“It’s all going to work out,” said the man.
Anna set the cup down. “I feel even worse now.”
The man put a hand on hers in the middle of the table. “It’s over. You’re finally safe. Time will heal.”
“We could get the death penalty.”
“We’re not going to get caught. As long as neither one of us ever says anything. You can do that, can’t you?”
“I knew I couldn’t go through with it,” said Anna. “I knew I couldn’t shoot someone.”
“Then what were we doing there?”
“Jesus, you shot him in the eyes!”
“I was just aiming for the head.”
Anna’s stomach spasmed. “I’m getting another panic attack.”
“The Valium hasn’t kicked in.”
She poured more scotch.
“You’re going to make yourself sick.”
“I’m sick right now!” She fiddled with the sunglasses on the table. Her two black eyes had reached full bloom. She looked out the back window at the patio, which was the roof of the cistern. Her nose flared at the faint indication of the sulfur sticks that had been dropped in the tank for mosquitos. The man reached for her hand again. Drops of rain ran down the windows.
She pulled her arm away. “Why’d you grab the gun? Why’d you shoot him?”
“Because you didn’t.”
“I changed my mind. You heard him. He was ready to negotiate. And he started saying stuff about my brother that made no sense, a lot of stuff that made no sense, but you shot him before he could—”
“You think this is some kind of game? You think you can point a gun at someone like that and not shoot?”
“But we had his word….”
“You still don’t have any idea the type of person we were dealing with! He’s going to say anything! He’s not going to be grateful for sparing his life! He’s going to come after us first chance he gets!”
“So fucking what? I was already on the run.”
“But I wasn’t! I tried to talk you out of this, remember? Then I’m standing there watching you lose your nerve, and I’m like, shit, that’s my ass right there! Once you raised that gun, you wrote the future. Him or us.”
Quiet again. No lights on inside the house, just what was coming through the windows from the overcast dawn, suspending the house in an off-balance gray. It was actually a pretty nice day to be alive in the Keys. Curl up with a book, listen to the rain, watch the weather.
“I hate this. It looks like shit out there.”
“Are you going to be able to keep it together?”
“Why?” said Anna. “Are you going to kill me, too?”
The man looked down.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“You don’t need to say anything.”
“No, you’ve been too good to me.”
“I’ll always be there for you. You know that.”
This time, her hand reached across the table. “That’s why I called the other day. That’s why I called before, you know….”
They looked at each other. History. Countless sobbing phone calls when Billy started hitting her up in Fort Pierce. More tears in person at coffee shops. Then, lovers.
Anna grabbed the scotch. She decided not to pour and put it down. “The Valium’s working.”
“Good.”
She began picking at a corner of the bottle’s black label. “I recognized him.”
“Who?”
“Scarface.”
“You did?”
“Up in Fort Pierce. From the marina. He was one of the guys who came around a couple times. But he was just one of the loaders. I don’t get it.”
“He did that sometimes.”
“You said he never met anyone.”
“Not as Scarface. Because he didn’t trust anyone. But since almost nobody knew what he looked like, it allowed him to move invisibly through his own organization to make sure nobody was skimming, which they always were. A lot of guys ended up dead and never knew why.”
The man checked his watch. Getting near eight. He grabbed the scotch.
“I thought you weren’t drinking.”
“So did I.” He looked across the terrazzo of the vacation home that used to belong to Anna’s brother. “You decided to stay here after all.”
“With Scarface gone, there’s no reason not to.”
The man drained his cup and poured again.
“You’re making up for lost time.”
There was a purpose. He finished the second drink and let it work. The clouds finally let loose outside. Rain pounded the windows at a hard angle.
“I have a confession to make.”
Anna stretched and yawned from the medicine.
“My motives weren’t entirely pure.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I wanted to protect you and everything. I really liked your brother….”
“Yeah?”
“Remember the rumors I told you about? Rick putting money away with Scarface — Fernandez, whoever. It wasn’t a rumor. I knew it for a fact.”
Anna looked confused.
“For some reason Fernandez liked your brother. Or at least trusted him. Or didn’t. But your brother was sharp. He knew this wouldn’t last forever… he had to put something away. Sometimes we’d go drinking after bringing a boat in. Fernandez was always asking him questions about money. He finally let your brother know who he really was. That might have gotten him killed.”
Anna’s breathing shallowed. She grabbed the scotch again. Rain sheeted on the glass.
“Fernandez and Rick got some money together. I know you didn’t know. It’s at least three million, maybe four. I don’t know where it is. Well, I do, sort of. There’s a safety deposit box—”
Anna raised the cup to her mouth with both hands.
“The box contains instructions in case anything ever happened to Rick. Some of the money was your husband’s, except your brother knew Billy would just gamble it. So he put it away for you. There are four names on the deposit box. Fernandez, your brother and his wife. And you — you’re the only one still alive to claim it.”
Anna was grabbing the edge of the table. “H-how do you know all this?”
“Your brother knew about you and me being… together. He could just tell. It almost made him feel better knowing I was there for you because he’d already given up on Billy. A few times he came close to killing him over the beatings he gave you. He came to me one day, asked if anything happened to him, that I’d tell you about the box. Made me swear.”
Anna just sat there; too much to process at once.
“You’re going to hate me for what I’m going to say next, so I’m just going to say it….” He looked her straight in the eyes. “I want Fernandez’s share. You can have the rest.”
“Jesus, Jerry!”
“I don’t like this any better. But I’m practical. We don’t have much time before the police find out their guy in the morgue has a deposit box. Then it’s gone for good.”
“But how can you think about money at a time like this?”
“I’ll tell you how! I’ve been sitting here for years, watching Fernandez over in his fancy house getting rich and fat while I work a shitty job fetching drinks for a bunch of tourists I have to pretend to like. That’s how. I want mine! I deserve it!”
Anna pressed back in her chair. “What’s wrong with you?”
Jerry the bartender poured another scotch. “You have to go to the bank.”
“I’m not going anywhere!”
“Yes, you are. We’re in this together now.” He raised the cup to his mouth. “You will be going to the bank.”
“But what about the murder? Shouldn’t we be lying low?”
“We don’t have to worry about that.”
“Why not?”
Jerry reached in his pocket and set a brass bank key on the table. “I fixed it so they suspect someone else.”
35
Monday evening: six-thirty
SERGE WAS IN the living room of the love nest, checking his wristwatch. Molly was in the bathroom. A car honked outside.
Serge looked out the curtains. Coleman.
“Honey!… I’m leaving for my meeting. Love you!…” He grabbed the doorknob.