[pshrynk]

Vivaldi looked up at Vera. "What?"

"You're in Panama! With Harv!"

"Not exactly. Actually not so much there as here, if you can believe your eyes."

"Or your nose," said Bois Aussi, "Who is this malodorous, if talking, dog, ma chere?"

"Oh, it's 'ma chere,' is it?" Vivaldi went to the corner and laid down on the doggy bed there. "Completely forgotten about your fiance, have we?"

"No! Yes! Wait..." Vera hadn't felt this confused since the first time she'd tasted peach cobbler.

"A Fiance? Damn these qwerty keyboards with no accents! You did not tell me about a fiance? That makes you so much more intriguing, ma chere!"

"Wait! Harv is not my fiance! We have an 'arrangement.' Nothing else."

"I like the way you pronounce the quotation marks, there. The only reason you're not wearing a ring is that Harv can't afford one and keeps losing the one he wins in poker before the night is through. 'Arrangement,' my eye."

"Stop! You still haven't answered my question. What are you doing here in Mexico City?"

"Oh, nothing, just thought we'd pop up here, shop for some Talavera pottery, rescue the damsel in distress, get waylaid by a gang of Nazis planning on destroying the US Pacific Fleet, get dragged off to a secret hideout by said NAzis, escape with just the collar on my neck, hear that the Nazis are going to kill Harv, and subsequently join the chihuahua cartel. Just a typical day. You?"

Vera paused to sort out the run on sentence. "WHAT?" she finally screamed out, "Did you say 'kill Harv?'"

"This Harv, he is your fiance, non?"