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doesn t matter, she said, and headed up the on-ramp onto the Palmetto Expressway with the pedal to
the floor.  Oscar is still our best chance. If he tries to leave the area we ll pick him up, but until then
we need to stick with him to see what happens.
 Very good, a really terrific idea but what exactly do we think might happen?
 I don t know, Dexter! she snapped at me.  But we know this guy is a target sooner or later, all
right? And now he knows it, too. So maybe he s just trying to see if he s being followed before he
runs. Shit, she said, and swerved around an old flatbed truck loaded with crates of chickens. The
truck was going possibly thirty-five miles per hour, had no taillights, and three men sat on top of the
load, hanging on to battered hats with one hand and the load with the other. Deborah gave them a
quick blast of the siren as she pulled around them. It didn t seem to have any effect. The men on top of
the load didn t even blink.
 Anyway, she said as she straightened out the wheel and accelerated again,  Doakes wants us on the
Miami side for backup. So Oscar can t get too fancy. We ll run parallel along Biscayne.
It made sense; as long as Oscar was on Miami Beach, he couldn t escape in any other direction. If he
tried to dash across a causeway or head north to the far side of Haulover Park and cross, we were
there to pick him up. Unless he had a helicopter stashed, we had him cornered. I let Deborah drive, and
she headed north rapidly without actually killing anyone.
At the airport we swung east on the 836. The traffic picked up a little here, and Deborah wove in and
out, concentrating fiercely. I kept my thoughts to myself and she displayed her years of training with
Miami traffic by winning what amounted to a nonstop free-for-all high-speed game of chicken. We
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made it safely through the interchange with I-95 and slid down onto Biscayne Boulevard. I took a deep
breath and let it out carefully as Deborah eased back into street traffic and down to normal speed.
The radio crackled once and Doakes s voice came over the speaker.  Morgan, what s your twenty?
Deborah lifted the microphone and told him.  Biscayne at the MacArthur Causeway.
There was a short pause, and then Doakes said,  He s pulled over by the drawbridge at the Venetian
Causeway. Cover it on your side.
 Ten-four, Deborah said.
And I couldn t help saying,  I feel so official when you say that.
 What does that mean? she said.
 Nothing, really, I said.
She glanced at me, a serious cop look, but her face was still young and for just a moment it felt like we
were kids again, sitting in Harry s patrol car and playing cops and robbers except that this time, I got
to be a good guy, a very unsettling feeling.
 This isn t a game, Dexter, she said, because of course she shared that same memory.  Kyle s life is at
stake here. And her features dropped back into her Serious Large-Fish Face as she went on.  I know
it probably doesn t make sense to you, but I care about that man. He makes me feel so Shit. You re
getting married and you still won t ever get it. We had come to the traffic light at N.E. 15th Street
and she turned right. What was left of the Omni Mall loomed up on the left and ahead of us was the
Venetian Causeway.
 I m not very good at feeling things, Debs, I said.  And I really don t know at all about this marriage
thing. But I don t much like it when you re unhappy.
Deborah pulled off opposite the little marina by the old Herald building and parked the car facing back
toward the Venetian Causeway. She was quiet for a moment, and then she hissed out her breath and
said,  I m sorry.
That caught me a bit off guard, since I admit that I had been preparing to say something very similar,
just to keep the social wheels greased. Almost certainly I would have phrased it in a slightly more
clever way, but the same essence.  For what?
 I don t mean to I know you re different, Dex. I m really trying to get used to that and But you re
still my brother.
 Adopted, I said.
 That s horseshit and you know it. You re my brother. And I know you re only here because of me.
 Actually, I was hoping I d get to say  ten-four on the radio later.
She snorted.  All right, be an asshole. But thanks anyway.
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 You re welcome.
She picked up the radio.  Doakes. What s he doing?
After a brief pause, Doakes replied,  Looks like he s talking on a cell phone.
Deborah frowned and looked at me.  If he s running, who s he going to talk to on the phone?
I shrugged.  He might be arranging a way out of the country. Or 
I stopped. The idea was far too stupid to think about, and that should have kept it out of my head
automatically, but somehow there it was, bouncing off the gray matter and waving a small red flag.
 What? Deborah demanded.
I shook my head.  Not possible. Stupid. Just a wild thought that won t go away.
 All right. How wild?
 What if Now I did say this was stupid.
 It s a lot stupider to dick around like this, she snapped.  What s the idea?
 What if Oscar is calling the good Doctor and trying to bargain his way out? I said. And I was right; it
did sound stupid.
Debs snorted.  Bargain with what?
 Well, I said,  Doakes said he s carrying a bag. So he could have money, bearer bonds, a stamp
collection. I don t know. But he probably has something that might be even more valuable to our
surgical friend.
 Like what?
 He probably knows where everybody else from the old team is hiding.
 Shit, she said.  Give up everybody else in exchange for his life? She chewed on her lip as she
thought that over. After a minute she shook her head.  That s pretty far-fetched, she said.
 Far-fetched is a big step up from stupid, I said.
 Oscar would have to know how to get in touch with the Doctor.
 One spook can always find a way to get to another. There are lists and databases and mutual contacts,
you know that. Didn t you see Bourne Identity?
 Yeah, but how do we know Oscar saw it? she said.
 I m just saying it s possible.
 Uh-huh, she said. She looked out the window, thinking, then made a face and shook her head.  Kyle
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said something that after a while you d forget what team you were on, like baseball with free agency.
So you d get friendly with guys on the other side, and Shit, that s stupid.
 So whatever side Danco is on, Oscar could find a way to reach him.
 So fucking what. We can t, she said.
We were both quiet for a few minutes after that. I suppose Debs was thinking about Kyle and
wondering if we would find him in time. I tried to imagine caring about Rita the same way and came up
blank. As Deborah had so astutely pointed out, I was engaged and still didn t get it. And I never
would, either, which I usually regard as a blessing. I have always felt that it was preferable to think
with my brain, rather than with certain other wrinkled parts located slightly south. I mean, seriously,
don t people ever see themselves, staggering around drooling and mooning, all weepy-eyed and
weak-kneed and rendered completely idiotic over something even animals have enough sense to finish
quickly so they can get on with more sensible pursuits, like finding fresh meat?
Well, as we all agreed, I didn t get it. So I just looked out across the water to the subdued lights of the
homes on the far side of the causeway. There were a few apartment buildings close to the toll booth,
and then a scattering of houses almost as big. Maybe if I won the lottery I could get a real estate agent
to show me something with a small cellar, just big enough for one homicidal photographer to fit in
snugly under the floor. And as I thought it a soft whisper came from my personal backseat voice, but [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]