Part 21 (1/2)

”Fine. Then wait. I'll be done in three minutes.”

And she was. Loutie turned the key in the lock, climbed into her car, and pulled out ahead of us. Joey and I climbed into his Expedition, and he steered back onto Highway 98.

Miles of scruffy beach vegetation droned by, and exhaustion poured over me. I was drifting into unconsciousness when the phone began vibrating against my hip. I reached into the wind-breaker's side pocket, fished out the phone, and handed it to Joey. It was probably Loutie.

Joey said, ”h.e.l.lo,” listened some, and handed the phone back.

I looked at him and put the tiny gray receiver against my ear. ”h.e.l.lo?”

”Mr. McInnes, this is Charlie Estevez in Tallaha.s.see. We must talk.”

”No s.h.i.+t.”

”There has been a death.”

My stomach tightened, and I prepared to hear the worst about Susan. ”Who is it?”

”Leroy Purcell.”

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. ”How do you know?”

”I don't understand. Were you involved? We believed you weren't. If you were, then we have nothing else to discuss.”

”What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?”

Estevez said, ”I'm calling on behalf of Mr. Sanchez. He wanted to warn you. One of our people found Leroy Purcell murdered not five minutes ago. Mr. Sanchez was concerned that certain people in Purcell's organization might suspect you.”

I tried to sound a little more surprised. ”What happened?”

”Somebody knifed him. He was... I'm sorry, but I don't know how else to put this. As it was described to me, Purcell had been ... well, gutted. And, ah, something worse than that.”

Estevez wanted to tell me the lurid details. But he wanted me to ask. Instead, I asked about the doctor's wife from Atlanta who had been with Purcell that morning in Mobile for brunch.

Estevez said, ”She's fine. Reports are that there was some kind of argument, and Purcell walked out and left her at the party.”

I thought it was kind of soon to already have ”reports” on Purcell's date that morning. I said, ”Well, that's good,” and decided it was time for an awkward pause.

I was getting on Estevez's nerves. He wanted to tell me about Purcell's death, and I wanted to get off the phone.

Almost five seconds pa.s.sed before Estevez said, ”Purcell had been ... Our man found him spread-eagle on the top of his desk with a bunch of nails hammered through his wrists and the skin on the sides of his neck and, pardon the detail, but...”

I interrupted. ”I got the picture.” Once again, Estevez paused. I asked, ”Anything else?”

”That's not enough?”

I said, ”More than enough.”

Joey slowed to a respectable speed as we crossed the state line and followed Highway 331 through the fruit-stand-lined streets of Florala. Just a couple of car lengths ahead, hard tropical suns.h.i.+ne bounced off the back window of a red Saturn, partially obscuring our view of four sun-streaked ponytails that bobbed and bounced with animated conversation. The Greek letters for phi mu clung to the red, rear-window brake light, and one of the girls had draped a shapely, suntanned leg out of the front window on the right side. The leg's owner wiggled her toes in the warm wind as she sipped dark cola from a liter bottle and adjusted her sungla.s.ses.

Joey said, ”That's what Carli ought to be doin' at her age.”

I looked over at him and nodded.

He said, ”It's not gonna happen, is it? We get her out of this, anda”after what her father did to her and everything elsea”she still ain't ever gonna be like those little sorority girls.”

The scene back at Seaside had gotten to him. For Joey, this was pouring his heart out. I put my hand over the cell phone mouthpiece and said, ”Not like them. No. But one day she'll make it. Look at Loutie.”

Joey was through talking. He was studying the girls. I refocused my attention on the cell phone and on Charlie Estevez, who had been patiently waiting for me to respond to his news about Purcell.

I said, ”Tell Sanchez I need to see him right away.”

Estevez cleared his throat. ”Mr. Sanchez is a very busy man. I'm not even sure where he is, ah...”

”There have been other, connected deaths today. Do you understand?” Estevez didn't answer. I said, ”And that's all I'm saying over the phone about that. Sanchez needs to know, though, that somebody's making a move on everyone involved, and up until now I thought it might be him. That's why I wasn't real polite when you told me who you were. But, if it's not your patriots, you better tell Sanchez to call me in a hurry. This is all spinning out of control, and somebody's going to pay. You got that?”

Estevez let a few seconds pa.s.s before answering, but when he spoke he sounded more thoughtful than irritated. ”I have it. Will you be at this number?”

”Yeah. Unless my battery gives out. If it does, I'll call you back in one hour.” I said, ”By the way, we learned something interesting today about who my client actually saw with Purcell in See Sh.o.r.e Cottage that night. One of Jethro's cousinsa”if you follow mea”told my partner that all this started over some Cuban, in his words, some 'Castro' getting whacked.” Estevez was quiet. I said good-bye and pushed the end b.u.t.ton.

Joey said, ”By any chance, am I the partner who heard about the murder?”

”Yeah. You are.”

”Just when exactly did I hear this?”

I said, ”I haven't decided yet,” then tossed my phone on the seat and pulled Joey's out of the clip on his dash and called Kelly. I explained to her, somewhat cryptically since we were talking over airwaves, what had happened, and told her to check into a hotel or go visit her mother for a few days. Kelly promised to get out of town.

When I finished, I filled Joey in on Charlie Estevez's side of our phone conversation, and Joey said, ”Gimme that,” and took his phone out of my hand. He called Randy Whittles, Navy SEAL and loser of lost girls, and checked on his progress finding Carli. Joey filled Randy in on what was happening and told him to be available in Mobile that night for a meeting.

Joey put the phone back in its dashboard holder and said, ”We gotta get everybody together tonight and figure out what to do about all this.”

I said, ”I'm not going to vote on it, Joey. I'm going to find out who took Susan and ... and cause somebody some pain.”

Joey looked miserable. ”I know it doesn't look good, but we don't know what the h.e.l.l happened with Susan today. And, Tom, I like Susan too. Not like you do. But she's my friend too. Believe me, if we find out somebody hurt her, I'm gonna skip the pain part and go right to killing the sonofab.i.t.c.h.”

Bright suns.h.i.+ne glinted off the hood and burned a fiery oval into my retina. I closed my eyes and rubbed hard at them with the heels of my hands. I could still see the blazing dot. Joey said, ”There's a pair of sungla.s.ses in the glove box.”

I put them on.

I said, ”You remember telling me about that dagger tattoo on the arm of one of the guys who jumped you outside the bar the first night you were in Apalachicola?”

”Outside Mother's Milk. Yeah. I remember.”

”You said there were initials over and under it.”

Joey rubbed his jaw. ”Yeah. I remember it said R.I.P. Rest in Peace, I guess. And it had something like initials too.”