"We thought he was clean, too. What makes you think the Harston woman might not be?"

"She lives in a strange little town called Lake Winachobee, half an hour west of here. It doesn't appear on any map. This morning, Ham and I went out there, on the pretense of looking for some fishing in the lake of the same name, and we stumbled into a huge gun show."

"Gun show?"

"A really big one, set up in a circus tent."

"Well, there are lots of those all over the country."

"Yes, but apparently, this one is by invitation only."

"Invitation by whom?"

"I don't know, but Ham and I were spotted immediately as not being on the party list, and three men came over and checked us out."

"Give you a hard time?"

"In a polite way. When they heard that we, especially Ham, were ex-military, they relaxed a little. Ham dropped a few names- Vietnam, Desert Storm-and they seemed to like that."

"You get their names?"

"One was named Peck Rawlings."

Harry took out a notebook and wrote down the name.

"The other two we talked to were named Jim Cross and James Farrow."

Harry wrote them down. "I'll run them through the system and see if the computer likes them."

"I'd appreciate that. They had one hell of a firepower demonstration, too." Holly told him about the pit and the old cars.

"I've heard of that sort of thing. It's how they get their jollies, I guess."

"I guess."

"And they had this weapon called a Barrett's rifle."

"That, I know about," Harry said. "It was one of the reasons for the raid on that Branch Davidian place, out in Waco."

"How so?"

"Our people got a report that they had one or more Barrett's rifles; that's why all that armor was brought in. There were rumors that a round from that thing would penetrate a Bradley fighting vehicle. Nobody knew for sure, and that made everybody very nervous."

"I can see how it might," Ham said. He told Harry about his experience with the Barrett's rifle in Iraq.

"Very scary weapon," Harry said, nodding.

"I find this little town scary," Holly said. "It has really given me the willies. Can you check it out?"

Harry looked serious. "Well, if this is a tight little group, like the Branch Davidians, it takes a lot of time to penetrate one of those. I don't think it would be good for me to just send a carload of agents out there and start questioning people. Better they don't know we're looking at them."

"I think Ham might hear from them again," Holly said. "They seemed real interested in him."

Harry turned to Ham. "You think they might contact you?"

Ham shrugged. "Who knows?"

"If they do, will you play along a little?"

Ham shrugged again. "Let's see how it goes. I don't have much time for people like that."

"Don't mention that to them," Harry said.

Holly arrived at her office on Monday morning to find a message to call Joy Williams at Southern Trust; it was marked "urgent." Holly picked up the phone.

"Joy Williams."

"Hi, Joy, it's Holly Barker, from the Orchid Beach Police Department."

"Oh, Chief," Williams said. "Thanks for calling me back so quickly."

"What can I do for you?"

"Well, I feel kind of embarrassed about this."

"About what?"

"About my assessment of a certain person at our meeting the other day."

"Which person is that?"

"Franklin Morris."

"The loan officer?"

"That's the one."

"What about him?"

"Well, he didn't show up at church on Sunday, which is unusual. I can't ever remember his missing a service."

"Do you think something may be wrong with him? Ill, maybe?"

"Ill, no; wrong, yes."

"Tell me."

"Well, he didn't show up for work this morning, either, and he's usually here by eight. I called his home, and there was no answer."

"Did you send someone to his house?"

"I went myself."

"And what did you find?"

"I didn't find anything."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand, Joy."

"I mean, there wasn't anything to find. Nobody answered the door, and when I looked through a window, the house was empty."

"You mean there was nobody home?"

"There was nothing there-no people, no furniture, no nothing."

"You mean, he has decamped?"

"I think that's the perfect word, 'decamped.' I checked with his immediate supervisor and the other people on the platform, and none of them had heard a word from him."

"As I recall, you said he had come from your Miami branch?"

"No, I said he had come from Miami. We don't have a branch in Miami."

"I must have misunderstood," Holly said. "Did he come from another bank?"

"Yes, he had previously been at South Beach Bank. When he applied here, he said he wanted to get his family away from the big city and into a smaller, friendlier town."

"Did you check his employment there?"

"Yes, I faxed them and asked about him. I got a faxed reply the same day from the president of the bank. He said he understood Franklin's reasons far wanting to leave Miami, and he gave him the highest recommendation."

"Have you spoken to the Miami bank president about this?"

"Not yet. I thought maybe you should speak to him."

"I'll be over there shortly," Holly said, "and we'll get to the bottom of this."

"Thank you, Chief."

Holly went to Hurd Wallace's office. "Remember the young loan officer who was the other recent hire at Southern Trust?"

"Yep."

"Sounds like he's taken a very big powder. I'm going over there now to find out what I can."

"Need any help?"

"Not yet. I'll call you if I do."

Holly collected Daisy and drove over to the bank. When she entered Joy Williams's office, the woman looked flustered.

"What's wrong, Joy?"

"I called South Beach Bank, and the number had been disconnected. So had the fax number."

"You said the president of the bank faxed you a recommendation?"

Williams handed over a letter. Holly took it, sat down and read the letter.

"It looks genuine enough," Holly said.

"Yes, it has all the right elements for a bank letterhead," Joy agreed.

"Did you try information, to see if the bank had moved?"

"I did. There was no listing for a South Beach Bank anywhere in Dade County. Also, I looked them up in a directory of banks, and they simply don't exist."

"May I use your phone, Joy?"

"Of course."

"And I wonder if you'd do me a favor while I'm calling."

"Anything."

"Would you please go down to the platform and ask Mr. Morris's coworkers not to touch his desk or anything on it?"

"Of course." Joy got up and left the office.

Holly dialed the station and got Hurd. "Will you send our tech over here? I want to go over Morris's desk and see if we can pick up some prints we can run. I want anyone who might have touched his desk printed, too."

"Sure thing. They're on their way."

Holly walked down to the platform, where Joy Williams had gathered the bank's officers together.

"Oh, here's Chief Barker, now," she said.

"Good morning, folks. I guess Joy has asked you not to touch Mr. Morris's desk?"

Everybody nodded.

"I've got a fingerprint technician on the way here now to see if we can lift Mr. Morris's fingerprints from his desk. It's important for me to know if any of you have touched the desk."

A young woman's hand went up.

"Your name?"

"Sally Duff," the young woman said. "I'm Mr. Morris's secretary. I mean, I work for all the people on the platform. I think I've touched it."

"We'll want to get your fingerprints, too," Holly said.

"But I haven't done anything wrong," she protested.

"I know that. We just have to be able to distinguish your fingerprints from Mr. Morris's."