“What makes you think Lice is… you know…”

“Dead? Number one, he hasn't called up beggin' to come home,” Shelly said, “which is totally not like him. Number two, none of his local party pals have heard from him, not a peep. Number three was that ugly bald gorilla who came to the trailer that night, and number four was the blood in my car.”

Again she pointed at the stain on the dashboard. I tried not to stare at it. Shelly being so worried made me worried, too.

“But who would kill him? And what's it got to do with my dad?” I asked.

She sighed impatiently. “Noah, you got any idea how much money Dusty Muleman makes off the Coral Queen?”

“No, ma'am.”

“Between fifteen and twenty grand just from the casino tables,” she said. “Subtract the food for the customers, the pay for the crew, and he's still clearin' ten thousand, minimum, every night.”

“Dollars?” I couldn't believe it.

“Gambling is a mega-huge business, kid, because the world is crawlin' with suckers,” Shelly said. “Don't forget that Lice had a big mouth. Suppose he blabbed to somebody that he was gonna help your daddy, and suppose Dusty found out. He'd have a cow if he thought the feds were gonna rush in and shut down the Coral Queen. How far do you figure he'd go to stop that from happenin'? You're a smart boy, Noah, think about it.”

I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to believe that Dusty Muleman had murdered Lice Peeking, all because my father had made a deal with Lice to get his testimony.

She said, “Don't worry, I'm still gonna keep my promise. I'm gonna help you clear your daddy's name.”

“But why?”

“Maybe 'cause it's the right thing to do. Or maybe 'cause now I've got a dog in this fight.”

“You want to nail Dusty, too.”

“If he hurt my man, you bet I do,” Shelly said. “If he harmed one hair on that lazy, worthless, lice-covered head…”

She was either tougher than I'd thought, or crazier than I'd thought.

“It's way too dangerous,” I told her. “Forget about it.”

“Too late.”

She stuck the gun-shaped cigarette lighter in the waist of her jeans and got out of the Jeep. She was still limping slightly from kicking the toilet bowl, but apparently her foot wasn't broken. I followed her onto the old bridge, where we leaned against the warped railing and looked down at the green-blue water ripping through the pilings. The sun was halfway gone, and all around us the cameras were clicking.

“What else did you want to tell me?” I asked Shelly.

“This morning I went to see Dusty.”

“Alone? That's nuts!”

“Noah, I used to live with the man. We were engaged to be married, for God's sake,” she said. “Anyhow, I asked could I have back my old bartending job on the Coral Queen. I gave a big sob story about Lice bailin' out on me, and how I was hurtin' for money.”

The breeze delivered a whiff of Shelly's tangerine perfume, which actually smelled pretty nice. I noticed she was wearing only two silver hoops in each ear, and I figured that maybe she'd pawned all the others, like her promise ring.

“Did Dusty give you the job?” I asked.

“Yup. I start tomorrow night.”

Shelly had guts, no doubt about it. She was going undercover to nail Dusty Muleman, the man she suspected of ordering her boyfriend killed. It was odd, but she looked more sad than scared.

I said, “Please don't do this. Stay away from that boat.”

“What if I told you I really did need the dough.”

“It's not worth it,” I heard myself say. “I don't want something bad happening to you, too.”

“Aw, nothing's gonna happen.” Now she sounded like the old Shelly, incredibly calm and sure of herself.

“If you're not afraid, how come you're carrying around that fake gun?” I asked.

“Good question.” She took the lighter out of her jeans and casually tossed it off the bridge. “I was gonna start smokin' again, but you just talked me out of it. Thanks, Noah.”

She smiled, and then did something totally outrageous. She leaned over and kissed the top of my head, the way Mom used to do when I was small. It was just a quick peck, but I felt my face turn red.

“My momma used to say, ‘Keep your friends close, girl, but keep your enemies closer,'” said Shelly. “Don't worry about me, Noah. I know how to handle Captain Muleman.”

A few of the tourists started clapping, which they sometimes do in the Keys at the moment the sun disappears over the horizon. Why, I've got no earthly idea. Sunset on the water ought to be a quiet and easy time, but I guess some people can't stand a little silence.

“Speaking of mommas,” Shelly said, “yours'll start freakin' out, we don't get you home pretty soon.”

That night, before bed, I took the rust dust out of my pocket and showed it to Abbey. I told her all about the bogus sewage tank at the boat dock; about Lice suddenly disappearing and the bloodstains in the Jeep; about Shelly going back to her old job on the Coral Queen to help us nail Dusty Muleman.

Abbey was her usual skeptical self. “You're saying that the same goon who grabbed me at the marina kidnapped Lice Peeking and snuffed him? No way.”

“It's a possibility,” I said.

“In Miami, yeah. But this is the Keys!”

When I told her how much money Dusty was making from the casino boat, Abbey's eyes widened.

“What if we went to the police and told them everything?” she asked excitedly.

“They'd think we're a couple of whack jobs. We need witnesses, Abbey, not just a hole in a sewer tank.”

“Does this Shelly person have a plan?”

“We're still working on it,” I said.

“We? Oh, great.”

“Any ideas would be welcome.”

“Noah, this isn't a game,” my sister said. “If there's a killer out there-which I doubt, but if it's true-there's only one possible plan.”

“Which is?”

“We pack up and move to Canada immediately. You, me, Mom, Dad-we drive straight to Saskatchewan and move in with Grandpa Kenneth and Grandma Janet. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Good night, Abbey.”

I was so tired that I fell asleep in my clothes. Right away I started dreaming about fishing, which wasn't unusual for me. In the dream I was alone in a small wooden boat, hooked up to a humongous tarpon that was dragging me out to sea. The water was getting rougher, and the salt spray was whipping at my cheeks and stinging my eyes. Before long it got dark and I couldn't see a thing.

All I had to do to save myself was let go of the stupid fishing rod, but it was the biggest tarpon I'd ever seen and I wanted desperately to catch it. The fish was pulling so hard that the little boat was plowing and lurching through the waves. Somehow I managed to steady myself in the bow, leaning with all my might against the muscle of the fish. Every so often the line would hiss upward, slacken, and then a tremendous splash could be heard in the distance. I knew it was the sound of my tarpon jumping, trying to shake out the hook.

Eventually the black gloom was broken by a bright white burst, and I realized we were passing the lighthouse at Alligator Reef. In the dream I started thinking about all the monster barracudas and sharks that lived on the reef, and what a bad thing it would be to tumble overboard there.

Next, something terrifying happened. The boat was lifted by an enormous claw-shaped wave and tossed like a toy, high in the air. The spinning rod flew from my grip and I pitched backward, expecting at any moment to crack my skull against the planks of the transom.

But instead I just kept falling, as if tumbling through a high mountain canyon. I tried to wake myself but I couldn't, which is the worst feeling when you're in the middle of a bad dream. As I fell, something invisible began rocking me back and forth-lightly at first, but then harder and harder until I was flopping around like a rag doll.