The Butterfly Forest

SEVENTY-ONE

Later that night, on Nick’s boat over dinner, I told Dave and Nick about the attempted murder of Elizabeth Monroe and the Mexican drug family’s possible connection to the killings in the forest. “Luke Palmer faces a bond hearing tomorrow. Detective Sandberg says the DA’s office has been made aware of the latest. Bond is expected to be reduced.”

Dave cracked a fresh stone crab claw, dipped it in garlic butter and ate, savoring the taste of fresh-caught crab. “Sean, you were right. It’s much bigger than an ex con wandering around in the forest killing college kids. If it’s tied to the Mexican drug cartel, it’s a big cash crop for them. That would explain Elizabeth Monroe’s arsenic poisoning. In the wake of her daughter’s death, the grieving mother commits suicide. A non-suspicious death wouldn’t warrant an autopsy. These drug families are exceedingly secretive and protective of the locations they grow their cash crop, marijuana. Much of it, to the chagrin of the U.S. Department of Interior, appears to be in our national forests. Ocala National is perfect. It has a year-round growing season, heavy native foliage, and it’s very remote.”

“I’m hoping Izzy and his gang haven’t made the harvest yet.”

“Sean,” Nick said, pulling crabmeat out of the shell with his teeth. “You said the cops couldn’t find anything in there. Don’t go back in that forest. You do, and you might not ever come out.” His eyebrows pulled down, butter on his lips, eyes heavy and filled with worry. Max sat at his bare feet waiting for dropped food or handouts. She got both.

Dave said, “So Luke Palmer is the only living eyewitness to the killing of two or three people. If they ever do find this Izzy, our former San Quentin inmate, Mr. Palmer, becomes the star witness in a murder trial with large-scale international ramifications. He needs to be held in protective custody.”

Nick shook his head and brushed a fleck of crab meat from the tip of his nose. “I wouldn’t want to be in that dude’s shoes. Hell, Sean, after we saw you on CNN, sticking this Izzy’s dude’s face in front of those news cameras, you might have pissed this Pablo Gonzales off big time.”

Dave added, “To say nothing of the sheriff. A most brilliant and ballsy move, indeed. I’ve watched it twice on CNN. You cleverly gave the sheriff a plausible out, and you made it sound like you’d just come from Palmer’s cell with information the sheriff and media needed at that moment. Carpe diem.”

“May be a dumb thing,” Nick said, his moustache drooping, “because that picture of the Mexican, Izzy, was in your hand. People, especially insane people — criminals, see and hear what they want to hear and see.”

“Palmer saw a double homicide.”

“But Nick’s got a point. You opened up a Pandora’s Box if this Pablo Gonzales is as ruthless as the DEA believes him to be.”

I said nothing for a moment while Dave and Nick ate. “You both have helped me a lot with Max. I really appreciate it.”

Nick grinned. “When you start talkin’ like that, you leave. We don’t see you for a while. When we do see you, sometimes we don’t recognize you. Like the time you were hunting for the killer of the supermodel, and somebody tossed you in a ring and just about killed you. You gotta—”

“Can you watch a woman for me?”

Nick looked like he swallowed a piece of crab shell. Dave’s eyebrows rose and he said, “How did Nick and I get our status raised, elevated from dog sitter to woman watcher?”

“Babe sitter,” Nick said. “Unless you want us to watch your grandmother, Sean, I’m in. Who we watchin’?”

“Elizabeth Monroe. When she gets out of the hospital, she needs a safe haven. Nobody does neighborhood watch better than a marina. She has a girlfriend to stay with, but now that I know how big this thing is getting, I don’t know how safe she’d be there. These drug cartels generate a lot of money. Their influence and reach can be everywhere. I don’t want them finding Elizabeth again.”

Nick said, “Ok, that’s cool. You want her on Dave’s boat or mine?”

“She can stay on Jupiter and keep an eye on Max. I need both of you to keep your eyes on Elizabeth.”

“We’d be delighted,” Dave said, leaning back in his deckchair and pulling the napkin from his open shirt. “We’ll welcome her like a member of the family.”

“When’s she coming?” Nick asked.

“Tomorrow. She just doesn’t know it yet.”