"You put up a hell of a fight, Max," Diaz said, his cop voice back on.
I shook my head, thinking of Brown poling his skiff out over the Glades in the moonlight.
"Anyway, Hammonds has already told us to find your pilot buddy Gunther," Richards said. "Seems he left the hospital and disappeared. But we think he might have headed home to New York State. We'll find him. It's not so easy to hide in the civilized world. But I guess you knew that."
"Yeah," I said. "I guess I knew that."
Both of them turned to leave, but Richards hesitated at the doorway and caught me with her green gray eyes. For a heartbeat I thought I felt an old emotion start to flicker across the room and then I watched as she loosened a strand of her blond hair and tucked it in place behind her ear.
"See ya," she said, and slipped out the door.
I heard Billy ask me if I was all right, maybe twice, before I finally turned to him as he pulled up a chair.
"You are a l-low maintenance cl-client, Max. But a high maintenance f-f-friend."
I tightened my mouth to a grin and thanked him.
"You m-may convalesce at m-my place," he said. "Ms. McIntyre and I are g-going on vacation to Paris. She w-wants to walk the c-city."
I didn't answer. I was staring at the sunlight painted on the wall and was already half in a dream. I must have been on the ocean because the horizon was curved and I could no longer hear the grinding. I must have been dreaming because I could feel a soft sea breeze and see Gulf Stream water the color of blue you could hold in the palm of your hand.