The Book of Fate

94

Fighting traffic for nearly an hour, Rogo veered to the right, zipping off the highway at the exit for Griffin Road in Fort Lauderdale.

“Y’know, for a guy who deals with traffic tickets every single day,” Dreidel said, gripping the inside door handle for support, “you think you’d appreciate safe driving a bit more.”

“If I get a ticket, I’ll get us off,” Rogo said coldly, jabbing the gas and going even faster down the dark off-ramp. Wes had enough of a head start. Priority now was finding why Boyle was seeing Dr. Eng — in Florida — the week before the shooting.

“There’s no way he’ll even be there,” Dreidel said, looking down at his watch. “I mean, name one doctor who works past five o’clock,” he added with a nervous laugh.

“Stop talking, okay? We’re almost there.”

With a sharp left that took them under the overpass of I-95, the blue Toyota headed west on Griffin, past a string of check-cashing stores, two thrift shops, and an adult video store called AAA to XXX.

“Great neighborhood,” Rogo pointed out as they passed the bright neon purple and green sign for the Fantasy Lounge.

“It’s not that ba—”

Directly above them, a thunderous rumble ripped through the sky as a red and white 747 whizzed overhead, coming in for a landing at Fort Lauderdale Airport, which, judging from the height of the plane, was barely a mile behind them.

“Maybe Dr. Eng just likes cheap rents,” Dreidel said as Rogo reread the address from the entry in Boyle’s old calendar.

“If we’re lucky, you’ll be able to ask him personally,” Rogo said, pointing out the front windshield. Directly ahead, just past a funeral home, bright lights lit up a narrow office park and its modern four-story white building with frosted-glass doors and windows. Along the upper half of the building, a thin yellow horizontal stripe ran just below the roofline.

2678 Griffin Road.