Part 26 (1/2)

Automatic gates parted obediently when the car got near Keith's house. The pastel-blue building sprawled out behind a ma.s.s of palm trees. There were two storeys, with balconies overlooking the ocean and lush terraces planted with palm trees and flowering cacti.

'Your dad is so loaded,' James said as he stepped out of the car, shaking his head in disbelief.

'Come and check out his cars,' Junior said.

There was a separate garage, the size of which reminded James of a fire station. The boys wandered in as George dealt with their bags. There was a row of everyday modern BMWs and Mercedes, but the exciting stuff was parked behind: the outlines of seven Porsches, clad in protective blankets. Junior pulled up a corner of one, revealing a headlamp.

'This ran in the Le Mans twenty-four-hour race,' Junior said. 'My dad had it taken up to Daytona for a track day. He got it up to three hundred kph on the straight.'

'Cla.s.s,' James said.

'Like my motors, James?' Keith asked.

James turned around to see Keith standing in the doorway, wearing pool shoes and an unb.u.t.toned Hawaiian s.h.i.+rt.

'You've got a different Porsche for every day of the week,' James grinned.

'I'll take you for a cruise down South Beach in one of them tomorrow night,' Keith said. 'It's all lit up with neon signs after dark and there's heaps of great restaurants. Did you see anything else you wanted to do in that guidebook?'

'Is it too far to go up to Orlando?' James asked. 'Junior said Universal Studios is cool.'

'It's a few hundred kilometres,' Keith said. 'But it's no ha.s.sle driving out there. We can stay overnight and get a couple of theme parks in if you want. I've got some business to sort out, but that should be wrapped up in a day or two. Was there anywhere else?'

James shrugged. 'I dunno, don't put yourself out or anything. Me and Junior can hang out on the beach, go shopping and stuff.'

'The fan boats over the everglades are good fun,' Keith said. 'And how are you set for spending money?' He pulled a roll of dollars from the back of his shorts.

'I can't take money off you as well,' James said. 'You've already paid for my flight and everything.'

Keith handed James three hundred-dollar bills and gave the same to Junior.

'Buy something for April at the mall,' Keith said. 'She's sweet on you.'

'Cheers,' James said. 'Is it all right if I use the phone to tell Zara I've arrived?'

'Sure,' Keith said, spreading his arms out wide. 'With a house this size, the phone bill is the least of my worries.'

After a quick call home, the two boys stripped to their boxers, jumped off the wooden decking at back of the house and sprinted across the deserted white beach towards the ocean. James was feeling grotty after eight hours crammed on an aeroplane, but all that washed away as he curled his toes in the mushy sand and let the sea water spew over his chest.

'I'm so glad you came instead of Ringo,' Junior said, raising his voice above the waves. 'This week is gonna be such a laugh.'

James slept in one of the guest bedrooms. He had a four-poster bed, plus an en-suite bathroom with a giant marble tub. When he woke up, he slid on shorts and a T-s.h.i.+rt and opened up a set of gla.s.s doors that led on to a balcony overlooking the ocean. He took some of lungfuls of sea air and leaned against the metal railing, letting the sun toast his skin.

The coastline was dotted with yachts and motor launches out for a Sunday morning cruise. An elderly Hispanic gardener was hosing the terraces below. The man nodded politely when their eyes met. It made James wonder where he'd end up in life. Would he have the $10 million ocean-front house, or would he be like the crinkled old guy who watered the flowers?

'Yo,' Junior shouted.

He came strolling through James' bedroom and stepped on to the balcony.

'What you doing out here?' Junior asked.

James shrugged. 'Just thinking.'

'Dumb idea,' Junior said. 'Thinking wears out your brain. My dad wants us downstairs. We're going to IHOP for breakfast.'

'You what?'

'It's a pancake place,' Junior explained. 'I'm getting a stack of strawberry whipped cream pancakes. They give you so many you can barely move when you finish. Dad and George are going into town for some business meeting, so they're dropping us at the mega-mall. It's about twenty times the size of the Reeve Centre. We can spill some dosh on shopping, then there's a sixteen-screen cinema and a rollercoaster if we get bored.'

'Sounds good,' James grinned.

James bought himself new jeans and swimming shorts and a couple of CDs, including one as a present for Kerry; then they caught a movie and waited around until George arrived to collect them. It was mid-afternoon when they got back to the house.

'How was the meeting?' James asked.

'Good,' Keith grinned. 'Very, very good.'

'Does that mean I'll be able to go back to making money from deliveries?'

'I don't know about that,' Keith said awkwardly. 'Everything is gonna be different. Do you fancy going for a swim now the sun's lower?'

'Actually,' James said, 'do you mind if I use your laptop to e-mail my family?'

'No worries,' Keith said.

George, Keith and Junior put on swimming shorts and walked down to the sea. Once they were out of sight, James raced up to his room and got a couple of USB memory sticks and a hacker's toolkit CD-ROM out of the bottom of his bag. He climbed on to one of the metal stools at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, turned on Keith's laptop and connected to the internet.

James clicked on Hotmail and checked the e-mails, in an account he'd set up for his James Beckett alias. He had three messages from April, including one that contained a blurry photo of April and Erin in their ski suits with the message Miss U already, April, x.x.x. James replied insincerely with Miss U2, before writing a longer message to Kerry, gloating about the weather and the beautiful house he was staying in.

When he'd finished typing his e-mails, James stood up and peeked out the window, making sure Keith, George and Junior were well clear of the house. As he flipped confidently through the files on the laptop, he realised that his marathon training sessions with Amy had been worth the brain-ache.

He clicked on Keith's doc.u.ments folder. There were a couple of hundred files inside. Most had a little padlock symbol next to them, meaning they were encrypted. James decided it was too risky trying to read stuff with Keith just down on the beach. Instead, he plugged a memory card into the USB socket on the side of the laptop. The card was only the size of a pen top, but it held as much data as six CDs.

A grey box popped up on the screen: New USB device detected. James checked the size of Keith's doc.u.ments folder and realised there was enough s.p.a.ce on the memory card to copy the whole lot over. He waited a couple of anxious minutes while the computer copied Keith's files. Then he switched off the laptop and walked back to his bedroom. He got his mobile out of his luggage and set it to search for an American network. When it found a connection, James speed-dialled the number of a local Drug Enforcement Agency office he'd been given before he left.

John Jones answered. 'James?'

'Hi.'

'Settled in OK?' John asked.

'Not bad,' James said. 'You?'

'My flight was fine, but the heat out here does me in. I'm more of a fish-and-chip-supper-on-a-cold-winter-night kind of guy.'

'I can't talk for long,' James said. 'But I've been through Keith's laptop.'