sunglasses hiding my eyes. The weight of the law enforcement community was hunting me. The train stations, airports and harbours round Tampa were all closed down tight, and with roadblocks set up at all intersections in and out of the city they thought it was only a matter of time before they hauled me in. Little did they know we were already beyond the noose, but we weren’t in the clear yet. Bryce followed a winding route via roads that took us through the swamps. ‘They realise who phoned them, they’ll try to trace your phone.’
‘I can always replace it if needs be.’
Bryce’s lips made a tight slash.
‘By implicating me in a double murder, and then making it look like I’m a cop-killer, the people we’re up against think they’re shutting down the places I can go for help.’
‘They’re probably right,’ Bryce said.
‘They are, but there was nothing else I could do to help Imogen. I had to call the cops. I only hope they got there in time to save her.’
‘You still want to go all the way to Maine?’
‘Yes. That’s where the killer is.’
‘But if we’re too late . . .’
‘We are going to be too late. But we might be able to pick up his trail.’
‘We should be concentrating on finding Abadia.’
‘Abadia’s dead, Bryce. He was cremated, remember?’
‘Someone was cremated, that was for sure. But we weren’t in a position to check inside the coffin.’
Glancing across at him, I wondered what he was getting at. An ex-CIA agent-cum-conspiracy theorist; that wasn’t something you came across every day. ‘Bryce, this is someone else.’
‘You’ve seen the photographs, Hunter. Who else would target the team sent to kill him? He’s also making sure that our families die because his girlfriend and child were killed during the hit. The murders were committed in Abadia’s style.’
It was strong evidence, but I was there when Abadia was shot. I was certain that he was dead.
But I should’ve followed protocol and made damn sure.
‘Do you have a wife and family?’ I asked.
He didn’t reply but his silence said it all.
‘Maybe you don’t, Bryce, but I do. There’s nothing more I want than to go to them now, but I’ve chosen to stay here. I’ve contacted a friend over in the UK who’s going to look after them. For me, the best way I can protect them is to find whoever it is and stop him for good.’
‘OK, OK, I get you,’ Bryce said. ‘But we’ve got a problem.’
We had a lot more than one in my estimation.
‘What are you getting at?’
‘If we drive it’ll take days. We can’t fly or jump on a train. There’ll be people checking, and we won’t avoid scrutiny. Not if you intend taking your weapons with you.’
‘I’m going to need them. Don’t worry, Bryce, I’ve already made our travel arrangements. All I need is for Rink to give the slip to the cops tailing him.’
‘You think he’s up to it?’
‘There’s no one better.’
‘So where do we meet him.’
‘Just keep heading south. I’ll give you directions when we get close.’
Key Largo is at the southernmost point of Florida, the most northerly of the Florida Keys. It is an island but is connected to the mainland by US Highway I and is a Mecca for scuba divers visiting the nearby coral reefs. I’d been there before: not to dive but on a whim to see what it was like, having caught the old Bogart–Bacall movie on a cable channel. It would take us hours to get there, but it would be worth the effort.
On the drive down I tried to nap for a short time while Bryce continued south, taking roads that didn’t show on many maps. My sleep was troubled: I kept replaying the death of Jimena and her child through my mind. It was vivid, their deaths Technicolor-gory and as pointless as ever they had been in real life. Instead, I spelled Bryce for a while as we went through the Everglades, then handed over the driving duties when we were back in the built-up areas of Miami Dade County. Finally,
‘I can always replace it if needs be.’
Bryce’s lips made a tight slash.
‘By implicating me in a double murder, and then making it look like I’m a cop-killer, the people we’re up against think they’re shutting down the places I can go for help.’
‘They’re probably right,’ Bryce said.
‘They are, but there was nothing else I could do to help Imogen. I had to call the cops. I only hope they got there in time to save her.’
‘You still want to go all the way to Maine?’
‘Yes. That’s where the killer is.’
‘But if we’re too late . . .’
‘We are going to be too late. But we might be able to pick up his trail.’
‘We should be concentrating on finding Abadia.’
‘Abadia’s dead, Bryce. He was cremated, remember?’
‘Someone was cremated, that was for sure. But we weren’t in a position to check inside the coffin.’
Glancing across at him, I wondered what he was getting at. An ex-CIA agent-cum-conspiracy theorist; that wasn’t something you came across every day. ‘Bryce, this is someone else.’
‘You’ve seen the photographs, Hunter. Who else would target the team sent to kill him? He’s also making sure that our families die because his girlfriend and child were killed during the hit. The murders were committed in Abadia’s style.’
It was strong evidence, but I was there when Abadia was shot. I was certain that he was dead.
But I should’ve followed protocol and made damn sure.
‘Do you have a wife and family?’ I asked.
He didn’t reply but his silence said it all.
‘Maybe you don’t, Bryce, but I do. There’s nothing more I want than to go to them now, but I’ve chosen to stay here. I’ve contacted a friend over in the UK who’s going to look after them. For me, the best way I can protect them is to find whoever it is and stop him for good.’
‘OK, OK, I get you,’ Bryce said. ‘But we’ve got a problem.’
We had a lot more than one in my estimation.
‘What are you getting at?’
‘If we drive it’ll take days. We can’t fly or jump on a train. There’ll be people checking, and we won’t avoid scrutiny. Not if you intend taking your weapons with you.’
‘I’m going to need them. Don’t worry, Bryce, I’ve already made our travel arrangements. All I need is for Rink to give the slip to the cops tailing him.’
‘You think he’s up to it?’
‘There’s no one better.’
‘So where do we meet him.’
‘Just keep heading south. I’ll give you directions when we get close.’
Key Largo is at the southernmost point of Florida, the most northerly of the Florida Keys. It is an island but is connected to the mainland by US Highway I and is a Mecca for scuba divers visiting the nearby coral reefs. I’d been there before: not to dive but on a whim to see what it was like, having caught the old Bogart–Bacall movie on a cable channel. It would take us hours to get there, but it would be worth the effort.
On the drive down I tried to nap for a short time while Bryce continued south, taking roads that didn’t show on many maps. My sleep was troubled: I kept replaying the death of Jimena and her child through my mind. It was vivid, their deaths Technicolor-gory and as pointless as ever they had been in real life. Instead, I spelled Bryce for a while as we went through the Everglades, then handed over the driving duties when we were back in the built-up areas of Miami Dade County. Finally,
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