“Yes,” Harry said.
“You mean a bank in Switzerland?”
“No.”
“Where is the bank, Harry?”
“In Freeport, Grand Bahama.”
Freeport, where Louis was from, the Bahamian Arabian. Bobby thought of it right away. But now the fortune-teller was looking over here again, brushing her hair aside. Looking at you, Bobby thought. You see that? Sure of it as he watched her turn her attention again to the man in the recliner, lying there with his eyes closed.
Dawn Navarro saying, “How much do you have in the account, Harry?”
“I don’t know the exact amount.”
“Roughly, how much would you say you have?”
“Close to three million,” Harry said.
Chip made a sound like he was letting his breath out. Bobby heard it, watching the fortune-teller, who was looking over here again, he believed smiling at him now, but he wasn’t sure.
Chip was gone before Bobby could stop him-while he and Louis were getting Harry ready to travel, covering his eyes and mouth and tying his hands with that silver duct tape. Bobby took Louis into the kitchen to tell him Chip was in too big a hurry; they should wait for dark to take Harry from the house. Louis said this was the way they planned it; all the trees and shit around the house, there was no way anybody would see them. He held up the keys to Harry’s car, saying, “You want to get rid of it, or you want me to?”
“You know how?”
“In my youth,” Louis said, “I boosted cars, sent them over to Nassau, Freeport, Eleuthera…”
“Freeport,” Bobby said, “where the guy has his money. You use to live there.”
“That’s a fact,” Louis said. “I been thinking on it. Do I know somebody knows somebody might work in that bank?”
“You didn’t say nothing to Chip?”
“He knows I’m from there.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t say nothing, did you?”
“Not yet.”
“You see a way to get the money?”
“I’m starting to have an idea, yeah.”
“We should talk about it before you tell Chip anything.”
“You want to cut him out?”
“I say I think we should talk,” Bobby said. He took the car keys. “You watch Harry. I’m gonna check on the fortune-teller, see how she’s doing.”
Louis said, “You don’t have time for that.”
“For what?” Bobby said. “What do you think I’m gonna do to her?”
They had put Reverend Dawn in the bedroom, out of the way. Bobby opened the door and looked in and there she was sitting on the bed twisting a strand of hair between her fingers. Bobby stepped in and closed the door and she stopped fooling with her hair.
He said, “How you doing?” Giving her a chance to come on to him in some way that women let you know they were interested.
She stared at him, but not with a look he recognized.
“You have my money?”
Bobby almost told her to see Chip; it was on the tip of his tongue. He changed his mind and said, “I’m gonna bring it to you, next week.” Giving her another chance to show some interest.
She kept staring at him and maybe it meant something, he wasn’t sure. He said, “Are you scared?”
She said, “Should I be?”
Bobby stared and she stared back at him.
“I like your act.”
“It’s real.”
“He was hypnotize, uh?”
“I checked his eyes.”
“What does that tell you?”
“They were rolled back. You can’t fake that.”
“I thought maybe it was too easy, what you got him to say.”
“Harry likes to talk about money. He pays cash for everything, even his car.”
“You like that car?”
“It’s all right.”
“Better than your little car. You know how much we gonna get from Harry?”
She said, “Look, I don’t want to know anything about what you’re doing. I don’t even want to talk to you.”
“You see what we doing.”
“I saw nothing. Harry was never here.”
“I was thinking you should get more than fifteen hundred.”
“I told Chip what I wanted; that’s it. And that’s all I’m doing for you.”
Bobby said, “You sure?”
Sunday, Raylan phoned Joyce from the restaurant in Delray Beach.
“The waiter remembers him. He said Harry had a few drinks, paid for the first one and then ran a tab. The reason the guy remembers him, Harry left his money on the table when he went in to use the phone.”
Joyce said, “That’s when he called and left the message. Said he’d call me later, but that was the last I heard.”
“The waiter said he kept an eye on Harry’s money.”
“I’ll bet he did.”
“No, he said he told Harry, when he was leaving, he ought to be more careful with it.”
“The guy he was meeting never showed up?”
“Doesn’t look like it. No, but there’s a lady hangs around here does tarot card readings?”
Joyce said right away, “Yes, he mentioned that,” and sounded excited about it. “Is she there?”
“Not on Sunday. The waiter said she sat down with Harry and I guess they just talked. She didn’t lay out the cards or anything.”
“But she was with him.”
“I guess. I don’t know how long.”
“Can you find out?”
“Listen, Joyce? The waiter said Harry was drinking doubles, throwing them down. I checked with Delray PD and Boca Raton, see if he might’ve been picked up.”
“He would’ve called,” Joyce said, “I’m his one phone call, his bail, his ride home…”
“Unless he didn’t want you to know he’d messed up again. He could’ve called somebody else, one of the guys used to work for him.”
“It was two days ago,” Joyce said. “Where is he? Raylan, he calls me every day for something.”
Tell me about it, Raylan thought, using his day off to look for a guy he wished would disappear from his life. Joyce, at the same time, saying how much she appreciated his help, sounding so polite, saying if anyone could find Harry… He might’ve said, What if I don’t want to find him? But didn’t and there was a silence. He was getting used to silences talking to her.
Her voice came on again, Joyce saying, “What if Harry went to see the tarot card lady and she told him… I don’t know, that he was about to take a trip, go to some exotic place. That would appeal to Harry. I think he might do whatever she said.”
“You mean made plans to see her later.”
“It’s possible.”
“Like she told him to go back to Italy, where he wouldn’t be bothering anybody.”
Joyce said, “I think it’s worth following up,” sounding so serious, sounding like that all the time lately. “Can you ask around, find out where she lives? Or get her number and I’ll call her.”
“I have her card,” Raylan said. “There’s a whole stack of them by the cash register.”
Joyce said, “You’re way ahead of me, aren’t you?”
“I’ll go see her, find out if Harry had his fortune told. Maybe, as long as I’m there, have her tell mine, see what’s in my future.”
“You believe in that?”
“I don’t know-maybe some of it.”
She said, “Well, you’re psychic yourself. You know things no one else does.”
It took him a moment to realize what she meant. Still at him. He said, “You want to go around on that again? I knew Tommy Bucks had a gun. I’ve thought about it since the other night and there’s no way I see it any different. I called him out and he knew it. If he didn’t pack his suitcase and leave he’d be packing a gun. That was his choice.”
“You called him out,” Joyce said. “What did you think, you were in a movie?”
It caught him by surprise, because he did see it that way sometimes. The idea of giving the guy twenty-four hours…
Joyce said, “What if he told you, sitting at that table, he didn’t have a gun?”
She wouldn’t let it go.
“Would you have shot him?”
“I don’t know if I would’ve or not. How’s that?”
The hell with it, let her think what she wanted.