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I’m trying to find a new man, but it’s difficult. Too bad you’re married. I’m calling to see if you can help me on a case.”
    â€œYou know I will if I can. What’s up?”
    She explained the Fortson case and told him about her need to seethe bank’s books on the two trusts, particularly those that cover the time of Rachel’s death. “I’d also like to see what his trust was doing for a year or two before her death and how he’s handled the money since.”
    â€œSince it’s a murder case, and possibly involves fraud on a federally insured financial institution, I think we can legitimately issue an investigative subpoena without going before a judge for a search warrant. How soon do you need it?”
    â€œYesterday.”
    He laughed. “It’s too late to do anything today. Banks keep banker’s hours, you know. How would first thing Monday morning work?”
    â€œThat’d be great. Thanks.”
    â€œTell Matt hello.”
    She clicked the off button and was putting the phone back in her pocket when it rang. Matt. “We’re going to Key West. Leaving on Coit Airways as soon as you get home and throw some stuff in a suitcase. Jock’s in the hospital down there. I’ll tell you about it on the way. I need you here as soon as possible.”
    â€œLeaving now. Pick me up at my condo.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
    F RIDAY , O CTOBER 31
    I T WAS NEARING seven o’clock as we started our final approach to Key West International Airport. The sun was sinking into the Gulf and the lights in town were winking on, providing the festive air that defined this little town at the end of the continent. A cruise ship, aglow with colored lights that painted the sea in bright colors, glided out of the port. The small island was alive, day and night, the energy palpable. I could almost feel it as we slipped low over Duval Street on our way to the airport.
    Russ’ wife Patti had joined us for the flight. J.D. sat in the right seat next to Russ, and Patti and I took the seats right behind them. After we had reached cruising altitude, I leaned over the seatbacks in front of me and told them what I knew of Jock’s condition. I told them that the only other thing I knew was that the Key West police were at the hospital and so was a friend of mine who was a Monroe County detective.
    Russ greased the plane onto the runway and taxied to a fixed base operator’s private ramp. “We can stay if you need us,” Patti said.
    â€œWe’ll be fine,” J.D. said. “We’ve got reservations at the Pier House and there’s a rental car waiting for us here.”
    We thanked them for the ride and watched as the little plane took off and disappeared into the darkness. The ride to the hospital wasshort, less than three miles. The emergency room looked pretty much like every one I’d ever been in. It was full of people waiting to be seen, most of them shabby looking, their clothes unwashed and hair unkempt. Children sat in their moms’ laps, some sleeping, some crying. A television, tuned to a twenty-four hour cable news channel, was bolted to the wall in a corner of the waiting room, its volume turned low enough that nobody could understand what was being said, but loud enough to be annoying.
    A surly woman sitting at the reception desk glared at me as I approached. “I’m Matt Royal. Would you tell Ms. Rudek I’m here?”
    â€œWhat’s this in reference to?”
    â€œShe’ll know.”
    She glared some more, trying, I think, to determine if I was some deranged maniac who went around to hospitals and killed social workers. “Have a seat,” she said.
    I stood there until she picked up the phone and said, “A gentleman named Royal is here to see you.” She stressed the word “gentleman,” like she didn’t think for a minute that it fit me. I smiled at her and took a chair next to