'I think so. Let me make a call.'
I dialed Mendosa's number and identified myself to the answering machine. A moment later, my cell phone rang.
'This is Matt Royal. I'd like to meet with the people you're holding for me.'
'Hold, please,' the voice said.
He came back on the line. 'Where are you?'
'I'm at the Coast Guard station on Trumbo Road.'
'Stand out front. A car will be there in five minutes.'
'I have a friend with me.'
'Hold, please.'
Then, 'Mr. Mendosa says if you vouch for him, bring him along.' He hung up.
'They'll be here in a couple of minutes,' I said.
Jock nodded. 'I'll leave it to you then. I have some talking to do to the Reverend Simmermon.' He walked into the building, leading Peggy by the hand.
'Who are the people on the phone?' Logan said.
'They're friends of Cracker Dix's.'
Logan laughed. 'That doesn't sound good.'
'They're solid people, and they owe Cracker. He called in part of the debt to help me.'
'Good of Cracker,' said Logan, a wry grin softening his face.
The sun was trying to rise out of the Atlantic. The sky was brightening over the little city, the harbinger of the sun's rays, signaling another day for the revelers who come to Key West to drink and party. I thought it was going to be a beautiful morning. I wondered what was happening on Blood Island. I hoped it wasn't going to be a blood bath.
The black Lincoln Town Car glided to a stop in front of us. The same driver who'd met me on Roosevelt Avenue was behind the wheel. He got out and said, 'Good to see you, Mr. Royal.'
'Good to see you again. This is Logan Hamilton. Also a friend of Cracker's.'
They shook hands, and Logan and I got in the backseat. We headed northeast, out of the city. We came to a sign announcing that we were on Big Coppitt Key. We turned off U.S. 1 onto a residential street. We stopped in front of a large house at the end of the street. A garage door opened and the Lincoln eased into the space and stopped.
'We're here,' said the driver.
We got out and followed him into the house, through a large kitchen and into the living room. One wall was mostly windows, giving a view through a stand of trees down to Florida Bay.
The house sat on a large lot, much larger than you would expect to find in the Keys. The trees all around gave it a sense of seclusion.
Mendosa was sitting in an easy chair sipping coffee, the morning paper on his lap. He rose as we entered the room. I introduced Logan, and said, 'I need to talk to your guests. It's very important.'
'Certainly. I'll take you to them, but they may not be in a mood to talk. Perhaps we should have a plan in case they won't cooperate.'
'Aren't you interested in why we're here?'
'Of course I am, but it'd be rude to ask. I don't need to know. Probably don't want to know.' He grinned.
I nodded. 'You're probably right.'
We talked for a few more minutes, and then Mendosa led Logan and me down a hallway to a bedroom. The room was bare except for a bed. A large window looked out over the backyard. I could see beyond the trees to the bay, shimmering in the early light. The backyard was a study in shadows cast by the rising sun. Michelle was lying on the bed, fully clothed and wide-awake.
'Good morning, sunshine,' I said.
She looked at me, hate darting from her eyes like lightning. 'Asshole,' she said through clenched teeth. 'You broke my jaw'
'Sorry. I'd like you to meet my friend Logan.'
'Another asshole.'
Logan smiled. 'Nice to meet you too, ma'am.'
'I've got a few questions,' I said.
Michelle turned her head away from me. 'I've got nothing to say.'
I looked at Mendosa. 'Would you be kind enough to ask Mr. Calhoun to join us?'
He left and returned with one of his men holding Charlie Calhoun by the arm, his hands cuffed behind his back.
I said, 'Good morning, Mr. Calhoun. I'd offer to shake hands, but you seem a little distracted.'
He stared straight ahead. 'Fuck you, Royal.'
'Charlie,' I said, 'I'm going to ask you some questions. You get one try at answering truthfully. If you don't, you pay the consequences.'
Michelle mumbled through her clenched jaw. 'Don't say a word, Charlie.'
I looked at Charlie. 'You've got one chance. Don't blow it.'
'Fuck you, Royal.'
I smiled at him. 'You've got a limited vocabulary. Tell me what the Rev is going to blow up.'
A look of puzzlement, or maybe just stupidity, crossed his face. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'
'Charlie, don't be stupid. If you help me, you'll be helping yourself.'
'Go to hell, Royal.'
I turned to Mendosa. 'Would you be kind enough to take this cretin out back and have him shot?'
'Certainly,' said Mendosa, and nodded to the man who'd brought Charlie to us.
Charlie looked at me with a knowing grin. He didn't think we'd do it. People who lurk on the edges of civilization know that their greatest protection from the wrath of society is the unwillingness of good people to do bad things. Sometimes, the lurkers misjudge.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Logan followed Charlie and his keeper out of the room. They reappeared on the lawn outside the window. Mendosa's man moved out of my line of sight, leaving Charlie and Logan standing alone on the grass.
'You might want to watch this,' I said to Michelle.
Logan was standing behind the handcuffed Charlie. He raised a pistol to the back of Charlie's neck. The sound of a gunshot rattled the glass in the window. Charlie dropped loosely to the ground, like a bag ofpota- toes. Logan turned and walked out of our view.
Michelle screamed as the gunshot sounded. 'My God! You shot Charlie.'
'You're next, Michelle,' I said. 'I'm tired of fooling around. Tell me what I want to know and you live. Lie to me, you die. It's that simple.'
She was sitting on the side of the bed, hands in her lap. They were shaking. Her face was twisted in a rictus of fear. Tears were sliding down her cheeks. Reality had come home to Michelle, and she didn't like it.
'I don't want to die,' she said.
I sat on the bed beside her. I reached out and took her hand. 'I don't want you to die either. Tell me what Simmermon is doing.'
She caught her breath, swallowed a sob. 'I'm not real sure. He's been crazy lately. Says God's talking to him and telling him to kill the heathens.'
'How does he plan to do that?'
'I think he's got some of those kids convinced to use themselves as suicide bombers. He's planning to blow up churches.'
