ith several men of the tribe。 When he returned； he declared it was time to leave。
Max said； 〃Where's my stuff？〃 He was worried about his billfold and clothes。
〃Right here。〃 Skink jerked a thumb toward his backpack。
〃And my Sony？〃
〃Gave it to the old man。 He's got seven grandchildren； so he'll have a ball。〃
〃What about my tapes？〃
Skink laughed。 〃He loved 'em。 That monkey attack was something special。 Max； lift your arms。〃 He spritzed the prisoner with more bug juice。
Max Lamb； somberly： 〃That Handycam retails for about nine hundred bucks。〃
〃It's not like I gave it away。 I traded。〃
〃For what？〃
Skink chucked him on the shoulder。 〃I'll bet you've never been on an airboat。〃
〃Oh no。 Please。〃
〃Hey； you wanted to see Florida。〃
It wasn't easy being a black Highway Patrol trooper in Florida。 It was even harder if you were involved intimately with a white trooper； the way Jim Tile was involved with Brenda Rourke。
They'd met at a training seminar about the newest gadgets for clocking speeders。 In the classroom they were seated next to each other。 Jim Tile liked Brenda Rourke right away。 She had a sane and healthy outlook on the job； and she made him laugh。 They traded stories about freaky traffic stops； lousy pay and the impossible FHP bureaucracy。 Because he was black； and few fellow officers were； Jim Tile rarely felt fortable in a roomful of state troopers。 But he felt fine next to Brenda Rourke； partly because she was a minority； too； the Highway Patrol employed even fewer women than blacks or Latins。
During one session； a buzz…cut redneck shot a rat…eyed look at Jim Tile to remind him that Trooper Rourke was a white girl； and that still counted for plenty in parts of Florida。 Jim Tile didn't get up and move； he kept his seat beside Brenda。 It took the cracker trooper only about two hours to quit glaring。
At the lunch break； Jim Tile and Brenda Rourke went to an Arby's。 She was worried about her uping transfer to South Florida； Jim Tile couldn't say much to allay her fears。 She said she was studying Spanish； in preparation for road duty in Miami。 The first phrase she'd learned was： Sale del carro con las manos arriba。 Out of the car with your hands up！
At the time； Jim Tile held no romantic intentions。 Brenda Rourke was a nice person； that was all。 He never even asked if she had a boyfriend。 A few months later； when he was down in Dade County for a trial； he ran into her at FHP headquarters。 Later they went to dinner and then to Brenda's apartment； where they were up until three in the morning； chatting； of all things… initially out of nervousness； and later out of an easy intimacy。 The trial lasted six days； and every night Jim Tile found himself back at Brenda's place。 Every morning they awakened exactly as they'd fallen asleep… her head in the crook of his right shoulder； his feet hanging off the short bed。 He'd never felt so peaceful。 After the trial ended and Jim Tile returned to North Florida； he and Brenda took turns muting for long weekends。
He wasn't much of a talker； but Brenda could drag it out of him。 She especially liked to hear about the time he was assigned to guard the governor of Florida…not just any governor； but the one whp'd quit； disappeared and bee a legendary recluse。 Brenda had been in high school； but she remembered when it happened。 The newspapers and TV had gone wild。 〃Mentally unstable；〃 was what her twelfth…grade civics teacher had said of the runaway governor。
When Jim Tile had heard that； he threw back his head and laughed。 Brenda would sit cross…legged on the carpet； her chin in her hands； engrossed by his stories of the one they now called Skink。 Out of loyalty and prudence； Jim Tile didn't mention that he and the man had remained the closest of friends。
〃I wish I'd met him；〃 Brenda had said； in the past tense； as if Skink were dead。 Because Jim Tile had； perhaps unconsciously； made it sound like he was。
Now； two years later； it seemed that Brenda's improbable wish might e true。 The governor had surfaced in the hurricane zone。
On the ride back from Card Sound； she asked： 〃Why would he tie himself to a bridge during a storm？〃 It was the logical question。
Jim Tile said； 〃He's been waiting for a big one。〃
〃What for？〃
〃Brenda； I can't explain。 It only makes sense if you know him。〃
She said nothing for a mile or two； then： 〃Why didn't you tell me that you two still talk？〃
〃Because we seldom do。〃
〃Don't you trust me？〃
〃Of course。〃 He pulled her close enough to steal a kiss。
She pulled away； a spark in her pale…blue eyes。
〃You're going to try to find him。 e on； Jim； be straight with me。〃
〃I'm afraid he's got a loose wire。 That's not good。〃
〃This isn't the first time； is it？〃
〃No；〃 said Jim Tile； 〃it's not the first time。〃
Brenda brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles lightly。 〃It's OK； big guy。 I understand about friends。〃
CHAPTER FIVE
When they got to Augustine's house； Bonnie Lamb called her answering machine in New York。 She listened twice to Max's message； then replayed it for Augustine。
〃What do you think？〃 she asked。
〃Not good。 Is your husband worth a lot of money？〃
〃He does all right； but he's no millionaire。〃
〃And his family？〃
Bonnie said her husband's father was quite wealthy。 〃But I'm sure Max wasn't foolish enough to mention it to the kidnappers。〃
Augustine made no such assumption。 He heated tomato soup for Bonnie and put clean linens on the bed in the guest room。 Then he went to the den and called a friend with the FBI。 By the time he got off the phone； Bonnie Lamb had fallen asleep on the living…room sofa。 He carried her to the spare room and tucked her under the covers。 Then he went to the kitchen and fixed two large rib…eye steaks and a baked potato； which he washed down with a cold bottle of Amstel。
Later he took a long hot shower and thought about how wonderful Mrs。 Lamb…warm and damp from the rain and sweat…had smelled in his arms。 It felt good to have a woman in the house again； even for just a night。 Augustine wrapped himself in a towel and stretched out on the hardwood floor in front of the television。 He flipped back and forth between local news broadcasts； hoping not to see any of his dead uncle's wild animals running amok； or Mrs。 Lamb's husband being loaded into a coroner's wagon。
At midnight Augustine heard a cry from the guest room。 He correctly surmised that Mrs。 Lamb had discovered his skull collection。 He found her sitting up； the covers pulled to her chin。 She was gazing at the wall。
〃I thought it was a dream；〃 she said。
〃Please don't be afraid。〃
〃Are they real？〃
〃Friends send them to me；〃 Augustine said； 〃from abroad； mostly。 One was a Christmas present from a fishing guide in Islamorada。〃 He wasn't sure what Bonnie Lamb thought of his hobby； so he apologized for the fright。 〃Some people collect coins。 I'm into forensic artifacts。〃
〃Body parts？〃
〃Not fresh ones…artifacts。 Believe it or not； a good skull is hard to e by。〃
That was the line that usually sent them bolting for the door。 Bonnie didn't move。
〃Can I look？〃
Augustine took one from a shelf。 She inspected it casually； as if it were a cantaloupe in a grocery store。 Augustine smiled； he liked this lady。
〃Male or female？〃 Bonnie turned the skull in her hands。
〃Male； late twenties； early thirties。 Guyanese； circa 1940。 Came from a medical school in Texas。〃
Bonnie asked why the lower jaw was missing。 Augustine explained that it fell off when the facial muscles decayed。 Most old skulls were found without the mandible。
Lifting it by the eye sockets； Bonnie returned the spooky relic to its place on the wall。 〃How many have you got up there？〃
〃Nineteen。〃
She whistled。 〃And how many are women？〃
〃None；〃 said Augustine。 〃They're all young males。 So you've got nothing to worry your pretty head about。〃
She rolled her eyes at the joke； then asked： 〃Why all males？〃
〃To remind me of my own mortality。〃
Bonnie groaned。 〃You're one of those。〃
〃Other times；〃 Augustine said； 〃when I'm sure my life has gone to hell； I e in here and think about what happened to these poor bastards。 It improves my outlook considerably。〃
She said； 〃Well； that makes about as much sense as everything else。 Can I take a shower？〃
Later； over coffee； he told her what the FBI man had said。 〃They'll treat your husband's disappearance as a kidnapping when there's a credible ransom demand。 And he stressed the word 'credible。'〃
〃But what about the message on the machine？ That other man's voice cutting in？〃
〃Of course they'll listen to it。 But I've got to warn you； they're shorthanded right now。 Lots of agents got hit hard by the storm； so they're out on personal leave。〃
Bonnie was exasperated by the lack of interest in Max's plight。 Augustine explained that restless husbands often used natural disasters as a cover to flee their wives。 Precious manpower and resources were wasted