Gator A-GO-GO

“But this evening?” said Country. “Will that mess it up?”

“We’re booked pretty solid,” lied Rood. “But I think we can fit you in.”

The women huddled and whispered. They smiled and giggled in Rood’s direction, then whispered some more.

“What are you ladies talking about?” asked Rood.

“Uh… could we…”-Country lowered her head and feigned bashfulness-“… talk to you in private?”

Rood smirked at his assistant. “Be right back.”

“Go get ’em, tiger.”

He walked a few steps. “What is it?”

“We’d kind of like to ask a favor,” said City.

Uh-oh, thought Rood. Here it comes. Money. “What kind of favor?”

“You’re cute,” said Country. “I’d like to get to know you better.”

“Me?”

She blushed and looked down again. “I’ve never… been with a celebrity before.”

Rood almost choked. “That’s the favor? You want to spend some time?”

The women smiled at each other.

This time Rood did choke.

“Need a glass of water?”

Rood shook his head. “You mean both of you?”

They nodded eagerly.

He gulped and blinked hard. “Think I can clear the suite for a bit.”

“No.” Country pointed toward one of the resort’s upper floors. “Our room.”

“Why?”

“That’s where we have all our… toys.”

Rood became woozy. “What time are you free?”

“Say nine?”

“Nine’s my favorite number.”

The women waved as they sauntered away. “Don’t be late.”

Rood walked back to the bus and braced himself with an arm against the door.

“Jesus,” said the assistant. “You look like you’re about to have a stroke.”

“They want a threesome.”

“Them? Holy shit.”

“And just when I started to think life wasn’t fair.”

THAT EVENING

Two men sat in an idling Delta 88 with the lights off. Into their second hour with little conversation. Watching the high-rise hotel a block away.

“Don’t like the looks of this,” said Miguel. “I think it’s a trap.”

“I know it’s a trap,” said Guillermo.

“Then what are we doing here?”

“Every trap is an opportunity to set your own trap.”

“So that’s why you’re wearing a room service uniform?”

“Nothing gets by you.”

“Who is this Serge guy anyway?”

“A nuisance we can no longer afford.” He looked at the car’s analog clock and grabbed his door handle. “It’s time.”

“He said an hour from now.”

“That’s why it’s time.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll be fine. Just make sure not to fuck up your end.” He patted his jacket pocket. “Call me on the cell if it looks like I’m made on the way-or if anything else is out of place once I’m inside.” He hopped out.

Miguel watched as Guillermo waited for traffic to clear before jogging across A1A, still moist and shining in the moonlight from an earlier rain. Miguel picked up binoculars, tracking his colleague. Guillermo avoided the main lobby entrance and circled to the pool deck. Binoculars slowly panned the main entrance. Tourists unsteadily getting out of a cab and laughing. Idiots. The magnified field of vision drifted southward over the parking lot. A family at an open trunk struggled with a stubborn baby stroller that wouldn’t close. Miguel smiled. Farther, a bum on a park bench. Worth watching. Common stakeout disguise. A romantic couple strolled past the bench and suddenly high- stepped as the bum vomited explosively toward their feet. Well, there’s undercover and then there’s what can’t be faked. The binoculars moved on, reaching the street straight out the windshield in front of him. Coast clear. Time to pan back the other way.

Suddenly, his entire view was filled with a crazy, smiling face. “Ahhhhh!” Miguel jumped back in his seat and dropped the binoculars.

Serge waved manically, wearing his most tattered comfy T-shirt and sweat pants. He walked around and tapped the side glass.

Miguel hit an electric level, lowered the window a slit. “Get lost!”

“I’m not asking for money or to clean your windshield with spit.”

“I said, get lost!”

“Just need a light. Mine got all wet when I was caught in the rain.”

“Are you deaf?”

“It’s only a stupid light.”

The window rolled up.

Serge knocked on the glass. Miguel stared straight ahead. Serge knocked and knocked. His voice was muted through the closed window: “Be a neighbor.”

“Goddamn it!” Miguel lowered it a slit again. “I’m warning you!”

“We’re wasting time arguing, when I could already be long gone. Just a light. Come on.”

“Fuck it.” Miguel reached in a hip pocket for his Zippo, opened the window the rest of the way and held it outside. “Where’s your cigarette?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Then why’d you ask for a light?”

“To keep your hands busy and away from the gun. You’re the lookout.”

“Shit!” Miguel went for the piece in his jacket but stopped when he felt a cold barrel on his cheek.

Chapter Forty-Five

NINE O’CLOCK

Rood had been waiting by the bus since eight, wearing his sexiest, tightest slacks and a silk shirt. He checked his watch again.

9:01.

Two women trotted across the street.

“There you are,” said Rood.

“Worried we were going to be late?”

“Not for a second.”

He took one on each arm. “Shall we?”

The trio strolled up the drive and through the resort’s automatic lobby doors.