" 'Scuse me, Se?or...Lewis..." Angel Montiero had walked up to the table."...can I talk to you for a moment?"Bridget stood up. "I'll just leave you men to talk." No," Cap said, "you can stay. This won't take very long." He turnedto the cowhand. "My uncle sent you, didn't he?" Si -- yes, sir." Angel held his hat in his hands, and now hefidgeted with it, as he. But he was glad he hadn’t intervened just yet. How could he have punctured that balloon with the terrible news? He’d wait for a better time. He started his Mercedes, and followed. He’d have to choose his moment. Surely that moment would arise soon. Wrong. First, he waited for three hours — three hours! — outside some beauty salon. Then, they’d driven out of town to a small winery, presumably for lunch and, no doubt, wine. He’d parked on the far side of the lot, enviously munching a bagel he’d. More

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