Джеймс Паттерсон - Lost

The woman with the older man smiled and said, “You’re a pro, aren’t you?”

“You can catch my show nightly at the Improv.”

Even my mom chuckled at that one.

Chapter 53

NO ONE EXPECTS a philosophy major to be terribly organized. And by FBI standards, I was not. That didn’t stop me from being effective, but still, sometimes the mess got to me.

It took me an hour to get my office just the way I wanted it. Stacks of papers that had been sitting on the credenza behind the desk were now in either the shred basket or the filing cabinet. The stuff pinned to my bulletin board was updated. I recognized that some of the previous reminders, like a to-do list from two and a half years ago that I’d carried with me from the Miami Police Department, were probably no longer useful.

I’d even used the tiny vacuum cleaner someone had brought in to give the carpet a good once-over.

Steph Hall stepped into the doorway and said, “Wow, I didn’t know you had so much room. What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion. It was just getting a little messy.”

“We all assumed that was the natural order of things with you. The office looks about the same as it did right after you moved in. What are you going to do for an encore this afternoon? Maybe wash your Explorer?”

“Did it last night. It smells like a new car.”

“Okay, what the heck is going on? Do you know something I don’t?”

“I don’t know how busy I’ll be once this case gets off the ground. I thought it was a good time to clean things up.”

“Uh-huh. And when does the Dutch detective come to Miami?”

“This afternoon.” I tried to sound casual, but Steph knew me too well.

“I’m starting to suspect that you and this detective have more in common than the case.”

“It’s not like that.”

Steph raised an eyebrow and said, “With guys, it’s always like that. Men have one-track minds. So tell me, is she pretty?”

“Beautiful.” I didn’t even bother to hide my smile. I checked the clock on my desk and realized I had to head out to the airport soon.

Steph said, “Can I help with anything?”

“You’ve already done too much. You’re the best.” I stood and gathered my things.

She said, “Have I done enough to learn why your street name is Anti?”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

She playfully slapped me on the arm. “Don’t be a shit. I could just ask a Miami cop.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Steph bowed her head. “You’re right. I’ll figure it out. Or I’ll get you to spill one day.”

“Good luck with that.” I let her hear me snicker as I left.

An hour later, I used my connections at Miami International to get right to the gate as passengers disembarked from the Amsterdam plane.

I didn’t want to go overboard, but I had gotten a haircut. I wore a simple sports coat. Marie spotted me as soon as she stepped off the Jetway. I liked the smile that spread across her face.

I reached in for a hug and she put out her hand and we were caught in the awkward no-man’s-land between a hug and a handshake. She put one arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze.

After we retrieved her single bag, we walked to my car. Marie said, “The newest information I have came from my best informant, who told me that a ship left from somewhere in Northern Europe about a week ago and should be here in the next few days.”

“And you can’t narrow that down at all?”

“I might be able to once we’re closer to the day the ship arrives.”

“Just like they can trick you by leaving from any one of the ports in Europe, they could come into the port of Miami, Port Everglades in Fort Lauderdale, or even Palm Beach.”

Marie said, “I understand. I just want to make the best case possible.”

“I’d like to get a little press on the arrests so that people can see how serious human trafficking really is. Media coverage would probably help the task force as well.”

Marie agreed. As we made our way to my car, she said, “What do we do now?”

“I’m going to get you something to eat. You set the standard in Amsterdam for hospitality.”

I loved her smile.

Chapter 54

IT WAS LATE in the afternoon by the time I got Marie settled in her downtown hotel room. I had planned to take her to the office and introduce her around, but to be honest, I liked my alternative plan better.

She was hungry, so I’d stopped my Explorer near a food truck that was always on Eighth Street just west of the interstate, before the street turns into Calle Ocho, famous for restaurants visited by presidents and the Cuban culture on display.

Marie looked at the truck with the neon letters on the side that said SANDWICHES. She said, “You’re only taking me to the nicest places, I see.”

The owner, Luis, waved to me as we stepped up to the truck’s window. I smiled and held up two fingers. He nodded.

“I don’t want you to fill up too much before dinner. Besides, these are the best Cuban sandwiches in the city. He’s usually sold out by this time of day.”

“What other kinds of sandwiches does he sell?”

“There are no other sandwiches recognized by Miami residents. Try one.”

Marie said, “Don’t we get a choice of what’s on it?”

“No. In Miami, a Cuban sandwich is ham, pork, pickles, mustard, and a little mayo. Otherwise it’s not a Cuban sandwich, and most places won’t sell it.”

When I tried to pay, Luis held up his hands. “Never from you.”

I thanked him and stuffed a ten in the tip jar.

As we sat in the air-conditioning of my car, Marie said, “Did he not charge you because you’re with the police?”

“Sort of. Years ago, he was robbed and his teenage daughter was pistol-whipped by the robber. There was no way to ID the suspect and Luis was too scared to give us many details. His daughter was a mess. She had two surgeries. It pissed me off,” I said. “So I put an offer out on the street for information about the guy.”

“What kind of offer?”

“I let the best snitches know that I’d give them a walk on their next crack-possession charge if they came up with the name.”

“And did they?”

“The next day I had Ronald Jerris in custody for robbery and assault. It was his fifth arrest that year.”

Marie thought about it and said, “An offer to ignore possession of crack? I’d never be allowed to do that at home.”

“I’m not supposed to do it here either. But letting a brutal robber get away with beating a teenage girl isn’t right. Given the choice between what’s legal and what’s right, I chose right.”

“And now you get free sandwiches.”

“Which I’d like to pay for, but it would hurt his pride. But better than a free lunch is that his daughter is entering her third year at the University of Central Florida.”

We finished our sandwiches and got on our way. As I drove, Marie sat in the passenger seat and took in all the sights of South Florida. “What city is this?” she asked at one point.

“It’s called Coral Springs. This is where people who work in Miami live. At least, people who work in public service.”

Marie turned to me. “Are we going to your house?”

“I thought you might like to eat a home-cooked meal and see what an average American family made up of only adults is like.” I was taking a risk; I wasn’t sure how she’d react to this.

She gave me a broad smile and said, “Will your mom and sister be there?”

“They’re busy making our dinner as we speak.”

All Marie said was “Excellent.”

Chapter 55

I TOOK MARIE to my house, despite the fact that I had some concerns. My mom had been pretty good since the incident at the doctor’s office a few days ago, but the likelihood of her having an episode increased as time went on, and I was afraid we were due for a bad night.