“Don’t act like such a vigilante jackoff, Carver. Maybe you hadn’t noticed, but Paul Kave went on the attack today. You oughta be glad to have Gibbons in the background. He might have saved your bacon this morning. You better keep in mind you’re looking for a guy even crazier than you.”
“I do the job my way or I don’t do it,” Carver said.
“We both know you don’t mean that, sweetheart. You’re just zapping me with this late-night movie talk to scare me. We need each other like Bogie and Bacall. Gotta work together in concert, you might say.”
“You sound confident,” Carver said. “You shouldn’t be. I can chuck this arrangement, tell everything to the media, and take another approach.”
“Not an approach that’d net you the guy french-fried your son.”
Carver felt an almost palpable loathing for McGregor. The Fort Lauderdale lieutenant saw only opportunity in death, not the justice he talked about to rationalize his actions outside the rules. “You said it, though: I’m emotional about this investigation. I’m not thinking any more clearly than Paul Kave. He’s running scared, I’m running hot. Hell, I might do just about anything; it doesn’t have to make sense.”
“I know your history, Carver. You’re too good a cop to do something stupid.”
“1 wasn’t a good cop last night at the Mermaid Motel.”
McGregor was silent for a long time. Then he laughed but it sounded hollow.
“Okay, Carver, no more Gibbons. You’re a solo act the rest of the way. And I hope to Jesus for both our sakes you got this thing figured out so it happens the way we planned.”
Carver hung up. He knew McGregor was probably lying. He wondered how deeply Gibbons was involved with Mc shy;Gregor, and if McGregor was careful and ruthless enough to snip any loose ends after Paul Kave was killed.
That was how people like McGregor climbed to eminence, over the graves of people like Carver. It was the kind of world where anything might happen. Anything.
He drank another beer, then went outside and moved the Olds so he could change the tire with his back to the ocean.
Chapter 21
Joel Dewitt’s car and motorcycle dealership was on a bend on Haven Avenue in Fort Lauderdale. It was flanked by two used-car lots, each with strings of red, white, and blue vinyl pennants draped above the front row of cars that were facing the street with headlights and grilles shining and eager, like puppies vying for adoption. About half the businesses in the block had American flags flying, or suspended in display windows. Patriotism for sale; Commie kisser if you didn’t buy. Most of the cars on the lots were Japanese or European. The pennants fluttered and flapped like crazy when the wind barely breathed.
There were no pennants at Dewitt Motors. It was a neat, square brick building squatting on a blacktop lot. Late-model used cars were arranged in two rows in front of it, with an aisle wide enough so that the small showroom was visible from the street. Some of the cars had prices soaped on their windshields, along with
When Carver entered the cool showroom he saw Dewitt immediately. Nadine’s fiance was standing by a Coke machine, sipping from a red-and-white can and talking to a short, dark woman with bangs that almost completely concealed her eyes. He had on a pastel green shirt, striped aquamarine tie, and pleated blue slacks; he looked like an animated Picasso from his Day-Glo period. For neutrals he was wearing a white belt and white loafers. Carver thought a checked sportcoat would make it an ideal outfit for selling used cars. Maybe Elana Kave disliked Dewitt because of the way he dressed. Or maybe he had a few toned-down outfits especially for wearing to the Kave estate.
He noticed Carver, excused himself from his conversation with the woman with bangs, and walked across the showroom. The machine-gun chatter of an air wrench popped off out of sight behind him. Must be a service bay out back.
Dark green opaque plastic shades had been strategically lowered so that the sun was blocked everywhere but where it was needed to make the chrome on the motorcycles glitter. Dewitt squinted as he crossed a sunny patch and smiled. He extended his hand. He was quintessential salesman here in his showroom, a creature of his environs. Possibly the flashy clothes were his work uniform.
Carver shook the hand, glanced around at the empty showroom, and asked how business was.
“Most of our customers come in evenings,” Dewitt said, “when they’re off work and looking for ways to spend their money. You here because you’re interested in that cycle we talked about? I can put you on that big Harley at a better-than-fair price.” He pointed to a sleek silver-and-black machine that looked capable of creating sonic booms.
“I’m past the age for cycles,” Carver said.
Dewitt smiled handsomely and his alert blue eyes flicked up and down Carver as if he were sizing up a trade- in. “Some guys hit forty and they get paunchy and soft. For some reason, others get tough. You could still handle a big cycle, despite the bad leg. Bet you’d enjoy hell out of it.”
“Maybe someday when I’ve got something to outrun,” Carver said. “I thought I’d drop by and ask you about the Kave family when we were alone and you could talk.”
Dewitt rested a hand on the chrome handlebar of a Honda. “What about the Kaves?”
“Why’s Elana so set against you marrying Nadine?”
Dewitt laughed and waved his free hand to encompass the showroom. “Maybe she doesn’t consider this a respectable way to turn a buck. Not like getting rich selling hot dogs pumped full of chemicals.” He suddenly got serious. “Sometimes I catch Elana looking at me oddlike, Carver. I mean odd for her. Like Nadine looks at me. So maybe she likes me a little after all.”
Carver put that one down to male ego. “Is Nadine concerned about her mother’s resistance to the marriage?”
“Sure. But it isn’t going to stop us. Nadine’s a girl with her own stubborn streak. I’ll tell you, a kind of bullheadedness seems to run strong in the Kave family.”
“Hard not to notice. Would she marry you
“Not a fair question, Carver. But the answer is no. Anyway, Adam doesn’t really disapprove of me. One entrepreneur respects another. Maybe eventually there’ll be as many Dewitt Motors as there are Adam’s Inns.” Dewitt stood away from the cycle and crossed his arms, smug in his vision of grandeur. Carver got the impression he thought a lot about that projected golden future. “But what’s all this got to do with you looking for Paul?”
“I’m wondering if Nadine would tell you if Paul contacted her.”
Dewitt thought about that, shifting his weight from leg to leg. “If I asked her to she’d tell me. But that doesn’t mean she’d volunteer the information
“Was Adam really that hard on him?”
“Any dog in its right mind would run away from Adam.”
“What did Elana think of Adam’s treatment of their kids?”
“She doesn’t live in the real world, Carver. She’s got her own problems. Way Nadine describes it, that’s how Elana always was, even before the cancer.” Dewitt glanced to the side, as if to make sure no one had wandered into the showroom to overhear. “You know about Elana’s cancer, Carver?”
“Yeah, I was told.”
“Well, I’m not supposed to know. Nadine told me anyway. She’s not supposed to know how serious it is, but she does. Keep quiet I mentioned it, okay?”
