Trap Line by Carl Hiaasen Page A

whole trap, but it’ll save you a few dollars, getting those buoys back.”
    “Sure will,” Albury said. “Thanks, Teal.” He patted his friend on the back, but he didn’t have the heart to tell him that the markers were ancient history. Albury had no use for them anymore.

Chapter 7
    LAURIE SAT ON the bed in a thin lime-colored T-shirt. Albury stuffed random handfuls of underwear, shorts, and ratty boat pants into an old duffel bag. He crammed a wad of fifty-dollar bills into a pair of socks and tossed them in with the rest.
    “So it’s a big secret. Again,” Laurie said sharply.
    “It would be no good for you to know.”
    “It has to do with the bust, doesn’t it?”
    Albury stopped packing and sat down next to her on the bed. When he kissed her on the cheek, his eyes involuntarily dropped to her breasts and the reddish thatch of hair, dangerously visible through the shirt. Albury did his best to change the subject, but Laurie was in no mood.
    “This will look bad, Breeze, you leaving like this.”
    “Just for a few days.”
    “Bobby Freed says he’s going to have the grand jury call you in for questioning. He wants you to talk about Barnett. He knows your case was fixed….”
    “Hold on. What do you mean, he knows? Did you—”
    Laurie tossed her head back and laughed sarcastically. “No, I didn’t say anything. Jesus, Breeze, give me a little credit. I’m trying to help is all. I’m trying to give you a little fair warning that this thing will not go away. I love you, sometimes, but the dumbest thing you could do right now is run another load for those goddamn hoods.”
    “That’s not what I’m doing. I promise.”
    She stared at him and her eyes softened. “Then what?”
    Albury aimed a kiss for a stellate freckle on her neck, but Laurie dodged him. “Why won’t you tell me?” she asked.
    Albury rose, sighed out loud, and ambled to the living room where Ricky was watching television. The kid saw the duffel bag and looked up inquiringly.
    “I’ll be gone for a few days,” Albury said softly. “Watch after Laurie.
    Ricky picked himself off the floor. “Going south?” he said, grinning.
    “Naw.” The kid’s smile made Albury’s heart dive like a wounded bird. Everything he cared about was on the line this time. “I’m gonna be up the Keys for a few days is all.”
    “Need another hand?”
    “No, thanks.”
    “C’mon, I’m sick of flipping burgers. I could use the fresh air.”
    “No way.”
    “God, Dad, you must think I’m still a baby.”
    Albury threw an arm around Ricky. “Son, you got baseball practice and your slider still needs work. Listen good, now. If anybody from the police or the grand jury comes around, you don’t know where I am or when I’ll be back. Same goes for that Manning lady from the Governor’s hit squad or whatever the hell she called it.”
    “’Kay, Dad. Just be careful this time. More careful than before.”
    ALBURY CALLED JIMMY and was relieved to hear that his mate had decided to go along. Whether it was the money or simple loyalty, Albury couldn’t be sure. Probably both.
    He told Jimmy he might look for a third man, and Jimmy said fine, the more the better as far as he was concerned. Albury found Augie Quintana at a bolita house on Petronia Street. With Albury going light on the details and heavy on the salary, Augie took ten seconds to make up his mind.
    “How long will we be gone?” was the young Cuban’s first question.
    “Few days at most.”
    “What do I tell my wife?”
    “You’re going to the Tortugas.”
    “And what do I tell my girlfriend?”
    “You’re shopping for a new El Dorado in Miami.”
    Albury slipped out of the trailer at four-thirty the next morning and sweet-talked the old Pontiac to life. Jimmy beat him to the fish house by fifteen minutes and was shoveling ice into the Diamond Cutter when Albury drove up. Together they hoisted a fifty-gallon fuel drum into the boat; Albury knew there would be no gassing up