When Jenner had finished his good-byes at the morgue, Flanagan walked him out to the car. Clapped a hand on his shoulder, shook his hand, and wished him well. He watched Jenner drive through the electric gates for the last time.

And then Jenner was free.

His spirits lifted as he drove under the scrub oaks on Municipal Drive for the last time.

He made good time to the Southland Mall. He parked in front of the Outback Steakhouse; before he picked up the dog, he had business to take care of. He left the air conditioner on, and unplugged his cell from the charger.

Garcia picked up on the second ring. “Lieutenant Garcia, Manhattan South Homicide.”

“Rad, it’s Jenner.”

“Jenner! Jesus! I’m glad to hear your voice.” Jenner smiled. “You okay? We saw your motel on the news last night, and Dulcie says it’s time for you to come home, get the fuck outta that fuckin’ swamp.”

“I’m almost finished up down here.” Jenner paused. “This a safe line, Rad?”

“This is my direct line. Doesn’t even go through the switchboard.” He was serious now. “What’s up?”

“I need a solid contact in the South Florida DEA office.”

“What you got?”

“This whole thing is all about methamphetamine. And I’m talking Mexican cartel connections, major distribution through the East Coast corridor, tens of millions a year.”

“Jesus.” Garcia whistled. “Mexican speed?”

“No, they’re cooking it up right here,” Jenner said. “You know Craine Brothers Medical?”

“Of course—‘Craine—when purity and excellence count.’ Dulcie won’t buy any other baby powder.”

“Well, Chip Craine is a major player in this. He owns the farm where they’re making it, and they use his connections to get the precursor chemicals for the crystal.”

“So this is what the killings are all about?”

“Yeah. It’s all tied in, this whole place is one giant cesspool. There are bad cops down here—I can’t trust anyone.”

“Fuck.” Garcia was silent for a while. Then he said, “Okay. I’ll make some calls—I doubt the DEA has an office in Douglas, so it’ll probably be Dade County or Broward. I’ll find someone good and get back to you. Where you at, now? You going to get out of town?”

“I’m almost gone already. Just got to pick something up and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Good. Just get the fuck outta there, buddy. What do you have as far as evidence goes? They’re going to need something, Jenner.”

“They’ll find it at Craine’s farm. There was a delivery of precursor chemicals in a Craine Brothers truck the day before yesterday—DEA goes there in the next day or two, they’ll be cooking. Also, those chemicals are controlled substances, so if they poke the CBM distribution records, things will unravel pretty quickly.”

Jenner breathed out slowly, then said, “Also…Chip Craine paid me off.”

“He gave you cash? Can you tie it to him?”

“He’ll be on the hotel surveillance video—first thing DEA should do is get to the Gulf Breeze Hotel in Port Fontaine and impound the tapes before they record over them. That’ll put him in the lobby and on my floor, but he gave me the actual money in my room. I broke it up into different bags to hide it, but I kept the original carry bag for DNA, fiber evidence, whatever.”

“Okay, keep that bag, maybe they can use that.”

“Of course.” Jenner could hear the detective scribbling. “Craine’s planning to skip the country today.”

“Shit. Well, they won’t have time to get the necessary warrants, but they can certainly start tracking him.” More writing. “Shit! Okay, I’ll move quickly.”

Jenner heard the sound of a sheet of paper being torn off a pad. “Wait, Jenner. How much did he pay you?”

“A lot.”

“Don’t be a bitch, Jenner! Just how much are you worth?”

“One hundred thousand dollars.”

“Whew!” Garcia whistled again. “It’s going to sting to give that up, my friend!”

“You don’t know the half of it…”

Garcia snorted. “Okay, Jenner, now, you promise me you’ll get the fuck outta there right now. It’s not safe there for you. You got a gun?”

“Everyone keeps asking me that today—yeah, I have a gun.”

“Cocked and locked, just in case, eh, buddy?”

“Okay.”

“And Jenner? You sure you know where the safety is? Because last time…”

“Fuck you, Rad. Call me when you find me a contact.”

“Ha-ha. Okay, Jenner. You just get yourself the hell out of there ASAP; I promise you, by the time you hit fucking Disney World, the drug boys will be breaking down fucking doors and knocking fucking heads.”

Jenner grinned. “Team America!”

Rad said, “Fuck yeah!” and hung up.