a seat next to his partner. “He always treats me right.”
We ate with little conversation. Diaz asked for more detail on Ashley and Nate Brown. As I described them, the worn and washed-out look of their clothes, the deep lines in both their faces seamed by hours of looking out over open spaces in unshaded sun, I realized that neither man had worn any adornment. No rings or watches. No fancy belt buckles. But envisioning them again standing up to greet me, I remembered the small leather knife scabbard that each man, including Blackman, had worn on his belt. Sims was the only man in the group without one. I didn’t bother adding that observation to the mix as we sat and ate.
“This is truly wonderful stuff, Diaz. But we gotta go,” Richards finally said.
Driving back to the administration building Diaz suggested that Richards drive me back north to Billy’s tower.
“I’d do it,” he said, “but I better get on this Ashley profile, see if we can find anything.”
Before she had a chance to respond I told them Billy was down at the county courthouse and they could just drop me there.
“I’ll get a ride back with him.”
Richards stayed silent, looking out into the sun through the front windshield. Diaz drove several blocks to the county justice center and swung to the curb. I thanked him for lunch and got out. Richards’ side window whirred down and Diaz leaned over her.
“We’ll be in touch?”
I tapped the hot finish on the roof, waited until Diaz pulled his head back and then answered his question to Richards’ eyes.
“I hope so.”
They waited until the automatic doors of the building entrance slid closed before pulling away. I stood behind the glass and watched them disappear into traffic. I wondered if Richards had just strung me a line with the story of her husband, using my own past to find a psychological connection to somehow loosen me. Then I thought of the look in her eyes when she was staring across the street at the kids on the playground. She might be a good investigator. She might even be a good liar, as a good investigative interviewer sometimes has to be. But there was something real about her. Not even a pro could lie like that.
I went to a bank of phones just inside and called Billy. Like the good lawyer he was, he told me to keep my nose out of it.
“Max, I thought you were off the hook, my friend. Don’t let the idea of a setup get you vengeful enough to set yourself up.”
“Whatever Sims told them already got them back on me. This guy Hammonds is playing a hell of a chess game.”
“The more places you show up, the more circumstantial he’s got to lay on you. Don’t make it easy on him, Max.”
CHAPTER 18
Sims had dropped a dime on me. Or maybe Hammonds had shaken it out of him. Either way I needed to get to him.
I had Billy contact his woman lawyer friend who came up with a phone number and the address of a lab on the property of Florida Electric in south Dade County.
When I got Sims on the phone, he hesitated at the sound of my voice.
“Jesus, I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble,” he said. It was impossible to tell how sincere he was over the phone.
“Yeah, well, what you meant and what it ended up being don’t go together,” I said, putting a bite in my voice, ad-libbing as we went along. “I just got myself clear of these guys and then on your word they pulled me in and put me through another round of interrogation. Is that what you and your friends meant when you said you thought I could identify with your harassment? ’Cause now you put it back on me.”
There was silence on the other end of the line, but I could hear the man breathing, feel him thinking.
“Look. I didn’t mean to get you in deeper. This thing is getting way too spooky,” he finally said.
I could hear the same struggle going on in his voice as Gunther had shown in the hospital.
“Yeah? Tell me about it,” I said.
“Not over the phone.”
“Where do you want to meet?” I said, pushing him through the door that he had already opened.
“You know the way to the power plant?”
I told him to give me directions and after I punched him off I sat thinking about what Hammonds had said about