sure.”
“Did Cecil pay you, Bonnie?”
Shamed by the question, Bonnie looked up at the ceiling. “He was going to give me five hundred dollars. I ain't worked in a while and needed the money to buy clothes for my boys. I thought I was doing the mother a favor. I been divorced. I know what it's like to fight for your kids.”
Bonnie started to cry. The tears were left to run their course, her hands pressed against the wall for support. I stepped back and cracked the door. Sally stood in the hallway with Brian. I gave her a thumbs-up. Sally and Brian exchanged jubilant high-fives, and I shut the door.
“Mister, will you answer a question for me?” Bonnie asked.
I already knew what the question was, and simply nodded.
“Am I going away? You know. To prison.”
The answer was yes. Her attorney might convince a judge that Bonnie was lied to and manipulated by Cecil, and if the attorney was any good, he'd get the most serious charges against her dropped. But in the end, Bonnie would do hard time.
But I wasn't going to tell Bonnie that. I was not her friend, and was every bit as cunning and deceptive as she was. It was the only way justice could be served.
“It all depends on how cooperative you are,” I said.
“I'll do whatever you want,” she said.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Jack Carpenter, I can't believe you talked me into doing this,” Sally scolded me a half hour later.
“Believe it,” I replied, my eyes glued to the road.
“But this is wrong. We're breaking the law.”
“What law is that?” I asked. “I just want to look inside Cecil Cooper's motel room before the police do. I won't touch anything or remove anything. I just want to see what the guy was up to. How is that breaking the law?”
“If the police find out, we're both screwed, and you know it.”
“I thought Disney owned the police.”
“That's not funny,” Sally said.
We were driving down motel row in Kissimmee, staring at god-awful billboards and elevated signs. There were more motels, putt-putt golf courses, and cheap family restaurants on this nine-mile strip of highway than anyplace else on earth. We were looking for the motel whose name was printed on the plastic room key that Sally had found tucked inside Cecil's billfold. The motel was called Sleep & Save, its logo a cartoon of a man lying in bed, dreaming of dollar signs. Bonnie had told me that she'd seen computer equipment in the room when she'd met up with Cecil that morning, and I wanted to examine the equipment before the police did.
A mile later, Sally spotted the motel and jumped in her seat. “There it is. Sandwiched between the IHOP and the Big Boy.”
I tapped my brakes while glancing in my mirror. A tourist driving a minivan was hugging my bumper, and I didn't want to get rear-ended. Seeing him slow down, I made my turn, parked in front of the Sleep & Save's main office, and killed the engine.
“Speaking of big boys, how's that guy you've been dating?” I asked.
“You mean Russ? Oh shit, I don't know.”
Back when Sally lived in Fort Lauderdale, she had a slew of boyfriends, each one a bigger loser than the last. After she moved to Orlando, I started hearing about a subcontractor named Russ, and I'd been rooting for it to work out.
“What's wrong?” I asked.
She gave me a sly look out of the corner of her eye. Guys wouldn't admit this, but it was those little looks from women that turned them on more than anything else. Sally had always turned me on, and always would.
“Sure you want to hear?” she asked.
“Yes. Russ sounded like a good guy.”
“He
“What for?”
“Possession of narcotics.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Can I ask you a personal question, Jack?”
I didn't like talking about my personal life, for no other reason than it's such a mess. I nodded reluctantly.
“Do you believe that criminals can be reformed?” Sally asked. “Is it possible for people to truly change their behavior?”
I leaned back in my seat, the sound making a soft
“I'd have to say no to both questions,” I answered.
Sally fell back in her seat as well.
“Well, that's a definitive answer.”
“Criminals don't reform,” I explained. “At least, not any I've encountered. They always walk around with larceny in their hearts. They might get scared into going straight, but they don't change. Now, let me ask you a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Is Russ really a criminal?”
“I told you, he's got a record and did time.”
“But is he a criminal? Does he walk around every day with bad intentions and evil thoughts? That's a criminal. Or is Russ a decent guy who did something dumb and has paid his debt to society? If that's the case, you ought to give him a break.”
“Aren't we being generous?” Sally said.
I turned and faced her. “I drove to Tampa this morning to apologize to my wife for fucking up our twenty-year marriage.
She forgave me. It was one of the nicest things anyone's ever done for me.”
“You're getting back together with Rose?”
I nodded, and Sally leaned across the seats and hugged me.
“Oh, Jack, I'm so happy for you.”
Sleep & Save was part of a nationwide chain, if the sign by the front desk was to be believed. In reality, it was a world-class dump, with rooms going for $29.99 a night and a bank of vending machines that sold soft drinks and candy in the main office.
The manager was a smiling Pakistani with two rows of perfect white teeth. He stood behind the counter, tapping the keyboard to a computer. Sally and I had worked several cases together, and I knew her well enough to let her take the lead. Pressing her stomach to the counter, she batted her eyelashes.
“Hi,” she said.
“Good afternoon,” the manager said brightly.
“Can you help me?”
“I will certainly try.”
“My brother is staying here, and we're supposed to be meeting him outside his room, only like a dummy I didn't write down the number when he gave it to me this morning. Can you help me?”
The manager stared at the Disney logo on Sally's shirt. Despite what Sally had said earlier, Disney ran Orlando and practically everything around it, and it wasn't uncommon for people to bend over backwards to help Disney employees. The manager flipped open the registration log lying on the desk.
