“You’re right, he’s dead,” the lead cop said. “He sure as shit wouldn’t leave all that cash behind, not to speak of all the dope.”
“Dead, or spending the night with his girlfriend,” another cop said. “Or running for his life.”
Lucas nodded: “We need to put out an urgent bulletin on him. If he’s not dead yet, he’s going to be. Though I think he’s probably dead. Goddamnit, I need that guy.”
Lucas sat inthe truck, phoned Weaver and told him what they’d found. “There must be two kilos of heroin in there, maybe a half kilo of coke. That could mean he was working with our Coast Guard killers the whole time. Bob and I talked to a guy who said Elliot was close to the top distribution level here, that he’s got quite a few dealers working for him who are selling on a semi-wholesale level. Or maybe this was Elliot’s inventory and it all comes from the Mexican side, like he said it did.”
“Okay. Well, we’ll get that bulletin out on him, make it a big deal. We’ll find him if he’s still walking around South Florida.”
The situation at Romano’s shop was slowly being cleaned up and Romano and Bianchi had been shipped to the Miami federal lockup on gun charges. Bob’s body was at the medical examiner’s and the wounded federal agent was still in surgery at Jackson Memorial Hospital.
“Why don’t you head back to Lauderdale? We’ll bring your car and stuff from the motel... we got car keys from Bob,” Weaver said. “The shooting team still wants to talk with you about what you saw.”
Parker came backto the truck, got in the driver’s seat and said, “Headed for Lauderdale. Think I ought to use the lights and siren?”
“Lights, no siren,” Lucas said. “Goddamn thing is too loud.”
They drove out to I-95, in silence, reflections from the lightbar ticking off the hood. After they turned up the expressway, Parker said, “I have a comment, but I don’t want to annoy you after... what happened.”
“Go ahead.”
“I’ve never been on a raid like that one at Elliot’s. Finding all that heroin. That was cool. I liked it.”
“You’ve got the stress gene,” Lucas said. “Are you out of Washington, or local?”
“Washington.”
“Get some ride-alongs with the Washington cops. Your guys can fix it. Get armored up and go with them. It’ll pay you back forever.”
“I’m gonna do that,” Parker said.
After another stretch of silence, Parker asked, “How did Elliot know to set you up?”
“Ah, Bob and I were going around town...” Lucas began, but then he trailed away.
“What?” Parker asked.
“Shut up for a minute,” Lucas said. He looked out the window, not seeing the concrete landscape sliding by. He and Bob had only touched Elliot once. Somebody must have gotten to him between the time they talked and Elliot went to the Miami attorney’s office. Had Elliot already known a name, and called that guy? Or had Lucas and Bob been tracked into Elliot’s place?
Lucas tapped his knuckles against the car’s window for a moment, then muttered: “They must have been tracking us. Me and Bob. We never saw them.”
“What?”
“They were...”
“How would they even know who you were?” Parker asked. “They could pick you up at the hotel, but how did they know what you looked like? I mean, they could look you up on the internet, I guess, but how’d they even know what your nameswere? It’s not like we posted them...”
“We talked to quite a few dealers down here, but...” He rubbed his forehead with his fingertips.
“What?”
“Most of them, we didn’t really introduce ourselves,” Lucas said. “There was an old guy we talked to down in Miami, in Coconut Grove, but he’s not connected to the Mafia guys in any way that we know about and he’s retired. Elliot never saw us again.”
Thinking about it some more, then, “Oh. Shit. Parker, we gotta get west. We gotta get to a place called Sunrise. A city. You know where that is?”
“My telephone would know...”
A half hourlater, Lucas and Parker took the elevator to Alicia Snow’s floor at her Sunrise condo, looking out over the Everglades. Snow had taken a card from Lucas and in chatting with her, Bob had mentioned where they were staying. At her apartment, they knocked, but got no answer. Lucas went through his phone book, found the number for her cell phone and got nothing but dead air.
