Preston nodded at him.
“Okay. I’ll hold you to your word.”
The boys hurried back out to the gift shop. Ben plowed right into his mother.
“There you are! Thank God. If you’re buying anything, do it now. I can’t wait to leave this place. Honestly, Howard,” she said to his father, “couldn’t we have taken them on an overnighter to Disney World? I can’t believe we’re going from here to an airboat ride and a night in one of those open-air chickee things!”
“It will be fine, dear,” Ben’s father said. He winked at Ben.
“I knew I should have gone with Sally and the Girl Scouts,” she said.
Ben flashed a quick smile to Mark. Mark smiled back. It was going to be all right.
No one was in trouble. The alligator farm wasn’t going to call the police or Mark’s parents; Ben’s folks weren’t even any the wiser.
The day was saved.
The airboat ride was next.
Jesse had pulled into the parking lot at the alligator farm already tired. He hadn’t found Billy Ray, though he’d found Billy Ray’s boat. Where the hell the man had crawled off to, he didn’t know. He would need lots more time to comb the swamp to find Billy Ray.
Just what he needed to be doing when two friends had been shot down in their own yard for no apparent reason.
And now this.
A call because a woman had gone into a fit while visiting the alligator farm.
Lots of tourists, he noticed. That was good. Along the Tamiami Trail, a lot of the Miccosukee Indians depended on the tourist trade for a living. Along Alligator Alley, stretching from Broward westward across the state in a slightly more northerly route, a lot of the state’s Seminole families depended on the tourist trade, as well. The big alligator farms pulled people in, and then they stayed and paid good tourist dollars for airboat rides, canoe treks along the endless canals at sunset, and even camping in traditional chickees. The locals made money, which was good, because they needed it.
Of course, the biggest earner in the area was the casino. Still, there were a lot of other good ways to make a living from tourists. Either way, it was money honestly earned, and to Jesse, the setting alone was worth the price of admission. The Everglades was a unique environment, and though civilization was steadily encroaching on the rare, semitropical wilderness, it was still just that: a wilderness. Deep in the “river of grass,” a man could be so entirely alone with God and nature that civilization itself might not exist. There were miles and miles, acres and acres, where no one had as yet managed to lay a single cable or wire; there were places where even cell phones were no use. There were dangerous snakes and at times the insects were thick in the air. But it was also a place of peace unlike anything else he’d ever experienced. Every once in a while he thought of himself as a rare individual indeed—a man finally at peace with himself, satisfied with his job, and certain, most of the time, that he was the best man for it.
At least, he usually felt at peace with himself and as if he could make a difference in his work.
Today…
Today the world didn’t make sense. That a couple as fine and hardworking as Maria and her husband could meet such a fate…hell, what good were the police then? Even if they solved the crime, his friends were still dead.
But thanks to his work, he wasn’t powerless. He would find the killers and see justice done. That was his job, and it was one worth doing.
He wasn’t making a fortune or knocking the world dead, but he didn’t need money. He needed solitude, and the opportunity to be alone when he chose. And he needed to feel that he had some control over his own life and destiny, and this job certainly gave him that. Sometimes, he was very much alone, but that was a choice he had made, consciously or perhaps subconsciously, when he had lost Connie.
“Jesse!”
Harry Rogers, major stockholder and acting president and supervisor of Harry’s Alligator Farm and Museum, hurried toward Jesse, who got out of his car. Harry was a big man, six foot two by what sometimes appeared to be six foot two of girth. He often talked like a Cracker, having been born in a Deep South section of northern Florida, and he was proud of being a Cracker, even if he’d gone on to acquire a degree in business administration from none other than such a prestigious Yankee institution as Harvard.
“Thank God!” Harry exclaimed, clapping him on the back. “We got a lady went berserk in the middle of Michael’s speech, started screaming that he was going to get eaten up, and going on and on about how dangerous the gators were. I didn’t want the Metro cops coming in here with their sirens blazing and all…and God knows, we don’t need the community up in arms about the gators any worse than they already are, but…”
“Where is she?”
“My office, and is she a loose cannon or what? I’m telling you, she’s downright scary. I’ve got Lorena, the new nurse, with her. We made her some tea, Lorena’s talking to her, but she’s still going off every few minutes or so.”
Harry stopped talking and looked at Jesse closely. “Hey, what’s the matter? You look grim.”
“I am. An old Cuban couple in that new development east of here was murdered.”
“How?”
“Shot.”
“That your jurisdiction?” Harry asked, scratching his head.
“No, but they were friends.”
“I’m sorry. Real sorry. Were they into drugs?”
That was the usual question, especially in a shooting. “No, it had nothing to do with drugs.”
“You sure?” Harry asked skeptically.
Jesse gritted his teeth. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Well, if I can help…but at the moment, you’ve got to be a cop here for me, since this is your jurisdiction.”
“All right. I’ll see what I can do, but if this lady has really lost her mind, we may need some professionals out here, and we may have to call in the county boys.”
“I hate the county boys.”
“Hell, I like to settle our own problems, too, Harry. You know that.”
“Sure do,” Harry said. “’Course, you’re the only man among us I’ve seen put those boys down.”
“There are good county cops, Harry. We’re a small community out here.”
“We’re an Indian community,” Harry said dryly.
“Doesn’t matter. We’re small. You have to have the big boys around when you need real help. Hopefully, we don’t need it now. Do you know where this woman is from? Has she said?”
Harry shook his head. “Every time we ask her, she goes on about her friend who was eaten. She’s got to live near a lake somewhere, but that could be half the state. Don’t that just beat all? The old broad has a friend eaten by a gator—so she comes to visit a gator farm. Folks are weird as hell, huh?”
“Folks are weird,” Jesse agreed without elaborating. The whole thing was weird, he thought. The woman here had a friend who’d been eaten by an alligator.
A piece of an alligator had been found where two innocent people had been murdered.
He followed Harry in through a side entrance to the administrative buildings and down a long hallway.
The place might be an alligator farm out in the swamp, but Harry knew how to furnish an office. It was at the end of a long hallway. A single door opened onto a room with a massive oak desk surrounded by the best in leather sofas and chairs. To the rear were more seats, a large-screen TV-and-VCR combo, and floor-to-ceiling speakers for his elaborate sound system. Harry loved the Everglades; he even loved reptiles. He was part Creek, not Seminole or Miccosoukee, but he’d worked his way up from cotton picking at the age of three to millionaire businessman, and he liked his creature comforts. His office might have been on Park Avenue.
Jesse could hear the woman as he followed Harry in. She was speaking in a shrill voice, talking about how nothing had been found of “Matty” other than a hand with a little flesh left on the fingers. Jesse glanced at Harry, then walked over to the woman, who was standing
in a corner, flattened against the wall. Her hair was silver, her eyes a soft powder blue. She was trim and very attractive, except that now the flesh around her eyes was puffy from crying, and she gazed around with a hunted, trapped look of panic on her face.
In front of her, trying to calm her, was a young woman in a nurse’s standard white uniform. Jesse couldn’t see her face because a fall of sleek, honey-colored hair hid her features, but before she turned, he knew that he’d already met her.
And she was certainly the last person he’d expected to see at Harry’s.
A woman who looked like that and drove a car like that, pedal to the metal…
To get here?
She stared back at him for a fleeting moment, instantly hostile—or defensive?
“You’re going to get eaten!” the woman was shrieking, pointing at the nurse. “You’ve got to get out of here. Don’t help these people breed monsters. They’ll kill you, too. Crush you, drown you…Oh my God, a hand, a hand was all that was left…some flesh, just bits and pieces of flesh….”
“Hey, now, ma’am,” Jesse said, stepping forward, trying to remember what he had learned in Psychology 101. “It’s going to be all right, honest. Calm down. The alligators here are being raised as food. They’re no danger to anyone on the outside—”
“They’ll get loose!” the woman protested. But she had given Jesse her attention. He had kept his voice low, deep and calm—Psychology 101—and his firm tone seemed to be working with her. He stepped closer to her, reaching out a hand.
“They’re not going to get loose. No one’s going to let them get loose.” He smiled. “Besides, Harry here is a charter member of the National Rifle Association. He and his staff wouldn’t hesitate to shoot any gator that moved in the wrong direction. He’s not out to save the gators, ma’am, he’s out to make money off them.”
She took his hand, staring into his eyes.
Next to him, Jesse heard a deep sigh of relief. He glanced at the woman standing by him, Harry’s new nurse. Despite himself, he felt a little electric tremor.
Nature, simple biology, kicking in.
She was probably one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.
Harry had a habit of finding pretty girls. Strange that a fat old man who owned an alligator farm could convince any young woman to come work in the middle of a swamp. Not that Harry was a lecher; he was as faithful as could be to Mathilda, his equally round and cheerful wife of thirty-odd years. But he did like attractive young people, and he had managed to fill the place with them, so this new nurse shouldn’t have been too much of a surprise. Still, Jesse felt himself pause, as he hadn’t in a very long time, staring at her.
Maybe it was just the day he’d had so far.
She looked back at him gravely, studying him with the same intensity as he had studied her. Then she looked down, biting her lower lip, embarrassed. In a moment she looked up again, straightening her shoulders and inclining her head, an acknowledgment that he had defused an uncomfortable situation. Her eyes were a dark-rimmed light hazel, startling against the classical, pure cream perfection of her face. Her hair was like a halo of crowning glory; she looked almost fragile in her blond beauty, yet he sensed that there was a lot of substance to her, as well.
He felt the warmth of the older woman’s hand and, with a start, looked back to the gray-haired visitor—his current objective. He gave himself a little shake, surprised that Harry’s new nurse had so impressed him, and continued to talk to the older woman. “It’s okay. We’re going to get you home. Except you’re going to have to give us a bit of a hand to do that,” he continued. “I’m Jesse Crane, a police officer out here. I’d like—”
“Oh!” the woman cried. “So now you’re going to arrest me for telling the truth about these monsters and the horrible people purposely breeding them.”
“No, ma’am, I just want to get you home and make sure you’re going to be all right.”
“Oh, like hell. You’re just trying to shut me up!”
Jesse smiled at her. He couldn’t help it. She was a tough old broad. She might be going over the edge, but she was going with passion and style.
“What’s your name?”
“Theresa Manning.”
“How do you do, Mrs. Manning? You’re free to call the newspapers, or buy a banner ad and have a plane drag it through the sky. We guarantee freedom of speech in this country. But you’re hot and miserable, and if you lost a friend to an alligator, this is not a good place for you to be. Let me take you home.”
Theresa Manning hesitated, then sighed deeply.
“Where is your home?” he prodded.
“The Redlands.”
“All right.” He glanced at his watch. It was important to him that he meet Lars to go to the airport and pick up Julie Hernandez. “Let’s go. Let me take you home now.”
She nodded, looking at him. But as she rose, she suddenly gripped the nurse’s hand.
“You, too. Please.”
“But, Mrs. Manning—” the nurse protested.
“Please,” Theresa Manning insisted.
“Go with her,” Harry said softly to the nurse.
“Harry, I won’t be able to bring her back for a while,” Jesse said.
“Oh, please,” Theresa Manning said, starting to grow hysterical again.
“Lorena, just go with him. When you get back, you get back!” Harry said impatiently.
Lorena’s startling eyes fixed on Jesse’s, and she said, “All right. If Mrs. Manning wants me with her, I’ll be with her, and whatever you have to do, Officer, I’ll wait until you’re able to get me back. Shall we go?”
Jesse lifted his hands in surrender. He almost smiled. Maybe she felt this was her way of getting back at him for what had happened yesterday.
Fine. If she wanted to wind up involved in a murder investigation and not get back until the wee hours of the morning, so be it.
“Yeah. Sure. Let’s go,” he said flatly. “Mrs. Manning?” He smiled, taking the older woman’s arm. She actually smiled back.
He let Lorena follow behind as he escorted Theresa Manning from the office to his car.
Damn, this was one hell of a day.
Chapter 4
Lorena sat in the back of the car, while Theresa Manning sat in the front with Jesse Crane.
She felt somewhat useless being there, but the woman had been insistent. And though Lorena felt a twinge of guilt, aware that she had been eager to come not so much to help out—which she certainly was willing to do—but because she wanted the time with Jesse Crane.
As Sally had pointed out, the man was something special. But that wasn’t why she was interested in him.
Despite the heavy traffic, he drove smoothly and adeptly. They left the Trail and headed south. He kept up a casual stream of conversation with Mrs. Manning, pointing out birds, asking about her home and family. By the time they neared her neighborhood, she seemed relaxed, even apologetic. Jesse told her not to be sorry, then suggested that she not take any more tours in the Everglades for a while.
At her house, she asked them in. Jesse very respectfully declined, but he gave her a card, telling her to call him if she needed him.
When they got back in the car, Lorena told him, “That was impressive.”
He shrugged. “The woman isn’t a maniac, just really upset. And maybe feeling that kind of rage we all do when something horrible has happened and we’re powerless to change it.” He glanced at his watch, then at her. “Sorry, I have to get to the airport, and it’s not going to be pleasant.”
“I told you…whatever you need to do…do it. I’ll hang in the background,” Lorena said.
He nodded, and after a few minutes she realized that he was heading for the turnpike. He glanced over at her, a curious smile tugging at his lips. “What brought you to our neck of the woods?” he asked her.
She shrugged, looking out the window. Then she looked at him sharply. “Well, I thought you’d already figured that out.
I was racing out to one of the resorts. A spa. To be pampered.”
“I’m sure you’ll find time to slip out and hit some of the prime places,” he said dryly.
“Really?” she murmured.
He couldn’t resist a taunting smile. “You do your own hair and nails?” he asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” she told him.
He shook his head. “You don’t look the type,” he said.
“You have to look a type to work out here?”
“You’ll burn like a tomato in a matter of minutes,” he warned her.
“They do make sunscreen,” she returned.
“So…I repeat, what are you doing out here?”
“The job at Harry’s,” she said simply.
“There are nursing jobs all over the state. And most of them not in the Everglades.”
She gazed over at him, surprised to realize that she was telling the truth when she said, “I like it out here.”
“You’re fond of mosquitoes the size of hippos and reptiles that grunt through the night?”
“I think the sunsets out here are some of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. As to the alligators…well, they’re just part of the environment, really. The birds are glorious. And the pay’s exceptional.”
“I see. Well, it’s still a lonely existence.”
It was her turn to smile. “Okay, so it may take an hour to get anywhere, but…it’s a straight shot east to Miami and a straight shot west to Naples. Not so bad.”
“I guess not. But in bad weather, you can be stuck out here and feel as if you’re living in the Twilight Zone.”
“You came back out here to work,” she said softly.
There was silence for a minute. “This is home for me,” he said.
“It’s not so far off from home for me,” she said.
“It’s pretty far.”
She glanced at him sharply.
“Jacksonville. I took your license, remember? And now that I know you were flying like a bat out of hell to reach Harry’s, I’m more stunned than ever.”
“I was starting a new job,” she said defensively. “And however far it might be, I am from this state.” Great. Now he was curious. What if he decided to investigate her?