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〃Did you do much fishing；〃 Gault asked； 〃when you lived there？〃
〃I was just a small boy；〃 Garcia said。 〃My great…uncle did some fishing； though。〃
〃Is that right？〃
〃He was a mullet man。〃
〃Oh。〃
〃He sold marlin baits to Hemingway。〃
〃No shit！〃 Dennis Gault said。 Now he was impressed。 〃I saw a movie about Hemingway once；〃 he said。 〃Starred that Patton guy。〃
Back at police headquarters； Al Garcia sat down at his desk and slipped a cassette into a portable tape recorder。 The date of January 7 had been written in pencil on the label of the cassette。 It was one of three used in R。 J。 Decker's answering machine。 Garcia had picked them up at the trailer after he got the search warrant。
He closed the door to his office； and turned the volume on the tape machine up to number ten on the dial。 Then he lit a cigarette and pressed the Play button。
There were a few seconds of scratchy blank tape； followed by the sound of a phone ringing。 The fourth ring was interrupted by a metallic click and the sound of R。 J。 Decker's voice： 〃I'm not home now。 Please leave a message at the tone。〃
The first caller was a woman： 〃Rage； it's me。 James is on another trip and I'm in the mood for pasta。 How about Rita's at nine？〃
In his notebook Garcia wrote： Ex…wife。
The second caller was also a woman： 〃R。J。； it's Barbara。 I'm sorry about canceling the other night。 How about a drink later to make up for it？〃
Garcia wrote： Some girl。
The third caller was a man： 〃Mr。 Decker； you probably don't know me but I know of you。 I need a private investigator； and you e highly remended。 Call me as soon as possible…I guarantee it'll be worth your time。 The number is 555…3400。 The name is Dennis Gault。〃
In his notebook Al Garcia wrote： Bad guy。
For several days Decker and Skink stayed inside the hotel room； waiting for things to cool off。 Decker had done what he could over the phone； and was eager to get on the road。 For his part； Skink had shrunk into a silent and lethargic melancholy； and exhibited no desire to do anything or go anywhere。
Finally； the afternoon Catherine arrived； Skink briefly came to life。 He went outside and stood on the beach and started shooting at jetliners on final approach to the Fort Lauderdale…Hollywood airport。
Catherine had shown up with a recent stock prospectus from the Outdoor Christian Network； which was listed on the New York exchange as Outdoor ChristNet。 Decker was no whiz when it came to stocks； so he had telephoned a reporter friend on the business desk of the Miami Sun。 The reporter had done a search on OCN in the newsroom puter and e up with some interesting clips； which Catherine had picked up before she left Miami。 From the file it was obvious that OCN's rapid growth in the Sun Belt cable market had flooded the pany with fluid capital； capital which the Reverend Charles Weeb and his advisers were plowing pell…mell into Florida real estate。 The prospectus made several tantalizing references to an 〃exciting new waterfront development targeted for middle…ine family home buyers〃 but neglected to mention the protracted and somewhat shady process by which Lunker Lakes had escaped all zoning regulations known to man。 The word 〃kickback；〃 for example； appeared nowhere in the stock brochure。 The newspaper articles dwelt on this aspect of the controversial project； and indeed it was the only angle that seemed to interest Skink in the slightest。 He asked where exactly Lunker Lakes would be located； then took the prospectus and newspaper clippings from Decker's hands and read them closely。
Then he pulled the flowered shower cap down tight on his hair； excused himself with a mumble； walked outside； and waited on the beach。 The first ining jet was an Eastern 727 from La Guardia； the second was a United DC…10 from Chicago via St。 Louis； the third was a Bahamas Air shuttle carrying day gamblers back from Freeport。 None of the airliners went down or even smoked； though Skink was sure he dinged the bellies a couple of times。 The noise of the gunfire was virtually smothered by the roar of the jets and the heavy…metal wail of Bon Jovi from some teenybopper's boom box。 In all Skink got off eleven rounds from the nine…millimeter Browning before he spied the lifeguard's Jeep speeding toward him down the beach。 The Jeep was at least three…quarters of a mile away； giving Skink plenty of time to jog back to the hotel； duck into a john in the lobby； and work on his appearance。
When he got back to the room； the shower cap and sunglasses were in his pocket； the orange rainsuit was folded under one arm； and his long braid of hair was tucked down the back of his shirt。 R。 J。 Decker asked what happened and Skink told him。
〃Excellent；〃 Decker said。 〃Let's see； by my estimate that means we're now wanted by the Metro…Dade police； the highway patrol； the marine patrol； and now the FAA and FBI。 Am I leaving anybody out？〃
Skink settled listlessly on the floor。
Catherine said； 〃R。J。； you've got to get him out of the city。〃
Decker said； 〃My father； rest his soul； would be so proud to know that he raised a fugitive。 Not every FBI man can make that claim。〃
〃I'm sorry；〃 Skink sighed。
It was the most pathetic thing Decker had ever heard him say…and in one way the scariest。 Skink acted like he was on the brink of losing it。 Decker leaned over and said； 〃Captain； why were you shooting at airplanes？〃
〃Look who they're bringing；〃 Skink said。 〃They're bringing the suckers to Lunker Lakes。 The Reverend Weeb's lucky lemmings。〃 He seemed out of breath。 He motioned for Catherine to hand him the OCN prospectus。 With a brown crusty finger he went down the names of directors。
〃These guys；〃 he said hoarsely。 〃I know a few。〃
〃From where？〃 Catherine asked。
〃It's not important。 Twenty…nine thousand units in the Everglades is what's important。 Christian city； my ass。 It's the crime of the damn century。 These guys are like cockroaches； you can't fucking get rid of 'em。〃
Decker said； 〃It's too late； captain。 Dredging started a year ago。〃
〃Jesus；〃 Skink said； biting his lip。 He put on his sunglasses and bowed his head。 He didn't look up for some time。 Decker/glanced over at Catherine。 She was right： they had to get Skink back to the woods。
From the hallway came sounds of men talking but trying not to be heard。 Then a knock on the door to the next room； another knock across the hall。
〃Hotel security；〃 a male voice said。
R。 J。 Decker motioned Skink toward the bathroom。 He nodded and crab…walked across the floor； shutting the door behind him。 Quickly Decker peeled off his shirt and drew the shades。 〃Take off your shoes；〃 he whispered to Catherine； 〃and lie down here on the bed。〃 She figured out the plan immediately。 She was down to bra and panties and under the covers before Decker even got a good peek。
A man knocked three times on the door。
〃Whoze it？〃 Decker hollered。 〃Go 'way。〃
〃Hotel security； please open up。〃
〃We're sleeping！〃
Another voice： 〃Police！〃
Decker stomped to the door as noisily as possible。 He cracked it just enough to give the men a narrow view of Catherine in the bed。
〃What's the problem？〃 Decker demanded。
A blue…suited young man with a walkie…talkie stood next to a disinterested uniformed cop。 The security man said； 〃Sir； there was an incident out on the beach。 A man with a gun…nobody was hurt。〃
〃That's damn good to hear；〃 Decker said impatiently。
The cop said； 〃You haven't seen anyone unusual up on this floor？〃
〃For the last couple hours I haven't seen nuthin'；〃 Decker said； 〃except stars。〃 He nodded over his shoulder； toward Catherine。 The security man looked a little embarrassed。
The policeman said； 〃Big scruffy guy with a bright hat and pony…tail。 Witnesses saw him run into this hotel； so we're suggesting that all guests stay in their rooms for a while。〃
〃Don't you worry；〃 Decker said。
〃Just for a while；〃 the security man added； 〃until they catch him。〃
When Decker shut the door； Catherine sat up in bed and said； 〃Stars？ You saw stars？〃
〃Don't you dare move；〃 Decker said； diving headfirst into the sheets。
Thomas Curl was not a happy man。 In the past few weeks he had made more money than he or three previous generations of Curls had ever seen； yet Thomas was not at peace。 First of all； his brother Lemus was dead； and for a while Thomas had been stuck with the body。 Since he had told everyone； including his daddy； that Lemus had accidentally drowned on a fishing trip to Florida； there was no way he could bring back a body with a bullet hole in the head。 People would ask many questions； and answering questions was not Thomas Curl's strong suit。 So； after discovering Lemus' turtle…eaten corpse on the fish stringer in Morgan Slough； and mulling it over for two days； Thomas decided what the hell and just buried his brother in a dry sandy grave on some pastureland east of the Gilchrist。 The whole time he worked with the shovel； he had a feeling that every turkey buzzard in Florida was wheeling in the sky overhead； waiting to make a smorgasbord of Lemus' remains。 Afterward Thomas took off his bass cap and stood by the grave and tried to remember a prayer。 The only one he could think of began： 〃Now I lay me down to sleep 。。。 〃 Close enough。
Almost every night Thomas Curl reflected sadly on how Lemus had died； how he had let him dash off into the scrub by himself； and how all of a sudden he didn't hear Lemus' Ruger anymore。 And how Thomas had panicked and leapt into the green pickup and taken off； pretty sure that his brother was already dead…and how he'd returned with a borrowed coon dog and found some heavy tracks and blood； but no body。 At that moment he had expected never to see his brother again； and later at the slough was horrified to the point of nausea。 On orders Thomas had gone there to check on things； just to make sure the nigger cop hadn't found Ott Pickney's body。 But there was poor Lemus； strung up in the black water with the other one； and it was then Thomas Curl realized the dangerous magnitude of the opposition。 Thomas was not the brightest human being in the world； but he knew a message when he saw one。
So he had buried Lemus； torched Ott Pickney's body in a phony truck accident； and driven straight back to New Orleans； where； again； things didn't go as smoothly as he'd hoped。 Thomas expressed the view that he shouldn't be blamed for every little loose end； and was curtly instructed to return to Florida immediately。 Not Harney； either； but Miami。
Thomas Curl was not wild about Miami。 Back when he was still boxing he had trained one summer at the Fifth Street Gym； out on the beach。 He remembered staying in a ratty pink hotel with two other middleweights； and he remembered getting drunk on Saturday nights and； out of sheer boredom； beating the shit out of skinny Cuban refugees who lived in the city parks。 Thomas remembered Miami as a hot and unfriendly place； but then again； he was young and homesick and broke。 Now he was grown…up； thirty…five pounds heavier； and rolling in new money。
To boost his spirits； Thomas Curl splurged and got a room at the Grand Bay Hotel。 The room came with a fruit basket and a sunken bathtub。 He was sucking on a nectarine and soaking in the tub when Dennis Gault called back。
Thomas Curl said； 〃Hey； they got a phone in the goddamn John。〃
〃Wele to the city； Jethro。〃 Gault was in a brusque mood。 Dealing with this moron was at least two notches below dealing with Decker。 Gault said； 〃A cop came to see me。〃
Thomas Curl spit the nectarine pit into his soapy hand。 〃Yeah？ They caught 'em yet？〃
〃No；〃 Gault said； 〃but the way things are shaping up； maybe it's best if they don't。〃
〃Hell you mean？〃
Gault said； 〃This cop； fucking Cuban； he doesn't believe a word I say。〃
〃Who cares； long as New Orleans believes you。〃
〃Ever heard of extradition？〃 Gault snapped。 〃This guy can cause us major problems； son。 He can keep Decker away from the Louisiana people a long time。 Sit on him for weeks； listen to his story； maybe even buy it。〃
〃No way；〃 Curl said。
〃We can't take the chance； Thomas。〃
〃I done enough for you。〃
Gault said； 'This one's not for me； it's for your brother。〃
In the tub Thomas reached over and turned on the hot water。 He was careful not to get the telephone we