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two men to run to catch up before he reached the customs area. |
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"You have located him?" The Dark Man's guttural Garifuna dialect was as rough as a smoker's cough. |
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"No. Key Biscayne. About twenty minutes in this weather." |
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"You will take me to a hotel," the Dark Man said. "We will visit him tonight." |
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"I will ride to him on the back of the storm." |
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Kyna drove with quick, sure movements of her hands and feet, running through the gears without so much as a glance at the Miata's tachometer, darting between dinosaur-sized semis and blowing past mud-splattered pickups with baseball batstheir handles wrapped with electrical tapehanging in window-mounted gun racks. She was on her way back to Germantown, to the apartment that she shared with super-model Julie Del Mar, and trying to figure out why she had done what she'd just done: hire a total stranger to go with her to deliver the diamonds. |
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"It's all your fault, Bryan," she muttered as she slammed on the brakes to keep from rear-ending another pickup truck with Mississippi tags. |
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"Learn to drive on pavement, you redneck!" she screamed as she accelerated around the truck. |
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The white-haired man behind the wheel waved and smiled. |
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"Shit!" she muttered, feeling guilty for taking her frustrations out on some poor old dirt farmer. "Damn you, Bryan." |
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After calling in the middle of the night and giving her extremely detailed instructions for a totally unexpected, totally harebrained delivery trip, Bryan Douglas, Kyna's boss and on-again-off-again lover for the past two years, had promptly vanished from the face of the earth. |
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And now Kyna was spooked. She knew there was no one |
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