The Alligator Man (31 page)

B
obby Joe was born on the water. His father had been a fisherman, as had his father before him. Bobby Joe felt safe on the water. He knew every twist and turn in the Everglades, Florida Bay, and the Gulf waters. That’s why he’d been such a good smuggler.

After prison, he felt strange around people even in his hometown of Gladestown. People made him jumpy and out of sorts. Consequently, he liked to stay at one of the out islands, where he had built a little cabin during his smuggling days. Nobody knew about this place, not even Randy. That’s where he went when he got his subpoena.

On one of his trips to town while he was pulling into the dock, someone told him about Roy Johnson’s resurrection. He lit out like a man who’d literally seen a ghost, although Bobby Joe knew all along that Roy Johnson was alive.

After that, he got his supplies up the coast where nobody knew him. He could slip in and out unobserved. He could even pick up the paper and follow the stories about Roy Johnson.

Bobby Joe wasn’t one to make decisions quickly. He knew he could never live in the States again. Even if he changed the places he slipped in and out of, he knew he would be discovered eventually. He had to go south, deep into the Caribbean.

In the meantime, before he moved on, Bobby Joe spent his days and nights drinking beer, sipping a little whiskey, smoking pot, and listening to nature’s evening serenade. The world was his oyster. Fuck people. He didn’t need people.

One night, when he’d had all the beer and whiskey he could drink and he’d just finished a monster joint, Bobby Joe heard an outboard motor in the distance. Although he was drunk and stoned, Bobby Joe instantly leaped up from his chair like a Florida panther and doused the small fire he had going in the fireplace. Silently, he crept through the woods to the tree line to see the boat. Boats sometimes motored by during the day, but almost never at night.
Who the fuck is it?
Bobby Joe asked himself, his hands shaking slightly.
And did they see the light from the fire?

Carlisle was puttering along as slowly and as silently as he could, his eyes looking out on the water and the islands as he passed. There were too many places for him to stop and explore each one. He had to pick them at random and keep a close track. It had become an obsession, an every night affair for him. Bobby Joe was out there somewhere and Carlisle was going to find him no matter how long it took. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with Bobby Joe when he found him.
I know what Scotch would do,
he told himself.
But I’m not Scotch.

Bobby Joe’s fate would have to wait until that day of reckoning.

Bobby Joe saw the Grady-White pass in the distance. He didn’t recognize the boat or who was on it. If he had, he would have turned stone cold. His little skiff was hidden well. Nobody could find it, except maybe somebody who knew the water and the area as well as he did. A thought passed through Bobby Joe’s fuzzy brain for a second, and then it was gone. Bobby Joe started to relax as the sound of the boat’s motor faded into the night. He took a swig from his whiskey bottle as he leaned back against an old pine.

They’ll never find me,
he thought. His ignorance was blissful.

In the distance, Carlisle saw a great blue heron headed in the opposite direction. Unable to tell in the dark if it was Scotch or not, he decided to turn the boat around and follow it. It would probably seem a foolish decision to most people, but not Carlisle.

He wants me to go back,
Carlisle thought.
He must think I’m close.

My greatest joy has always been my family, and I have been blessed in that regard.

My three children, John, Justin and Sarah, are my anchors. We have always been there for each other. John’s wife, Bethany; Justin’s wife, Becky; my children’s mother, Liz Grant; my five grandchildren, Gabrielle, Hannah, Jack, Grace, and Owen; and my great granddaughter, Lilly, make up the rest of my inner circle. The next band of that circle is my brothers and sisters: John, Mary, Mike, Kate, and Patricia and their significant others, Marge, Tony, Linda, Bill, and John. You form a unique bond when you grow up in a railroad flat in New York City with your mother and father and five brothers and sisters. My siblings have always kept my feet firmly planted on the ground. I also have an extended family of aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews, in-laws, close friends, as well as three godchildren, Ariel, Madison and Nathaniel, and two great godchildren, Annalyse and Juliette, whom I love dearly.

I’m thrilled to have a new publishing home at Center Street, and I’m grateful to the publisher, Rolf Zettersten, and my editor, Kate Hartson, for their enthusiasm for my work. Kate’s advice and expertise have been invaluable to me throughout my career. Kate is the reason I am a published author. She has been my mentor from the very beginning. Kate’s assistant, Lauren Rohrig, has been a joy to work with and has provided some valuable contributions to the editing of this book. I would also like to thank Andrea Glickson, director of marketing, and Shanon Stowe, publicity director, and I’m excited to be working with the Hachette sales team, especially my good friend Karen Torres.

Thank you to the staff at Center Street for the outstanding layout and cover design of this book, and especially to designer Tina Taylor.

Larry Kirshbaum, my agent on my first two books, has always given me tremendous support. Emily Hill has taught me, and is still teaching me, how to promote my books on the Internet. My friend Patty Hall provided me with some key insights and suggestions at various places in the book.

In fact, I owe a large debt of gratitude to many friends who have read my work and provided me with their honest analyses and opinions. I am tempted not to name names because I’m concerned that I might forget someone. But, having filed that disclaimer, I’m going to give it a shot: Dottie Willits, Kay Tyler, Robert “Pops” Bella, Peter and Linda Keciorius, Diane Whitehead, Dave Walsh, Lindy Walsh, Lynn and Anthony Dennehy, Caitlin Herrity, Gary and Dawn Conboy, Gray and Bobbie Gibbs, Teresa Carlton, Linda Beth Carlton, Kerrie Beach, Cathy Curry, Dee Lawrence, Ron DeFilippo, Urban Patterson, Stephen Fogarty, Brian Harrington, Paul Hitchens, Nick Marzuk, and Richard Wolfe.
 

The Lawyer’s Lawyer

The Mayor of Lexington Avenue

The Law of Second Chances

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Title Page
Welcome
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-One
Chapter Seventy-Two
Chapter Seventy-Three
Chapter Seventy-Four
Chapter Seventy-Five
Chapter Seventy-Six
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Chapter Seventy-Nine
Chapter Eighty
Chapter Eighty-One
Chapter Eighty-Two
Chapter Eighty-Three
Chapter Eighty-Four
Chapter Eighty-Five
Chapter Eighty-Six
Chapter Eighty-Seven
Chapter Eighty-Eight
Chapter Eighty-Nine
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Also by James Sheehan
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Copyright