“Larry, the place looks deserted.” She sighed.
“Gigi, did I ever tell you that I’ve never been arrested, not even for a speeding ticket, let alone a killing?”
“Yes, Larry.”
“Well, that’s because I’m careful, and I always listen to my own brain, and right now, my brain is a little nervous.”
Gigi pulled over and stopped. “You want me to wait here?”
“Turn the car around and keep the motor running,” he said. She did so, and Larry got out of the car. He crossed the road, entered the woods, which was mostly smallish live oaks, and began running lightly through the trees. He slowed down when he could see the edge of the parking lot, then approached the pavement cautiously. From a few feet into the trees he could see everything. The parking lot was empty, and so was the pontoon. The sun was low in the sky, big and red, with the light filtering through the pollution from I-95. It was dead quiet.
Larry looked around the perimeter of the parking lot, checking for men in the tree line, but he saw nothing. He retraced his steps to the road and went to the car. As he put his hand on the door handle he heard something. Whomp-whomp-whomp. He got quickly into the car. “Chopper,” he said. “Let’s go, but don’t drive over thirty.”
“Which way?”
“Back the way we came,” Larry said.
“I don’t see the chopper,” she said, and then she crossed the bridge and turned right, and there it was.
“State police,” he said.
“But it’s headed away from us, toward I-95.”
“Look,” he said, pointing. “Stop here.”
Ahead of them, several miles away, a column of black smoke was rising, and the helicopter was flying toward it.
“Accident on I-95,” Larry said. “That’s what the chopper is for. We’re okay; let’s go back to the marina.”
Gigi made a U-turn and retraced her route.
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L o i t e r i n g w i t h I n t e n t
“This time park in the parking lot,” Larry said.
“Are you feeling less nervous?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” he replied.
She pulled into the lot.
“Turn around and back into a spot, near the bridge to the pon toon,” he said. When she stopped, he got out of the car and looked around, listened. “Pop the trunk.”
She did, and he walked to the rear of the car, still looking around, and got his duffel with its equipment inside. He waved for her to follow him. Gigi got out of the car and padded down the bridge to the pontoon. “There’s the boat,” she said, pointing to the end of the fl oat. It was a black Boston Whaler, and the name on the side registered. Larry was already climbing in. He opened the small locker under the steering wheel and came out with a key attached to a plastic float. “Looks like we’re in business,” he said.
“And not a moment too soon,” Gigi replied, checking the sunset and untying the mooring lines. She stepped into the boat, inserted the key into the ignition lock and turned it. The fi fty-horsepower outboard purred to life.
“Let’s get out of here,” Larry said. “This place gives me the creeps.”
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59
STON E A N D D IN O stood with Evan beside the rental car, a few blocks from the restaurant.
“It’s seven twenty-fi ve,” Dino said. “You’d better get going. Park as close to the restaurant as you can.”