“Sundown is a few minutes before six o’clock,” Virgil said. “I looked it up. Let’s say we want to be cruising past the drop-off spot between six-thirty and seven.”
Regio nodded: “We’ll pick you up at four o’clock. Be ready.”
“We’ll stop and refill my tanks on the way back to the apartment,” Virgil said. “I want to get a nap if I can, before we go out.”
“We’re on. For sure. The thing you gotta do, is figure how to rig up all that gear so you don’t get all tangled up in it. That was a problem... in the past.”
From the car,Virgil called Lucas and filled him in. “If we’re going past the drop-off at six-thirty, and they’re picking us up at four, that means the boat’s got to be close. You’ve still got the tracker on their Lexus?”
“We do. We’re watching them now.”
“If they find it, I could be fucked,” Virgil said.
“They won’t find it. I can guarantee that.”
“And what do you do if they show up with a different vehicle? One you can’t track?”
“We’re talking about that,” Lucas said.
On the way north, off the Keys and headed for the scuba center, Rae said, “I’m starting to pucker.”
“I didn’t think good-looking women had anything to pucker.”
“You’d be wrong about that,” Rae said. “The thing is, I sorta like the feeling.”
Virgil glanced at her, smiled: “So do I. So does Lucas.”
“So did Bob,” Rae said.
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Michael Behan, JackCattaneo, Marc Regio, and Matt Lange met at Behan’s waterfront condo and Behan opened with, “This Willy guy—he can do it?”
“That’s what the diver chick said,” Lange said.
“And you think he’s legit?”
“I do,” Regio said. “Matt’s a little nervous about him.”
Cattaneo asked, “Why?”
“Can’t really tell you why,” Lange said. “You’ve talked to him, Jack. He comes across as this stoner, lazy do-nothing slacker, but then, all of a sudden, he seems a little too... smart. A little too driven. He opens his mouth and all this technical stuff comes out.”
“But only about diving,” Regio said.
Lange: “That’s true. Only about diving. He seems to have trouble with his cell phone.”
Behan and Cattaneo looked at Lange for a couple beats, then Cattaneo asked, “You nervous enough to pull the plug?”
“If it was a small deal, I might pull it. But the guy’s a hell of a diver, and... I don’t know. This chick he’s with, she’s no kind of cop, I promise you that. She’s right out of the ghetto. So...”
Behan considered that, turning to look out the oceanside windows, scratched his ass once, turned back, and said, “That shit’s already been down there way too long. Could be silting over, could be gone. That’d be a hell of a hit. Other than you being nervous, he looks good?”
Lange nodded.
Behan looked at Cattaneo. “Jack?”
