Tito, she knew, though entirely by accident, was still here, or had been, just this afternoon. She’d seen him in the mall beneath the Four Seasons, where she’d moved when Bigend had arrived from L.A. He’d been with a man who might have been an older brother, with straight black center-parted hair to his shoulders. They’d been shopping, to judge by the bags. Tito had seen her, definitely, and had smiled, but then had turned away, down another concourse of heavily trademarked commerce.