get her to help us. She's our last chance.”
Melinda's coming on to me was still fresh in my mind. She probably would agree to testify if I tricked her by lying about my feelings, but I wasn't going down that road.
“I'll try,” I said.
I got out and retrieved Buster from the backseat. Russo backed out of the spot and pulled up alongside me. He leaned out his open window.
“I'll be by later this afternoon with the transmitter, and we can run those list of partial license plates,” I said.
“You do that,” Russo said. “Oh, by the way. I don't take IOUs. You still owe me three hundred bucks for the repairs on my Suburban.” Before I could tell him I didn't have the money, Russo drove away.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The ocean had turned rough.
With my flippers propelling me through the choppy waves, I swam to the spot where I believed the transmitter had sunk, stopped to adjust my mask, and dove down.
Nearing the ocean floor, I stopped as a sand shark with a mouthful of frightening-looking teeth and small darting eyes swam past. Having spent my life swimming in Florida's waters, I'd encountered sharks many times and did not fear them. They were docile creatures, generally content to prey on smaller fish and roam with other sharks.
The sand shark left, and I resumed my search. The ocean floor was covered in a brownish silt. Hovering about it, I paddled my flippers and moved the silt around. Broken seashells and an assortment of bottles and rusted cans appeared before my eyes, but no transmitter. I paddled for a minute, then went up for air.
Breaking the surface, I spotted Sonny on the shoreline, holding a cordless phone in his hand while looking up and down the beach.
“Over here,” I yelled.
Seeing me, Sonny started to wave.
“I've got a phone call for you.”
“Who is it?”
“Kumar.”
“What's he want?”
“He's got a job for you, helping some couple find their lost kid.”
“Tell him I'm busy.”
“For Christ's sake, Jack. Ralph is coming by tomorrow. What am I going to tell him?”
Ralph was the Sunset's long-distance owner and made a monthly appearance to make sure the place hadn't burned down. Normally, Sonny didn't care about Ralph's visits, and I guessed he was afraid Ralph might fire him over the busted TV. The idea that Sonny might lose his job because of something I'd done didn't sit right with me.
“Tell Kumar I'll take it,” I yelled back.
“For real?”
“Yeah, for real.”
Sonny relayed the message, then ended the call.
“Kumar said the couple is coming to his restaurant, and you can meet them in his office,” Sonny yelled.
“Right now?”
“Yeah.”
I couldn't deal with Russo and try to help Kumar's friends at the same time. I decided Kumar's friends could wait, and dove back down.
Nearing bottom, I encountered another shark. This one was six feet long, with a yellowish brown tint, dual dorsal fins, and small pointed teeth. I decided it was an adult lemon shark, which were extremely rare. Fisherman believed lemon sharks brought good luck, and I was half tempted to rub my hand across its back.
Swimming away from the lemon shark, I picked another spot and started paddling my flippers. The silt lifted to reveal more garbage littering the ocean floor. The stuff was a distraction and made my task of finding the transmitter that much harder.
I repeated my routine several more times, then found myself growing frustrated. At this rate, it would take hours or even days to find the transmitter. There was even a chance I might never find it at all.
Then I had an idea. No one had seen the transmitter but me. The fact that I didn't have it anymore didn't matter. I'd get another transmitter, scuff it up, and present it to Russo as the original. It was the kind of crap dirty cops pulled all the time. Being desperate, I was willing to give it a try.
A pair of lemon sharks popped out from behind a coral ledge and began circling me. Sharks become aggressive only when antagonized, and I decided to wait them out. By conserving my movements, I could stretch the oxygen left in my lungs.
Soon more lemon sharks appeared. They continued to circle me, and I felt as if I were watching an underwater ballet. Seeing so many in one place was unusual, and I wondered what they were doing here. Had the water's warm temperature attracted them, or was it the ocean's salinity? Perhaps the females were in season, emitting strong chemical signals to their male suitors. Or maybe they'd been investigating tasty sacks of garbage dumped from a pleasure boat, and I'd spoiled their fun.
After a minute my lungs were aching, and I had no choice but to kick my legs and head up. To my great relief, the lemon sharks did not touch me. Moments before breaking the surface, I looked down and saw that they'd dispersed.
I threw on fresh clothes and drove to Tugboat Louie's. Sticking Buster in my office, I walked down to Kumar's office and knocked on the door. He bid me enter, and I poked my head in. Kumar and the couple with the missing child were waiting for me.
“Jack, Jack, we've been expecting you,” Kumar said.
Whenever I've annoyed people, they tend to say my name twice. I proffered a lame apology and entered. I was wearing frayed cargo pants and a Tommy Bahama shirt minus two buttons, and my hair was uncombed. The couple eyed me suspiciously.
Kumar introduced them. Amrita and Sanji Kahn. I put her age at forty, his over fifty. She was pretty, with nutmeg skin and clear amber eyes; he was overweight and brooding, with capped teeth that clashed with his jet- black turban. They both wore expensive country club clothes and matching platinum watches. Opening her purse, Amrita removed a snapshot and handed it to me. I knew it was of their missing daughter without having to look.
But I did look. Their daughter was sixteen going on twenty-five, with multiple rings in each ear, bee-stung lips, and a dazzling smile. She was as dark-skinned as her parents, but the sparkle in her eyes said all-American girl. I let the appropriate amount of time pass before handing the photograph back.
“Her name is Katrina,” her mother said.
“She's a very attractive young lady. How long has she been missing?”
“Three days,” her father said.
“Have either of you spoken to her?”
“I have,” Amrita said.
“Recently?”
“Last night. Actually, we didn't talk. My daughter posted a message for me on the National Runaway Hotline, and I responded and posted one for her.”
“So she wasn't abducted,” I said.
“Oh, no, this is nothing like that,” her father said.
“Her life is not endangered in any way?”
