spotlight. Anthony got out and Gail made the introductions.
In Miami, and if this woman had not been in uniform, Anthony might have politely kissed her cheek. They shook hands. Her face was young and smooth. A little makeup would have made it pretty. She wore her hair in a single braid. Brown eyes moved over him in a neutral way. "Glad to meet you. So. You guys just got in?"
"We were on our way to the hotel," Anthony said with an innocent lift of his brows. "I was a little lost, and if I didn't see the lightâ"
Gail hugged her arm. "Jackie, you look amazing. How are you?"
"Good, good."
"Your dad?"
"He's fine. Busy over at the sheriff's office. You know. Hey, I got your message, but I was in the middle of a DUI."
Gail laughed, delighted. "I remember when you were six years old you said you wanted to be a cop. I never doubted for a moment you would. I bet you're wonderful."
"Well. I like it." To Anthony's astonishment, she blushed.
Fingers linked together, the two women smiled at each other. Gail tall and slender, with delicate hands and a small waist. Her cousin in a bulletproof vest. There was no way to tell what was underneath. Pepper spray and a Glock 19 rode on one hip, a radio and collapsible baton on the other. Light gleamed on the badge over her left pocket, an American flag was sewn on the right, and patches decorated her sleeves. The silver name tag said J. Bryce. Anthony wondered how long it would take her to put him on the ground with a knee in his back.
She said, "Are you busy tomorrow afternoon? Diddy's having his birthday party out at the ranch. He just turned eighty years old, can you believe that? The historical society is putting it on. They're having barbecue, a band, games for the kids, a roping demonstration. See, Diddy hangs out a lot at the museum, telling stories about the way it used to be." She laughed and made quotation marks with her fingers. " 'Diddy Bryce, Martin County Treasure.' It'll be fun. I mean, if you're not busy."
"We'd love to come," Gail said. "What time?"
"It's on from noon till five. Drop by anytime." She pulled a pen and notebook from her left shirt pocket and wrote directions, then ripped the sheet out and gave it to Gail. "Call me if you get lost. I always keep my cell phone on."
The two women embraced again. "It's good to see you, Jackie."
"You too." She gripped Anthony's hand firmly, then let go. "See you tomorrow."
Jackie Bryce took a few steps toward her cruiser, then stopped, pivoted in her thick-soled black shoes, and came back, standing squarely in front of him. "You need to be careful on the road. Yellow means slow down, not speed up and get through it like down in Miami, okay? I'm going to let it go this time."
He made a slight inclination of his head. "Thank you."
"Sure. Y'all have a nice evening. Don't forget your seat belts."
She got back into her patrol car and pulled around the Cadillac. At the street a rear tire caught the curb, squealing.
Gail said, "Jackie really isn't as humorless as she seems."
"It's the rookie cop syndrome," Anthony said. "Did you notice the police department patch on her sleeve?"
"No, what about it?"
"City of Stuart. Sailfish Capital of the World. Cono. What a place."
CHAPTER 5
"Bonboncita, let's not ruin dinner talking about this case. Where are your notes? Read them to me on the way to the hotel Tell me how the police came to arrest an innocent man for murder. "
"It's complicated."
"I'll stop you if I have any questions."
Monday, February 6,1989
The city of Stuart is surrounded on three sides by the St. Lucie River, which curves up and over, then flows south to the intracoastal waterway. In the late 1800s roads were so few and the scrub palmetto so thick that pioneers built their houses facing the river and visited their neighbors by boat. When the railroad pushed through, commerce followed, and the main highway has become a multilaned corridor of shopping malls, branch banks, fast-food franchises, and car
In Miami, and if this woman had not been in uniform, Anthony might have politely kissed her cheek. They shook hands. Her face was young and smooth. A little makeup would have made it pretty. She wore her hair in a single braid. Brown eyes moved over him in a neutral way. "Glad to meet you. So. You guys just got in?"
"We were on our way to the hotel," Anthony said with an innocent lift of his brows. "I was a little lost, and if I didn't see the lightâ"
Gail hugged her arm. "Jackie, you look amazing. How are you?"
"Good, good."
"Your dad?"
"He's fine. Busy over at the sheriff's office. You know. Hey, I got your message, but I was in the middle of a DUI."
Gail laughed, delighted. "I remember when you were six years old you said you wanted to be a cop. I never doubted for a moment you would. I bet you're wonderful."
"Well. I like it." To Anthony's astonishment, she blushed.
Fingers linked together, the two women smiled at each other. Gail tall and slender, with delicate hands and a small waist. Her cousin in a bulletproof vest. There was no way to tell what was underneath. Pepper spray and a Glock 19 rode on one hip, a radio and collapsible baton on the other. Light gleamed on the badge over her left pocket, an American flag was sewn on the right, and patches decorated her sleeves. The silver name tag said J. Bryce. Anthony wondered how long it would take her to put him on the ground with a knee in his back.
She said, "Are you busy tomorrow afternoon? Diddy's having his birthday party out at the ranch. He just turned eighty years old, can you believe that? The historical society is putting it on. They're having barbecue, a band, games for the kids, a roping demonstration. See, Diddy hangs out a lot at the museum, telling stories about the way it used to be." She laughed and made quotation marks with her fingers. " 'Diddy Bryce, Martin County Treasure.' It'll be fun. I mean, if you're not busy."
"We'd love to come," Gail said. "What time?"
"It's on from noon till five. Drop by anytime." She pulled a pen and notebook from her left shirt pocket and wrote directions, then ripped the sheet out and gave it to Gail. "Call me if you get lost. I always keep my cell phone on."
The two women embraced again. "It's good to see you, Jackie."
"You too." She gripped Anthony's hand firmly, then let go. "See you tomorrow."
Jackie Bryce took a few steps toward her cruiser, then stopped, pivoted in her thick-soled black shoes, and came back, standing squarely in front of him. "You need to be careful on the road. Yellow means slow down, not speed up and get through it like down in Miami, okay? I'm going to let it go this time."
He made a slight inclination of his head. "Thank you."
"Sure. Y'all have a nice evening. Don't forget your seat belts."
She got back into her patrol car and pulled around the Cadillac. At the street a rear tire caught the curb, squealing.
Gail said, "Jackie really isn't as humorless as she seems."
"It's the rookie cop syndrome," Anthony said. "Did you notice the police department patch on her sleeve?"
"No, what about it?"
"City of Stuart. Sailfish Capital of the World. Cono. What a place."
CHAPTER 5
"Bonboncita, let's not ruin dinner talking about this case. Where are your notes? Read them to me on the way to the hotel Tell me how the police came to arrest an innocent man for murder. "
"It's complicated."
"I'll stop you if I have any questions."
Monday, February 6,1989
The city of Stuart is surrounded on three sides by the St. Lucie River, which curves up and over, then flows south to the intracoastal waterway. In the late 1800s roads were so few and the scrub palmetto so thick that pioneers built their houses facing the river and visited their neighbors by boat. When the railroad pushed through, commerce followed, and the main highway has become a multilaned corridor of shopping malls, branch banks, fast-food franchises, and car
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