The Edge of America by Jon Sealy

Author:Jon Sealy [Sealy, Jon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Haywire Books
Published: 2019-09-09T11:00:00+00:00

18

From his car, Falcon had watched the redheaded woman enter West’s house. She walked with purpose, like maybe she was his mistress, but then she jimmied the lock. He’d known many skilled burglars in his days as a cop—and were he still a cop, he’d be forced to arrest her now for breaking and entering—but this woman was a true pro. She glided in like a housecat and immediately began to turn on the lights. No doubt she had a cover story if anyone confronted her.

Night had settled in over the city, the sky still aglow from light pollution. Bats flittered overhead, while at street level palmettos and mangroves took on a life of their own as shadows flickered against the backdrop of sodium street lamps. Falcon shifted and stretched his neck and back, and squinted at West’s house. The man lived in a fine two-story bungalow, stucco and terracotta staples of Miami homesteads, yet the chain-link fence and overgrown grass suggested a fall. Here was a man carrying two mortgages, saddled with alimony and child support, leveraged to the hilt and unable to afford private lawn care. Some folks did fine taking care of their own yards—Falcon had never paid someone to mow his grass—but this was a city of excess. Whether you splurged for lawn care said something about your character. You are who you hire. All the lawns on this strip were on the verge of unkempt, the houses settled like a man in middle age grown soft around the middle. South Florida would do that to a piece of property.

He got out with his camera in tow and crept up to one of the downstairs windows. Over sixty, he was too old to be clambering around in the bushes, but he caught a break when she came into the living room and turned on the light. He held his camera up and snapped a few photos while she walked across the room. When she got closer, he ducked down beneath the windowsill and held his breath. Although it was dark out here, there was no guarantee she hadn’t spotted him, somehow, or heard the shutter and the winding film. Falcon eased away from the window, startled to see her figure so close but with her back turned.

He scampered out of the shrubbery and limped back to his car. Whatever photo he took would have to do. He wasn’t yet ready to break cover, not until he figured out who all the players were in Bobby West’s life. The CIA, the Artium Group associates, his family. If Juan Delgado was right, the company was into something untoward, which could simply be hidden investments, repurchased loans to hide financial activity, cooked books with Wall Street, lobbyist support.

Or it could be the CIA was into something with the Cubans. Another Bay of Pigs? Surely this administration would never go for that, even with the bluster and proxy wars with the Evil Empire, which meant there was more on heaven and earth—or at least the U.

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