Amy slipped past Rusty and picked up the TV remote, turning up the sound on the TV over the bar. The image on the screen was from a helicopter that had been covering the race. As the camera zoomed in, I watched myself leap the safety barrier, Savannah right behind me.
“Earlier today, in the middle of the Seven Mile Bridge Race, two unidentified runners jumped off the bridge to rescue a boy who was adrift in a small boat. Authorities speculate that the boy is a Cuban refugee who’d been adrift for several days. A spokesperson at Fishermen’s Community Hospital said only that the boy is alive and will recover but will remain hospitalized for observation. More tonight at six. This is Camilla Crawford, ABC Action News, reporting.”
“Sounds like he’ll be okay,” Amy said, answering Rusty’s question. “But didn’t you say the little boy didn’t speak Spanish?”
“He only said a few words,” Savannah replied. “But he spoke English, and I didn’t detect any accent.”
We were alone in the bar, but I leaned in conspiratorially. “I think they’re saying that because the kid had been beaten. They probably don’t want whoever did it to know he’s alive.”
Rusty shook his head sadly. “Somebody beat him up, then set him adrift in a leaky boat to die. Animals.”
There were other scenarios.
“Maybe he got in the boat himself,” I said. “To get away. The doctors think his amnesia might be temporary. Until he comes out of it, nobody will know.”
The door opened and Deputy Fife strolled in, followed closely by Detective Clark Andersen, who I’d met back in December.
“Mr. and Mrs. McDermitt,” Fife said, approaching us. “This is—”
“Detective Andersen,” I said, rising from my stool.
I shook hands with them both and introduced the others.
“Any word on the kid?” I asked.
“He’ll pull through,” Andersen said. “I’ve been assigned the investigation.”
“Like I told Deputy Fife, we don’t know anything more about him than you do.”
Andersen shifted his feet, then looked over at Savannah for a second. He was uncomfortable. “The thing is, I want to ask you a favor.”
Andersen had been the lead investigator when Cobie Murphy had gone missing before Thanksgiving. He didn’t progress much beyond finding her car and it was parked at the place where she worked—the first place they looked. Since she’d been found, he and I had talked a few times.
“A favor?” Savannah asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, swallowing, and causing his Adam’s apple to bob. “We’re completely blind here. The victim can’t even tell us who he is, much less who did this to him. It could be almost anyone.”
“What’s the favor?” I asked.
“The doctor said he could be healthy enough to leave in just a few days. The kid’s already eating everything in sight. The temporary hospital isn’t set up for long term, non-emergency care and he doesn’t warrant being transferred to another hospital up island. Apparently, his amnesia is psychological and doesn’t have anything to do with being beat up.”
Savannah’s hand went to her mouth as she gasped audibly. “Where would he go? He can’t be any more than five or six.”
“The doctor said he’s closer to eight,” Andersen said. “He thinks the kid’s been treated badly for most of his life. He said he looks younger than his teeth show. That’s how they tell the age of a kid’s bod—um—he just thinks he’s older than he looks.”
“Bless his little heart,” Savannah said softly.
“The thing is,” Andersen began, “we don’t want him to go into foster care until we know for sure who he is.”
Rusty leaned on the bar. “I wouldn’t want my worst enemy’s kid to go into South Florida’s foster system.”
Andersen looked over at Rusty. “That’s why I’m here.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Andersen turned to face me, squaring his shoulders with his hands clasped in front, almost like what Pap would have called “hat in hand” or contrite, except Andersen didn’t have a hat.
“I’d like to ask you if the boy might be able to stay with you,” he said. “I know you live off the grid up in the Contents, and I checked you out. The kid’ll be safer there than anywhere I know of.”
“Wait just a sec—”
“We’ll do it,” Savannah blurted out, cutting me off. “You can bring him up or we’ll come get him, whenever he’s ready.”
“Savannah,” I said, looking over at her.
When she turned my way, the look in her eyes froze any further words that were forming in my mouth.
“He’ll stay with us, Jesse. And that’s all there is to it.”
“But—”
“Was there something I said that you didn’t understand?” she asked, fierce conviction in her words. “That little boy has been through enough. If he needs a place to stay or someone to help guide him, we can do it.”
I started to open my mouth again, and she put a finger to my lips.
“Hush now. It’s decided.”
A smart man knows when he’s been beat. Savannah rarely insisted on anything. Though I knew doing this could bring trouble to us, there was no chance of my overriding her decision.
I turned toward the detective. “Okay.”
“This is completely unorthodox,” he said. “But I know what you’re capable of and this is the only idea I could come up with.”
He looked over at Rusty and Amy. “This can’t go any further.”
“It’ll have to,” Rusty said. “I’ll tell my wife but that’ll be as far as it goes. We don’t hide things from each other.”
I shook my head. “It’ll go beyond that,” I said, turning to my wife. “If we do this, I’m asking Deuce to send a couple of guys down to stay with us.”
“Tony for sure,” she said. “Obviously, Paul, and maybe Andrew?”
I grinned at her and nodded. “GMTA.” Then I turned toward Andersen. “Men I trust and have worked with at Homeland Security.”
Andersen looked at each of us in turn. “Let me have your number. I’ll call you when I know anything.”
I handed him a Gaspar’s Revenge Charter Service card. One that I kept in my wallet. “My cell number’s on
