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Keyes stood over Wiley and ordered him to sit up.
"You're in an ugly mood," Wiley said nervously. His ears rang. He felt like he was talking down a tu
Keyes took off his shirt and tied it around Wiley's mutilated leg. 'We haven't got much time," he said.
Wiley studied Brian intently; the gun made him a stranger. The violent eruption was u
"How'd you find me?"
"Never mind," Keyes said.
"Je
"No." So she had known. Of course she knew. "Give me the keys to the Mako," Keyes said.
Grudgingly Wiley handed them over.
He pointed at Kara Ly
Keyes didn't know how much longer he could hold up. He wanted to go now, while he still had the strength, while he was still propelled by whatever it was that let him pull the trigger one more time.
"Kara Ly
She said nothing, knowing that it wasn't finished yet. Not as long as Wiley could speak.
"Don't you want to hear a war story?" Wiley asked.
"Shut up," Keyes said.
"You want the boat? Then you've got to listen. Politely."
Keyes grabbed Wiley's wrist and looked at the watch. It was half-past five; they'd be cutting it close.
"A few years back, a little girl was kidnapped and murdered," Wiley said, turning to Kara Ly
"The Davenports," Keyes said.
"Hey, let me tell it!" Wiley said indignantly.
The rain had slackened to a sibilant drizzle. Keyes tore a piece of plastic from Kara Ly
"Brian came back with a great piece," Wiley said. "Mother, weeping hysterically; father, blind with rage. Tomorrow would be Collie Davenport's fourth birthday. Her room is full of bright presents, each tenderly wrapped. There's a Snoopy doll from Uncle De
Keyes sagged. He couldn't believe that Wiley remembered the story, word for word. It was amazing.
"A real tearjerker," Wiley pronounced. "That morning half of Miami was weeping into their Rice Krispies." He seemed oblivious of pain, of the thickening puddle of blood under his leg.
"Kara Ly
Keyes said, "That's enough."
"Don't be so modest," Wiley chided. "It's the only thing you ever wrote that made me jealous."
"I made it all up," Keyes said, taking Kara Ly
Wiley looked perturbed, as if Brian had spoiled the big punch line.
"I drove out to the house," Keyes said in a monotone. "I was expecting a crowd. Neighbors, relatives, you know. But there was only one car in the driveway, they were all alone ... I knocked on the door. Mrs. Davenport answered and I could see in her eyes she'd been though hell. Behind her, I saw how they'd put all of Callie's pictures out in the living room—on the piano, the sofas, the TV console, everywhere ... you never saw so many baby pictures. Mr. Davenport sat on the floor with an old photo album across his lap ... he was crying his heart out ...
"In a nice voice Mrs. Davenport asked me what I wanted. At first I couldn't say a damn thing and then I told her I was an insurance adjuster and I was looking for the Smiths' house and I must have got the wrong address. Then I drove back to my apartment and made up the whole story, all those swell quotes. That's what the Sunprinted."
"The ultimate impiety," Wiley intoned, "the rape of truth."
"He's right," Keyes said. "But I just couldn't bring myself to do it, to go in that house and intrude on those people's grief. So I invented the whole damn story."
"I think it took guts to walk away," Kara Ly
"Oh please." Wiley grimaced. "It was an act of profound cowardice. No self-respecting journalist turns his back on pain and suffering. It was an egregious and shameful thing, Pollya
Kara Ly
Keyes said to Kara Ly
"At least I hawk the truth," Wiley cut in. "That's what this campaign is all about—dramatizing the true consequence of folly." He struggled wobbly to his feet. He gained balance by clutching a sea-grape limb and shifting all weight to his left side. The other leg hung like a dead and blackening trunk.
"Brian, I don't know if you'll ever understand, but try. All that wretched grief the Davenports spent on their little girl is exactly what I feel when I think what's happened to this place. It's the same sense of loss, the same fury and primal lust for vengeance. The difference is, I can't turn my back the way you did. My particular villain is not some tattooed sex pervert, but an entire generation of blow-dried rapists with phones in their Volvos and five-million-dollar lines of credit and secretaries who give head. These are the kind of deviants who dreamed up the Osprey Club, idiots who couldn't tell an osprey from a fucking parakeet."
Kara Ly
"Skip—"
"Brian, Kara Ly
Keyes slipped the Browning into his belt. "Where's the boat, Skip?"
"I changed my mind," he said peevishly. "You'll have to find it yourself. If you don't, we all go boom together. That's a much better story, don't you think? Condo Island Blast Claims Three."
"Try four," Keyes said.
Wiley fingered his beard. His needle-sharp eyes went from Keyes to Kara Ly
"She's here, Skip."
"Je
Keyes pointed to the hardwoods.
"Je
"I thought we'd play some bridge," said Keyes.
"Why'd you bring her!" Wiley demanded angrily.
"So we'd be even."
Wiley said, "Brian, I had no idea you were such a mean-spirited sonofabitch." He looked profoundly disappointed.