“She had gorgeous hair,” I said.
“Very stylish,” Callie agreed. “And classy.” She paused a minute before asking, “How long you think before someone finds her?”
“This close to the plantation? Probably two days.”
“You think they’ll notice the needle mark on the scalp?”
“What are we, CSI? I doubt the ME will notice it.”
“Because?”
“I put it in one of her head wounds.”
Callie thought about that and said, “She must have hit the wall head first when you threw her in the van.”
“That’d be my guess,” I said.
We rode in silence awhile, content to watch the scenery unfold. We were on A1A, south of Amelia Island, where the two-lane road cuts a straight swath through the undeveloped scrub and marsh for fifteen miles. There was a primal element to this stretch of land that seemed to discourage the rampant commercialization running almost nonstop from Jacksonville to South Beach. A couple miles in, we passed three crosses and a crude, homemade sign that proclaimed “Jesus Died For Your Sins!”
“Monica seemed nice,” Callie said. “A little snooty, but that could be the money. Or the age difference. Still, I liked her. She had great manners.”
I laughed. “Manners?”
“She had a premonition about the van,” Callie said. “But she didn’t want to offend me, so she came anyway.”
I tried the sound of it in my mouth. “She was killed because of her good manners.”
“I liked her,” Callie repeated.
“I liked her, too,” I said, “until she peed on me!”
I placed two bundles of cash in Callie’s lap. She picked one up, felt the weight in her hand.
“I like this even better,” she said.
We dropped the van off behind an abandoned barn a couple miles beyond the ferry boat landing. We removed the explosives from the wheel well in Callie’s rental car and positioned them throughout the van.
“How much you have to pay for this thing?” Callie asked.
“Four grand,” I said. “Not me, though. Victor.” Right on cue, my phone rang.
“Is it… fin… ished?” Victor asked.
“Just a sec,” I said. I climbed in the passenger seat, and Callie drove us a quarter mile before putting the rental car in park.
“Are we far enough away?” I asked.
“If we go too far,” she said, “we’ll miss the fun part.”
She got out of the car and dialed a number on her phone and the van exploded in the distance. Callie remained out of the car until she felt the wind from the explosion wash lightly over her face.
“You’re insane,” I said to Callie.
“It’s done,” I said to Victor.
Victor said, “Good. I… have… two more… jobs… for you.”
