whoever broke in may have stolen something.”
“Money?”
“I don’t think so. We don’t keep money there.” A disgusted tone of voice. I think he was amazed that a woman had backed him down. “So you weren’t back there? Right?”
“She told you, we took a walk.”
He seemed to purse his lips, mumbled something under his breath, turned, and walked away.
I quickly walked to the truck, finding Em sitting on the rear of the bed. She was breathing heavy and when I touched her arm, it was damp with a layer of perspiration.
“You were something. You called his bluff. Way to go.”
“God, Skip. He had a gun. He knows we were back there with Daron.”
“You’re shaking.”
“What do you want me to do? He had a gun. I called his bluff? I was all bluff. I figured any minute he was going to either shoot me or grab me from behind in a chokehold.”
“Didn’t happen, babe.”
She shuddered. “Where is your damned roommate?”
I didn’t want to think about what might have happened to James. They’d nailed Daron and now James was missing. I wasn’t sure what else could happen tonight, but so far our batting average was about zero.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
W hen we were younger, we had a couple of run-ins with the cops. Nothing serious. It was more a case of somebody in uniform giving James and me a warning for acting like kids. One time we shoplifted some candy, and once we got caught sneaking a video camera into a movie theater. James was going to film the movie and sell videos. That didn’t happen. Anyway, I knew James’s feelings about the police. He didn’t care for them at all. Sometimes we’d drive by a cop car and I could feel him bristle. He was careful to avoid them at all costs. Since he’d been an adult, I don’t think he’d ever even gotten a speeding ticket. So it’s hard to picture a situation where I’d ever call the cops or alert any law enforcement agency regarding James.
“Skip, maybe we should call the police.”
“What? Why?”
She gave me that wide-eyed stare that she’s perfected over the years. “Maybe because we saw Daron being hauled away?”
“Em, Daron broke into Cashdollar’s office.”
“To help us.”
I had serious doubts about that. “It’s a crime. We’re going to call the cops and turn him in?”
“Skip, you told me, these guys are capable of killing someone.”
“It’s only a theory, Em. There’s obviously no proof. If there was, they’d be in jail by now.”
“Well, then, how about the fact that your roommate seems to have mysteriously disappeared.”
I thought about that. Crayer said he didn’t know James’s whereabouts. And he’d apparently been on guard duty most of the late evening. I also thought about the fact that somebody had abruptly left the poker table. Probably after the game, since they seemed to start guard duty after everyone had played the game. But someone had left abruptly nevertheless. Somebody had gotten word that security had been breached. I could picture the half-smoked lit cigar in the ashtray.
“Well?”
“No. You know how James feels about the cops.”
“So what do we do? If we don’t call the cops, what do we do? Skip, Daron got hauled away and James is missing. Think about it.”
I thought for a moment. We couldn’t very well leave the grounds. James was here. And I did feel somewhat conflicted about Styles. Em was right. The guy found out some important information regarding our status. Crayer must have known that we were suspected of being FBI informants. Maybe that’s why he let us go. And if they thought James was working for the FBI, what would they do with him? Hopefully they’d let him go too. But according to Styles, the last informant died of a drug overdose. And if I found James with a needle in his arm, I’d have a good idea where to start looking.
“Should we look for him?”
I thought about what she’d said. That maybe James had actually signed on to work for the FBI, accepting money and putting us both at risk. James was a piece of work, and capable of just about anything, but first of all he wouldn’t do that to me, and second of all, he wouldn’t work for anybody in law enforcement. Couldn’t happen.
“Yeah. Let’s take another walk. We’ve got to do something.”
She nodded. “You know, Skip, you’re probably right. James would never work for the FBI. In any capacity.”
It scared me when she mirrored me like that.
“That leaves the question, why was he so insistent in trying to get to the bottom of this. Is he just stubborn? Bullheaded? Somebody shot his tires out and tried to get him to leave and he’s stupid enough to stay and get in their face?”
“Yes. On all accounts.”
She thought about that for a moment. “And we’re even dumber.”
“I’m guessing.”
“There’s one more thing we need to address.” She tugged on my arm as she jumped off the back of the truck.
“What’s that?”
“We’re blindly following James, right? You agree?”
“Not necessarily ‘blindly.’ I’d like to get to the bottom of what happened. Why they think we’re working for the FBI. Why Cabrina Washington was killed. Why Crayer was in South Beach when the shooting occurred today.”
“All right. Not blindly. But Skip, there’s one other thing we’re not dealing with.”
“Probably more than one thing.”
“Daron.”
“While we’re looking for James — ”
“It’s not even that. You don’t trust Daron, do you?”
“Not at all.”
“But he broke the law to help us out.”
“True. I think he was helping himself as well.”
“So now we’re somewhat obligated to him.”
“Sort of.”
“What if he lied?”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t trust him. You know he’s a scam artist. He’s obviously selling stolen shoes and who knows what else, yet you blindly believe him when he says the car was FBI. You blindly believe him when he tells you that you’re on the computer accused of being a plant.”
“You think he made it up?”
“I think he could have.”
“To what end?”
“Maybe he works for the full-timers. Maybe he’s trying to scare you off. You know, it makes sense. It makes sense that the FBI would be following this little sideshow because there’s a chance that someone here had something to do with the killing of a senator. That part makes sense.”
I agreed. How the hell had we surrounded ourselves with these people and gotten into this situation? It was like a fantasy. A fantasy nightmare.
“But what if there really is an FBI informant?”
