chiaasen.stormyweather-第66部分

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　The　door　was　flung　open　by　a　fragrant　redheaded　woman　in　high　heels　and　a　luminous　green　bikini。　Augustine　recognized　her　as　the　hooker　in　fishnets　from　15600　Calusa。
　
　An　orange　sucker　was　tattooed　on　the　freckled　slope　of　her　left　breast。　In　her　left　hand　was　a　frosty　Rum　Runner。
　
　She　said；　〃Shit；　I　thought　you　were　Snapper。〃
　
　〃Wrong　room；〃　said　Augustine。　〃I'm　sorry。〃
　
　〃Don't　be。〃
　
　Another　woman　came　out　of　the　bathroom；　saying；　〃Goddamn　this　rain。　I　wanted　to　go　in　the　pool。〃　She　wore　a　silver　one…piece　suit；　an　explosive　white…blonde　wig　and　gold　hoop　earrings。　When　she　saw　Augustine　in　the　doorway；　she　said；　〃Who're　you？〃
　
　〃I　thought　this　was　my　sister's　room；　but　I　guess　I'm　at　the　wrong　motel。〃
　
　The　redhead　introduced　herself　as　Bridget。　〃You　wanna　e　in　and　dry　off？〃
　
　〃Not　if　it　gets　Snapper　mad。〃　Augustine　was　thinking：　Snapper…now　what　the　hell　kind　of　name　is　that！
　
　The　redhead　laughed。　〃Yeah；　he's　quite　the　jealous　maniac。　e　on　in。〃
　
　The　blonde　said；　〃Jesus；　Bridget；　they're　gonna　be　here　any　second…〃
　
　But　Augustine　was　already　inside　the　room；　scouting　unobtrusively：　an　overnight　bag；　two　cosmetic　cases；　a　cocktail　dress　on　a　hanger。　Nothing　out　of　the　ordinary。　Bridget　tossed　him　a　towel。　She　said　her　friend's　name　was　Jasmine。　They　were　from　Miami。
　
　〃My　name's　George；〃　said　Augustine；　〃from　California。〃　Inanely　he　shook　hands　with　the　hookers。
　
　Bridget　held　on；　examining　his　ring　finger。　〃Not　married？〃
　
　〃Afraid　not。〃　Augustine　gently　tugged　free。
　
　Jasmine　told　Bridget　to　forget　it；　they　didn't　have　enough　time。　Bridget　said　they　wouldn't　need　much。
　
　〃George　looks　like　a　fast　starter。〃　She　winked　somewhat　mechanically　at　Augustine。　〃You　want　some　fun　until　the　rain　stops？〃
　
　〃Thanks；　but　I　really　can't　stay。〃
　
　〃Hundred　bucks；〃　Bridget　suggested。　〃Double　date。〃
　
　Jasmine　pulled　a　long　white　T…shirt　over　her　swimsuit。　She　griped：　〃Hey；　do　I　get　a　vote　in　this？　A　hundred　for　what？〃
　
　Bridget　slipped　a　milky　arm　around　Augustine's　waist　and　pulled　him　close。　The　obvious　implant　in　her　left　breast　felt　like　a　sack　of　nickels　against　his　rib　cage。　〃Seventy…five；〃　she　said；　dropping　her　eyes　to　the　bright　tattoo；　〃and　I'll　give　you　a　taste　of　my　Tootsie　Pop。〃
　
　〃Can't；〃　Augustine　said。　〃Diabetic。〃
　
　Jasmine　gave　a　biting　laugh。　〃You're　both　pitiful。　Bridget；　let　'George　from　California'　go　find　his　sisters。〃　She　sat　cross…legged　on　the　bed　and　applied　pungent　glue　to　a　broken　artificial　fingernail。　〃Boy；　this　weather's　suck…o；〃　she　muttered；　to　no　one。
　
　Bridget's　motivational　hug　went　slack；　and　slowly　she　recoiled　from　Augustine's　side。　〃Our　man　George　has　a　gun。〃　She　announced　it　with　a　mix　of　alarm　and　regret。　〃I　felt　it。〃
　
　Jasmine；　blowing　on　her　glue　job；　looked　up。　〃Goddamn；　Bridget；　I　knew　it！　You　happy　now？　We're　busted。〃
　
　〃No　you're　not。〃　Augustine　took　out　the　pistol　and　displayed　it　in　a　loose　and　casual　way；　hoping　to　quell　their　concerns。　〃I'm　not　a　cop；　I　promise。〃
　
　Jasmine's　eyes　narrowed。　〃Shit；　now　I　know。　The　squeaker　sent　you。〃
　
　〃Who？〃
　
　〃Avila。〃
　
　〃Never　heard　of　him。〃
　
　Bridget　backpedaled　to　the　bed　and　sat　next　to　her　friend。　Nervously　she　crossed　her　arms　over　her　breasts。　〃Then　who　the　hell　are　you；　George？　What　is　it　you're　after？〃
　
　〃Information。〃
　
　〃Yeah；　right。〃
　
　〃Really。　I　just　want　you　to　tell　me　about　this　'Snapper；'〃　said　Augustine；　〃and　I　also　want　to　know　if　you　two　ladies　can　keep　a　secret。〃
　
　
　
　CHAPTER　TWENTY…FIVE
　
　
　The　professor's　VW　van　ran　out　of　gas　two　miles　shy　of　the　Fort　Drum　service　plaza。　Neria　Torres　stood　by　the　Turnpike　and　flagged　down　a　truck。　It　was　an　old　Chevy　pickup；　three　men　in　the　cab；　four　others　sprawled　in　the　bed。　They　were　from　Tennessee。　Neria　wasn't　crazy　about　the　odds。
　
　〃Looking　for　work；〃　explained　the　driver；　a　wiry；　unshaven　fellow　with　biblical　tattoos　on　both　arms。　He　said　his　first　name　was　Matthew　and　his　middle　name　was　Luke。
　
　Neria　was　nervous　nonetheless。　The　men　stared　ravenously。　〃What　do　you　guys　do？〃　she　asked。
　
　〃Construction。　We're　here　for　the　hurricane。〃　Matthew　had　a　spare　gas　can。　He　poured　four　gallons　into　the　van。　Neria　thanked　him。
　
　She　said；　〃All　I　can　give　you　is　three　bucks。〃
　
　〃That's　fine。〃
　
　〃What　kind　of　construction？〃
　
　Matthew　said：　〃Any　damn　thing　we　can　find。〃　The　other　men　laughed。　〃We　do　trees；　also。　I　got　chain　saw　experience；〃　Matthew　added。
　
　Neria　Torres　didn't　ask　if　the　crew　was　licensed　to　do　business　in　Florida。　She　knew　the　answer。　The　men　climbed　out　of　the　truck　to　stretch　their　legs　and　urinate。
　
　One　of　them　was　actually　mannered　enough　to　turn　his　back　while　unzipping。
　
　Neria　decided　it　was　a　good　time　to　go。　Matthew　stood　between　her　and　the　van。　〃I　dint　ketch　your　name。〃
　
　〃Neria。〃
　
　〃That's　Cuban；　right？〃
　
　〃Yes。〃
　
　〃You　don't　talk　with　no　accent。〃
　
　She　thought：　Well；　thank　you；　Gomer。　〃I　was　born　in　Miami；〃　she　said。
　
　Matthew　seemed　pleased。　〃So　you're　on　the　way　home…hey；　how'd　you　make　out　in　the　big　blow？〃
　
　Neria　said；　〃I　won't　know　till　I　get　there。〃
　
　〃We　do　residential。〃
　
　〃Do　you　really。〃
　
　〃Wood　or　masonry；　it　don't　matter。　Also　roofs。　We　got　a　helluva　tar　man。〃　Matthew　pointed。　〃That　bald　guy　doin'　his　bidness　in　the　bushes…he　worked　on　that　new　Wal…Mart　in　Chat'nooga。　My　wife's　cousin　Chip。〃
　
　Neria　Torres　said；　〃From　what　I　understand；　you　won't　have　a　bit　of　trouble　finding　jobs　when　you　get　to　Dade　County。〃
　
　〃Hey；　what　about　your　place？〃
　
　〃I　don't　know。　I　haven't　seen　it　yet。〃
　
　〃So　it　could　be　totaled；〃　Matthew　said；　hopefully。
　
　Slowly　Neria　opened　the　door　of　the　van。　Only　when　it　stubbed　his　shoulder　blades　did　Matthew　move　out　of　the　way。
　
　Neria　got　behind　the　wheel　and　revved　the　engine。　〃Tell　you　what。　When　I　get　home　and　see　how　the　roof　looks；　then　I'll　give　you　a　call。　Where　you　staying？〃
　
　The　other　workers　laughed　again。　〃Sterno　Hilton；〃　said　Matthew。　〃See；　we're　campin'　out。〃　He　said　they　couldn't　afford　a　motel；　no　way。
　
　Neria　fumbled　in　the　console　until　she　found　a　gnawed　stub　of　pencil　and　one　of　the　professor's　match…books；　which　reeked　of　weed。　She　wrote　down　a　bogus　telephone　number　and　gave　it　to　Matthew。　〃OK；　then；　you　call　me。〃
　
　He　didn't　even　glance　at　the　number。　〃I　got　a　better　idea。　Since　none　of　us　ever　been　to　Miami　before　。。。〃
　
　Oh　no！　she　thought。　Please　no。
　
　〃。。。　we'll　just　follow　you　down。　That　way；　we're　sure　not　to　get　lost。　And　if　your　place　needs　work；　we　can　git　on　it　rightaways。〃
　
　Matthew's　plan　was　well　received　by　his　crew。　Neria　said；　uselessly：　〃I　don't　think　that's　a　good　idea。〃
　
　〃We　got　references。〃
　
　She　was　eyeing　the　pickup　truck；　wondering　if　there　was　a　chance　in　hell　that　the　professor's　van　could　outrun　it。
　
　〃We　kicked　some　ass　over　Charleston；〃　Matthew　was　saying；　〃after　Hurricane　Hugo。〃
　
　Neria　said；　〃It's　getting　pretty　late。〃
　
　〃We'll　be　right　behind　you。〃
　
　And　they　were；　all　the　way　down　the　Turnpike。
　
　The　truck's　solitary　headlight；　stuck　on　high　beam；　illuminated　the　interior　of　the　VW　van　like　a　TV　studio。　Neria　stiffened　in　the　harsh　brightness；　knowing　that　seven　pairs　of　inbred　male　eyes　were　fixed　on　the　back　of　her　head。　She　drove　ludicrously　slow；　hoping　the　rednecks　would　grow　impatient　and　decide　to　pass。　They　didn't。
　
　All　she　could　do　was　make　the　best　of　it。　Even　if　the　Neanderthals　didn't　know　a　thing　about　construction；　they　might　be　helpful　in　tracking　a　thieving　husband。
　
　Max　Lamb　cracked　the　door　to　poke　his　head　out。　He'd　never　met　an　FBI　man　before。　This　one　didn't　look　like　Efrem　Zimbalist　Jr。　He　wore　a　green　Polo　shirt；　tan　Dockers　and　cordovan　Bass　Weejuns。　He　also　toted　a　bag　from　Ace　Hardware。
　
　When　it　came　to　name　brands；　Max　was　nothing　if　not　observant。　He　believed　it　was　part　of　his　job；　knowing　who　in　America　was　buying　what。
　
　The　agent　said；　〃Is　Augustine　home？〃
　
　〃No；　he　isn't。〃
　
　〃Who　are　you？〃
　
　〃Could　I　see　some　ID？〃　Max　asked。
　
　The　agent　sho