chiaasen.stormyweather-第43章

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n　for　the　Cherokee。　Augustine　had　made　a　point　of　memorizing　the　new　tag：　PPZ…350。　Save　the　Manatee。
　
　He　picked　up　the　kitchen　phone　to　get　the　number　for　the　Highway　Patrol。　That's　when　he　noticed　his　old　friend；　the　redial　button。
　
　He'd　learned　the　trick　while　keeping　house　with　the　demented　surgical　intern；　the　one　who　ultimately　knifed　him　in　the　shower。　Whenever　he　found　her　gone；　Augustine　would　touch　the　redial　button　to　determine　if　she'd　been　phoning　around　town　to　score　more　Dilaudid；　or　pawn　items　stolen　from　his　house。　Before　long　he　was　able　to　recognize　the　voices　of　her　various　dope　dealers　and　fences；　before　hanging　up。　In　that　way；　the　redial　button　had　been　a　valuable　tool　for　predicting　his　girlfriend's　moods　and　tracing　missing　property。
　
　So　he　punched　it　now；　to　find　out　the　last　number　dialed　from　15600　Calusa　before　Skink　and　Bonnie　disappeared。　After　three　rings；　a　friendly　female　voice　answered：　〃Paradise　Palms。　Can　I　help　you？〃
　
　Augustine　hesitated。　He　knew　of　only　one　Paradise　Palms；　a　seaside　motel　down　in　Islamorada。　He　gave　it　a　shot。　〃My　brother　just　called　a　little　while　ago。　From　Miami。〃
　
　〃Oh　yes。　Mister　Horn's　friend。〃
　
　〃Pardon　me？〃
　
　〃The　owner。　Mister　Horn。　Your　brother's　name　is　Lester？〃
　
　〃Right；〃　said　Augustine；　flying　blind。
　
　〃He's　the　only　Miami　booking　we've　had　today。　Did　he　want　to　cancel？〃
　
　〃Oh　no；〃　Augustine　said。　〃No；　I　just　want　to　make　sure　the　reservation　is　all　set。　See；　we're　supposed　to　surprise　him　down　there…it's　his　birthday　tomorrow。　We're　going　to　take　him　deep…sea　fishing。〃
　
　The　woman　at　the　motel　said　the　dolphin　were　hitting　offshore；　and　advised　him　to　try　the　docks　at　Bud　'n'　Mary's　to　arrange　a　charter。　〃Would　you　like　me　to　call　over　there？〃
　
　〃No；　that's　all　right。〃
　
　〃Does　Mister　Horn　know？〃
　
　〃Know　what？〃　said　Augustine。
　
　〃That　it's　Lester's　birthday。　He'll　be　so　sorry　he　missed　it…he's　in　Tampa　on　business。〃
　
　〃Oh；　that's　too　bad；〃　Augustine　said。　〃I　meant　to　ask…what　time's　my　brother　getting　in？　So　we　can　make　sure　everything's　arranged。　You　know；　for　the　surprise　party。〃
　
　〃Of　course。　He　told　us　to　expect　him　late　this　afternoon。〃
　
　〃That's　perfect。〃
　
　〃And　don't　you　worry。　I　won't　say　a　word　to　spoil　it。〃
　
　Augustine　said；　〃Ma'am；　I　cannot　thank　you　enough。〃
　
　After　a　day　of　inept　drinking　and　arduous　self…pity；　Max　Lamb　took　a　flight　from　Guadalajara　to　Miami。　There　he　intended　to　quit　smoking；　reclaim　his　brainwashed　spouse　and　reconstruct　his　life。　Another　honeymoon　was　essential…but；　this　time；　someplace　far　from　Florida。
　
　Hawaii；　Max　thought。　Maybe　even　Australia。
　
　His　head　was　a　cinder　block。　The　tequila　hangover　fueled　vivid；　horrific　dreams　on　the　plane。　Once　he　awakened　clawing　at　an　invisible　shock　collar；　his　neck　on　fire。　In　the　nightmare　it　was　Bonnie　and　not　the　kidnapper　wielding　the　Tri…Tronics　remote　control；　diabolically　pushing　the　buttons。　An　hour　later　came　another　dream；　again　his　wife。　This　time　they　were　making　love　on　the　deck　of　an　airboat；　skimming　across　the　Everglades　under　a　blue　porcelain　sky。　Bonnie　was　on　top　of　him　with　her　eyes　half　open；　the　sawgrass　whipping　her　cheeks。　Clinging　to　her　bare　shoulder　was　a　monkey…the　same　psoriatic　pest　that　Max　had　videotaped　after　the　hurricane！　In　the　dream；　Max　couldn't　see　the　face　of　the　airboat　driver；　but　believed　it　was　the　quiet　young　man　who　juggled　skulls。　As　Bonnie　bucked　her　hips；　the　vile　monkey　hung　on　like　a　tiny　wrangler。　Suddenly　it　rose　on　its　hind　legs　to　display　a　miniature　pink　erection。　That's　when　Max　screamed　and　woke　up。　He　was　wide…eyed　but　calmer　by　the　time　the　plane　landed。
　
　Then；　at　the　Miami　airport；　his　tequila　phantasms　were　reignited　by　a　newspaper　headline：
　
　Remains　in　Fox　Hollow　Identified　as　Mob　Figure；　Believed　Mauled；　Devoured　by　Escaped　Cat。
　
　Max　bought　the　paper　and　read　the　story　in　horror。　A　gangster　named　Ira　Jackson　had　been　gobbled　by　a　wild　lion　that　broke　out　of　a　wildlife　farm　during　the　storm。　The　gruesome　details　heightened　the　urgency　of　Max's　mission。
　
　He　arrived　at　Augustine's　home　with　a　prepared　speech　and；　if　necessary；　a　legal　threat。　The　lights　were　off。　Nobody　answered　the　door。　In　the　absence　of　confrontation；　Max　was　emboldened　to　slip　around　to　the　backyard。
　
　The　sliding　glass　door　on　the　porch　was　unlocked。　Inside　the　house；　it　was　stuffy　and　warm。　Max　started　the　air　conditioner　and　turned　on　every　lamp　he　could　find。　He　wanted　to　advertise　his　presence；　he　didn't　want　to　be　found　creeping　through　the　halls　in　darkness；　like　a　mon　burglar。
　
　Thrilled　by　his　own　daring；　Max　bed　the　place　for　signs　of　his　wife。　Hanging　in　a　closet　was　the　outfit　she'd　worn　on　the　day　he　was　kidnapped。　Since　the　rental　car　had　been　looted　of　their　belongings；　Max　reasoned　that　Bonnie　must　now　be　wearing　somebody　else's　clothes；　or　her　folks　had　wired　some　cash…or　perhaps　Augustine　had　bought　her　an　expensive　new　wardrobe。　Wasn't　that　what　wife…stealers　did？
　
　Max　Lamb　forced　himself　to　enter　the　guest　room。　He　purposely　avoided　the　wall　of　skulls；　but　shuddered　anyway　under　the　dissipated　stares。　He　was　pleased　to　find　the　bed　linens　rumpled　exclusively　on　the　left　side…　Bonnie's　favorite。　A　depression　in　the　lone　pillow　seemed；　upon　inspection；　to　match　the　shape　of　a　young　woman's　head。　The　bed　showed　no　manifest　evidence　of　male　visitation。
　
　An　oak　dresser　yielded　an　assortment　of　female　clothing；　from　bras　to　blue　jeans；　in　an　intriguing　range　of　sizes。　Relics　of　Augustine's　ex…girlfriends；　Max　assumed。　One　of　them　must　have　stood　six　feet　two；　judging　by　the　Amazonian　cut　of　her　black　exercise　leggings。　Max　located　several　petite　items　that　would　have　fit　his　wife；　including　a　pair　of　powder…blue　sweat　socks　in　a　tidy　mound　on　the　hardwood　floor。　His　outlook　improved；　at　least　she　was　wearing　borrowed　clothes。
　
　He　steeled　himself　for　the　next　survey：　Augustine's　room。
　
　The　man's　bed　looked　like　a　grenade　had　been　set　off　under　the　sheets。　Max　Lamb　thought：　He's　either　having　fantastic　sex　or　horrible　nightmares。　The　disarray　made　it　impossible　to　determine　if　two　persons　had　shared　the　mattress；　the　cast　of　A　Chorus　Line　could　have　slept　there；　for　all　Max　could　tell。
　
　Uncertainty　nibbled　at　his　ego。　He　got　an　idea…　distasteful　but　effective。　He　bent　over　Augustine's　bed　and　put　his　nose　to　the　linens　whiffing　for　a　trace　of　Bonnie's　perfume。　Uncharacteristically；　Max　Lamb　couldn't　recall　the　brand　name　of　the　fragrance；　but　he'd　never　forget　its　orchard　scent。
　
　He　sniffed　in　imaginary　grids；　starting　at　the　headboard　and　working　his　way　down　the　mattress。　An　explosive　sneeze　announced　his　findings：　Paco　Rabanne　for　men。　Max　recognized　the　scent　because　he　wore　it　himself　（in　spite　of　a　near…incapacitating　allergy）　every　Monday；　for　the　sixth…floor　meetings　at　Rodale。
　
　Paco　and　laundry　bleach；　that's　all　Max　detected　on　Augustine's　sheets。
　
　One　more　place　to　check：　the　wastebasket　in　the　bathroom。　Grimly　Max　pawed　through　the　litter：　no　used　condoms；　thank　God。
　
　Later；　stretched　out　on　Augustine's　sofa；　Max　realized　that　Bonnie's　faithfulness；　or　possible　lack　thereof；　wasn't　the　most　pressing　issue。　It　was　her　sanity。　Somehow　they'd　snowed　her；　those　madmen。　Like　some　weird　cult…one　eats　road　pizza；　the　other　fo'ndles　human　skulls。
　
　How　could　such　a　bright　girl　let　herself　be　brainwashed　by　such　freaks！
　
　Max　Lamb　decided　on　a　bold　move。　He　posed　a　script　for　himself　and　rehearsed　it　for　an　hour　before　picking　up　the　phone。　Then　he　dialed　the　apartment　in　New　York　and　left　the　message　for　his　wandering　wife。　The　ultimatum。
　
　Afterwards　Max　called　back　to　hear　how　it　sounded　on　the　answering　machine。　His　voice　was　so　steely　that　he　scarcely　recognized　himself。
　
　Excellent；　he　thought。　Just　what　Bonnie　needs　to　hear。
　
　If　only　she　calls。
　
　Avila's　wife　snidely　announced　that　his　expensive　san…teria　goats　were　in　the　custody　of　Animal　Control。　One　had　been　captured　grazing　along　the　shoulder　of　the　Don　Shula　Expressway；　while　the　other　had　turned　up　at　a　car　wash；　butting　its　horns　through　the　grillwork　of　a　leased　Jaguar　sedan。　Avila's　wife　said　it　made　the　Channel　7　news。
　
　〃So？　What　do　you　want　me　to　do？〃　Avila　demanded。
　
　〃Oh；　forget　about！　Three　hundred　dollars；　chew　jess　forget　about！〃
　
　〃You　want　me　to　steal　the　goats　back？　OK；　tonight　I'll　drive　to　the　animal　shelter　and　break　down　the　fence　and　kidnap　the　damn　things。　That　make　you　happy？　While　I'm　there　I'll　grab　you　some　kittens　and　puppies；　too。　Maybe　a　big　fat　guinea　pig　for　your　mother；　no？〃
　
　〃I　hate　chew！　I　hate　chew！〃
　
　Avila　shook　his　head。　〃Here　we　go　again。〃
　
　〃Chew　and　Chango；　your　faggot　orichal〃
　
　〃Louder；〃　Avila　said。　〃Maybe　you　can　wake　some　of　your　dead　relatives　in　Havana。〃
　
　The　phone　rang。　He　picked　it　up　and　turned　his　back　on　his　wife；　who　hurled　a　can　of　black　beans　and　stormed　from　the　kitchen　in　a　gust　of　English　expletives。
　
　It　was　Jasmine　on　the　line。　She　asked；　〃What's　all　that　noise？〃
　
　〃Marriage；〃　Avila　said。
　
　〃Well；　love；　I'm　sitting　here　with　Bridget；　and　guess　where　we're　going　tonight。〃
　
　〃To　blow　somebody？〃
　
　〃God；　look　who's　in　a　piss…poor　mood。〃
　
　〃Sorry；〃　Avila　said。　〃It's　been　a　shitty　day。〃
　
　〃We're　driving　to　the　Keys。〃
　
　〃Yeah？〃
　
　〃To　meet　your　friend；〃　said　Jasmine。
　
　〃No　shit？　Where？〃
　
　〃Some　motel　on　the　ocean。　Can　you　believe　he's　payin'　the　both　of　us　to　baby…sit　some　old…timer。〃
　
　〃Who？〃　Avila　couldn't　imagine　what　new　scam　Snapper　was　running。
　
　Jasmine　said；　〃Just　some　yutz；　I　don't　know。　We're　supposed　to　keep　him　busy　for　a　couple　days；　take　some　dirty　pictures。　Five　hundred　each　is　what　your　friend's　giving　us。〃
　
　〃Geez；　that　sucks。〃
　
　〃Business　is　slow；　sweetie。　The　hurricane　turned　all　our　regulars　into　decent；　faithful；　God…fearing　family　men。〃
　
　Avila　heard　Bridget's　giggle　in　the　background。　Jasmine　said；　〃So　five　hundred　looks　pretty　sweet　right　about　now。〃
　
　〃You　can　double　it　if　you　give　up　the　name　of　the　motel。〃
　
　〃Why　do　you　think　we　called？　Aren't　you　proud　of　me？〃
　
　Avila　said；　〃You're　the　best。〃
　
　〃But　listen；　honey；　we　need　to　know…〃
　
　〃Let　me　talk　to　Bridget。〃
　
　〃Nope；　we　want　to　know　what　you　got　in　mind。　Because　both　of　us　are　on　probation；　as　usual…〃
　
　〃Don't　worry；〃　Avila　said。
　
　〃…and　we　don't　need　no　more　trouble；　legally　speaking。〃
　
　〃Relax；　I　said。〃
　
　〃You　ain't　gonna　kill　this　guy？〃
　
　〃Which　guy…Snapper？　Hell；　no；　he　owes　me　money　is　all。　What　time　are　you　meeting　him？〃
　
　Jasmine　said；　〃Around　eight。〃
　
　Avila　checked　his　wristwatch。　〃You　girls　ain't　gonna　make　Key　West　by　eight　o'clock　unless　you　got　a　rocket　car。〃
　
　〃Not　Key　West；　honey。　Islamorada。〃
　
　It　was　seventy…five　miles　closer；　but　Avila　still　wasn't　certain　he　could　get　there　in　time。　First　he　had　to　make　an　offering；　such　a　momentous　trip　was　unthinkable　without　an　offering。
　
　He　said；　〃Jasmine；　what's　the　name　of　the　motel？〃
　
　〃Not　till　you　promise　me　and　Bridget　won't　get　in　trouble。〃
　
　〃Jesus；　I　already　told