the screen behind him, opened the back door to an alley and got into a waiting car, driven by his secretary. “Go,” he said. She drove fast down the alley, made a right, then a left, and stopped.
“Go straight home; you’ve been there all evening. There’ll be people at the offi ce tomorrow. Play dumb, and hang on to the box I gave you.” He took a bundle of cash from the envelope and handed her the rest. “Put this in the box and seal it; I’ll call you in a couple of days on your cell with instructions on where to send it. See you later,” Manny said. He got out of the car and into a dark blue sedan, not his own. Five minutes later he was off the island, headed for Miami International Airport and a flight to Mexico, where he owned a house.
HAL F A B L O C K from the Steak Shack, Stone and Dino watched as two carloads of men poured onto the sidewalk and ran inside the restaurant.
“That’s it for Manny,” Dino said.
Stone’s cell phone buzzed, and he opened it. “Yeah?”
“It’s Evan. Manny got the call, I gave him the money and he sent me to the men’s room. What’s going on?”
“The state cops are all over him,” Stone said. “We’ll be there in a minute.” He hung up. “Let’s go,” he said to Dino. They arrived inside the restaurant to see a lot of men standing around, talking on cell phones.
“Look for a gray Toyota,” one of them within earshot was saying.
“Woman driver.”
Stone went over to the booth where Evan was talking with a man in a suit. “What happened?” he asked. “Where’s Manny?”
Evan gave him a big shrug. “He handed me a note with instructions, I gave him the money and went to the men’s room. When I came back he was gone. The note said the job was done.”
“Shit,” Stone said.
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GI G I M O TO R E D I N TO Stuart Harbor faster than the law allowed.
“Head for the Pirate’s Cove Hotel Marina,” Larry said, pointing at a sign. “Pull up next to a ladder.”
She did so and climbed up the ladder.
Larry switched off the engine, and while holding on to the ladder with one hand and his duffel with the other, pushed the Whaler under the dock. “Walk, don’t run,” he said. “Hold my hand, and make conversation. Laugh.”
She did as she was told. They walked ashore and to the hotel’s garage.
“Look for something older, something eighties or nineties,” he said. She pointed at an elderly Lincoln Continental, and she followed his directions and got behind the wheel.
It took Larry less than half a minute to hotwire the car. “Back out and go slowly up the driveway,” he said. “Take your first left, then your fi rst right.”
Shortly, they were on A1A, driving south. Larry produced a cell phone and made a call. “Hello, sugar,” he said, “Plan B. Meet me at the place in fi fteen minutes.” He hung up. “That was my wife,” he said. “We’re going to dump this car a few miles down the road, then we’ll head south in our car. We’ll drop you in Florida City, where you can get a cab to Key Largo and your boat.”
“Okay,” she said. “Nobody knows where I am, so I can just say I’ve been on the boat the whole time.”
“That’s the girl,” Larry said.
FIFTE E N MINUTE S L ATE R he said, “Turn right, and drive behind the filling station.” The station was dark, having been closed for months.
She followed his instructions.
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“Stop here,” he said, “and flash your lights, then shut it down.”
She did so, and a car across the street flashed its lights.