"Call me when you get out."
"Be a while," he said. "Hey, is it too late to get me in on that ulcer deal?"
That was six months ago.
Bud Schwartz touched the place on his brow where the rent-a-cop's flashlight had clobbered him. He could feel a scabby eruption the size of a golf ball. "Damn," he said, opening his eyes slowly.
Molly McNamara moved closer and stood over him. She was wearing her reading glasses with the pink roses on the frames. She said, "Your friend is in the bedroom."
"Danny's back?"
"I was on my way here when I spotted him at the Farm Stores. He tried to get away, but "
"You didn't shoot him again?" Bud Schwartz was asking more out of curiosity than concern.
"No need to," said Molly. "I had the Cadillac. I think your friend realized there's no point in getting run over."
With a wheeze, Bud Schwartz sat up. His ears pounded and stomach juices bubbled up sourly in his throat. As always, Molly was prompt with the first aid. She handed him a towel filled with chipped ice and told him to pack it against his wound.
Danny Pogue clumped into the living room and sat on the other end of the sofa. "You look like shit," he said to Bud Schwartz.
"Thank you, Tom Selleck." From under the towel Bud Schwartz glared with one crimson eye.
Molly McNamara said, "That's enough, the both of you. I can't begin to tell you how much trouble you've caused."
"We was trying to get out of your hair is all," said Danny Pogue. "Why're you keeping us prisoners?"
Molly said, "Aren't we being a bit melodramatic? You are not prisoners. You're simply two young men in my employ until I decide otherwise."
"In case you didn't hear," said Bud Schwartz, "Lincoln freed the slaves a long time ago."
Molly McNamara ignored the remark. "At the gatehouse I had to tell Officer Andrews a lie. I told him you were my nephews visiting from Georgia. I told him we'd had a fight and that's why you were trying to sneak out of Eagle Ridge. I told him your parents died in a plane crash when you were little, and I was left responsible for taking care of you."
"Pitiful," said Bud Schwartz.
"I told him you both had emotional problems."
"We're heading that direction," Bud Schwartz said.
"I don't like to lie," Molly added sternly. "Normally I don't believe in it."
"But shooting people is okay?" Danny Pogue cackled bitterly. "Lady, pardon me for saying, but I think you're goddamn fucking nutso."
Molly's eyes flickered. In a frozen voice she said, "Please don't use that word in my presence."
Danny Pogue mumbled that he was sorry. He wasn't sure which word she meant.
"I'm not certain Officer Andrews believed any of it," Molly went on. "I wouldn't be surprised if he reported the entire episode to the condominium association. You think you've got problems now! Oh, brother, just wait."
Bud Schwartz removed the towel from his forehead and examined it for bloodstains. Molly said, "Are you listening to me?"
"Hanging on every word."
"Because I've got some very bad news. For all of us."
Bud Schwartz grunted wearily. What now? What the hell now?
"It was on the television tonight," Molly McNamara said. "The mango voles are dead. Killed on the highway."
Nervously Danny Pogue glanced at his partner, whose eyes were fixed hard on the old woman. Waiting, no doubt, to see if she pulled that damn pistol from her sweater.
Molly said, "I don't know all the details, but I suppose it's not important. I feel absolutely sick about this."
Good, thought Bud Schwartz, maybe she's not blaming us.
But she was. "If only I'd known how careless and irresponsible you were, I would never have recruited you for this job." Molly took off her rose-framed glasses and folded them meticulously. Her gray eyes were misting.
"The blue-tongued mango voles are extinct because of me," she said, blinking, "and because of you."
Bud Schwartz said, "We're real sorry."
"Yeah," agreed Danny Pogue. "It's too bad they died."
Molly was downcast. "This is an unspeakable sin against Nature. The death of these dear animals, I can't tell you it goes against everything I've worked for, everything I believe in. I was so stupid to entrust this project to a couple of reckless, clumsy criminals."
"That's us," said Bud Schwartz.
Danny Pogue didn't like his partner's casual tone. He said to Molly, "We didn't know they was so important. They looked like regular old rats."
The old woman absently fondled the buttons of her sweater. "There's no point belaboring it. The damage is done. Now we've got to atone."
"Atone," said Bud Schwartz suspiciously.
"What does that mean?" asked Danny Pogue. "I don't know that word."
Molly said, "Tell him, Bud."
"It means we gotta do something to make up for all this."
Molly nodded. "That's right. Somehow we must redeem ourselves."
Bud Schwartz sighed. He wondered what crazy lie she'd told the rent-a-cop about their gunshot wounds.
And this condo association what's she so worried about?
"Have you ever heard of the Mothers of Wilderness?" asked Molly McNamara.
"No," said Bud Schwartz, "can't say that I have." Danny Pogue said he'd never heard of them, either.
"No matter," said Molly, brightening, "because as of tonight, you're our newest members. Congratulations, gentlemen!"
Restlessly Danny Pogue squeezed a pimple on his neck. "Is it like a nature club?" he said. "Do we get T-shirts and stuff?"
"Oh, you'll enjoy it," said Molly. "I've got some pamphlets in my briefcase."
Bud Schwartz clutched at the damp towel. This time he pressed it against his face. "Cut to the chase," he muttered irritably. "What the hell is it you want us to do?"
"I'm coming to that," said Molly McNamara. "By the way, did I mention that Mr. Kingsbury is offering a reward to anyone who turns in the vole robbers?"
"Oh, no," said Danny Pogue.
"Quite an enormous reward, according to the papers."
"How nice," said Bud Schwartz, his voice cold.
"Oh, don't worry," Molly said. "I wouldn't dream of saying anything to the authorities."
"How could you?" Danny Pogue exclaimed. "You're the one asked us to rob the place!"
Molly's face crinkled in thought. "That'd be awfully hard to swallow, that an old retired woman like myself would get involved in such a distasteful crime. I suppose the FBI would have to decide whom to believe two young fellows with your extensive criminal pasts, or an older woman like myself who's never even had a parking ticket."
Danny Pogue angrily pounded the floor with one of his crutches. "For someone who don't like to lie, you sure do make a sport of it."
Bud Schwartz stretched out on the sofa, closed his eyes and smiled in resignation. "You're a piece a work," he said to Molly McNamara. "I gotta admit."
The Card Sound Bridge is a steep two-lane span that connects the northern tip of Key Largo with the South Florida mainland. Joe Winder got there two hours early, at ten o'clock. He parked half a mile down the road and walked the rest of the way. He staked out a spot on some limestone boulders, which formed a jetty under the eastern incline of the bridge. From there Winder could watch for the car that would bring the mystery caller to this meeting.
He knew it wouldn't be Dr. Will Koocher; Nina was never wrong about phone voices. Joe Winder had no intention of confronting the impostor, but at least he wanted to get a good look, maybe even a tag number.
Not much was biting under the bridge. Effortlessly Winder cast the same pink wiggle-jig he'd been using on the bonefish flats. He let it sink into the fringe of the sea grass, then reeled in slowly, bouncing the lure with the tip of his rod. In this fashion he picked up a couple of blue runners and a large spiny pinfish, which he tossed back. The other fishermen were using dead shrimp with similar unexciting results. By eleven most of them had packed up their buckets and rods and gone home, leaving the jetty deserted except for Joe Winder and two other diehards.