"I'm surprised she didn't just call me. I got no hard feelings. The two of you didn't work out, but she's still welcome here."
"After what she said?"
"She didn't say nothin', Jack. You two were drinking, having fun. She made a dumb-ass joke about me landing you in jail."
"Getting me disbarred," said Jack, correcting him.
"Whatever."
"Don't dismiss it. It bugs me, the way a cop's mind works. So what if the DNA proved you didn't kill that convenience-store clerk? If you didn't do that crime, you were probably doing something when the cops picked you up that night. Or, if you weren't doing something right at that very moment, you've probably done a whole lot of other things in your life."
"I have done a lotta other things," said Theo.
"That's not the point."
"You're right. The point is, Andie made a joke, and you jumped all over it."
"What are you talking about?"
"Forget it. Don't make no difference anyhow," he said, pointing with his eyes toward Rene. She was still having her run of the pool table. "There's your woman, right over there. Beautiful. Smart. Rich."
"You know she gave away most of what she inherited. Tons for AIDS research. I'm guessing she's down to a million or less."
"Down to a million? Like I said, she's freakin' rich, okay?"
Jack gave a little smile, but it faded. "She's going back to Africa Monday."
"Lucky you."
"What?"
"That's the way you like it, no? It's easy to convince yourself that you love a woman who's never around. It only gets hard when you have to admit you love someone who's actually here, in love with you, and ready to change your life forever."
"That's such psychobabble."
Rene waved to Jack from across the room.
"If it is," said Theo, "then make her stay."
"I can't make her stay. What am I supposed to do, kidnap her?"
"Just make her not want to leave," said Theo. "I dare you."
Jack finished the last of his beer. "All right, I will."
Theo waited, but Jack didn't move. "Well, go on then."
"I'm going. As soon as I finish my brewski."
"It is finished."
Jack took a dry pull from the empty bottle. Theo laughed and gave him a friendly shove, but it was still hard enough to knock Jack off the bar stool and start him in Rene's direction.
"There he goes, ladies and gentlemen: the world's greatest lover."Then Theo lowered his voice and added, "So long as there's an ocean between him and his woman."
Theo watched as Rene stepped toward Jack to greet him, tossing her hair and slipping her arms around his waist as if they were a perfect fit. It made Theo think about Trina – a pleasant enough thought that was quickly interrupted by the imagined pain of a Prince Albert. But he still felt this sudden need to talk to her.
The telephone rang under the bar. No one would expect him to pick up on a busy Saturday night – except Trina. Hell, what did she want him to do now, pierce his eyeball? He let it ring.
"You want me to get that?" asked his cocktail waitress.
"No," he said a little too firmly.
The waitress shrugged it off and went back to slogging drinks.
The ringing stopped. He could have hit star-69 to confirm his instincts, but he was sure it was Trina. She would want to know how it had gone with Manny the body piercer, and then he would have to tell her exactly what he'd just told Jack – that she must be out of her mind, and that it was over between them. There was only one problem. He wasn't sure he could say it.
What's wrong with you, homeboy?
The telephone rang again. Trina obviously wasn't going to take Theo's machine for an answer. He snatched up the phone and said hello. Dead air. It was one of those cheapo cordless receivers that worked about as well as the Batman walkie-talkies he'd stolen from a toy store as a kid. He pitched it aside and hurried to his office. That phone shared the same line, and it was ringing as he entered the room. He closed the door and started toward the desk, but his answering machine picked up before he could get to it. The recorded greeting was in Theo's voice, a throwback to his days as a jailhouse lawyer.
"You have the right to remain silent… or you can leave a message at the beep."
The tone sounded, and Theo waited for the message. He heard only traffic noises, which told him that it was either a cell or a pay phone. He wasn't sure why Trina would be calling from a pay phone – and then he realized who else it could be. Cy was in the next room, and Theo didn't want him to overhear a message being left. He picked up but didn't answer.
"Theo, you there?"
He recognized Isaac's voice immediately. He was about to speak, but then a thought crossed his mind. Jack had told the cops there would be no search of the premises, but what if they'd tapped his telephone, waiting for Isaac to call back?
"Come on, dude. I heard you pick up the phone."
Theo just listened.
"Answer me, brotha'. I need a deal. I know you wanna deal with me, too."
Theo wanted to respond, but the possibility of a law-enforcement tap on the telephone tied his tongue in knots.
"What's the matter with you, boy? Say somethin'!"
Isaac wasn't even trying to sound cool anymore. Sirens blared in the background.
"Knight, answer me already! You hear me? I know you can hear – aw, fuck you, then. That's all I got to say to you. Just-"
Theo waited for a click on the other end of the line, but it didn't come. He couldn't tell if Isaac was still there or not.
The sirens were only getting louder.
Chapter 9
Isaac left the pay phone's receiver dangling from its metal cord. He was off and running with no idea where he was headed – a dangerous place for a fugitive to be. The dark cover of night was his only ally and even that was betraying him. Moon over Miami – the city was famous for it. Tonight, it was like a spotlight.
Could the damn thing be any brighter?
Thankfully the sirens had blown right past him. Two Miami-Dade Police Department vehicles were speeding west through the city of Homestead's business district, toward the turnpike. Isaac tried to tell himself that maybe they'd been called to a holdup at a liquor store or a domestic disturbance, but he was certain that the cops were hot on his trail. Choppers whirred overhead, their searchlights cutting like lasers through the night sky. It wasn't just a routine pass. They kept circling back, covering a defined urban and suburban area that included several square miles, but they seemed to be narrowing in on Isaac's present position. The canine units couldn't be far behind.
It was time for a new plan.
He sprinted down a dark alley in a strip mall and found himself at the loading dock behind a grocery store. He had to rest. Months of extra weightlifting in prison could only carry him so far. He hadn't focused nearly enough on cardio training. The side-stitch in his abdomen felt like a knife in his belly. Traces of smoke in the air from those brushfires in the Everglades were starting to bother him. Damn drought. He couldn't even make a run for the wilderness. Not that he would have wanted to go anywhere near that place after dark. It was Alligators vs. Pythons out there, nature's classic showdown between reptiles for the Everglades' title of chief predator. And the fires worked to the advantage of the police; they didn't waste their time trying to hunt him down in the middle of nowhere.
Exhausted, he stopped and hid behind a towering stack of flattened cardboard boxes. He sat with his head between his knees, searching for a second wind.
"Shoulda' killed him," he muttered beneath his breath. The smart thing would have been to take that hammer and bash the old man's brains in, just like he'd done with that little barking fur ball. Isaac's best advice inside the correctional center had come from a lifer who escaped from a Texas jail and got recaptured less than 300 yards from the Mexican border. "You wanna stay out of prison, you gotta take no prisoners," said the voice of experience. "It's their bad luck if they cross your path, but it's you or them." Isaac couldn't know for sure, but he figured that the old man had wiggled free from the rags that bound his wrists and ankles, run to safety, and dialed 911. The cops might not have thrown every resource into south Miami-Dade County based solely on a tip from Theo Knight, an ex-con. But a second sighting cinched it. All that could have – should have – been avoided with just one swing of the hammer.