ever saw a doctor, it was the kind who kept old-fashioned handwritten files. Lens
doctor was modern. Kept his files electronically and used the virtual diagnostic sites all
the time. Lens spine was slowly deteriorating. His doctor had him on morphine. If the
local bottle shop is any indication, Len had himself on booze. Or is it Hannah whos heavy
on the sauce?
If she is, you cant smell it on her breath or her skin.
That close, huh? Fast work, bro.
Shove it.
Ah, theres the Archer we all know and love.
Shove that, too, he said without heat. Im emailing a list of Pearl Coves employees for the
past year. See what you can get on them. He yawned wide enough to make his jaw crack.
Kyle snickered. It wasnt often he had his oldest brother at a disadvantage. Bet youre not
going to be a chirpy little camper at dawn tomorrow the way you usually are.
No bet. Archer rubbed eyes that felt like they had gone skinny-dipping in sand. Anything
else?
Nope. Her name never appeared on any of the singles sites or the sexual chat rooms, so
virtual sex isnt her thing.
She could have used an alias, Archer pointed out.
Hello, this is Kyle, the brother who can spin rings around you on a computer. Remember me?
I can track an alias faster than you can think.
Good thing I cant reach you, runt. Runt? Ill runt you the next time I get you on a gym
mat. Yeahyeahyeah. Lianne can dump you on your ass without breaking a sweat. Lianne can
put me on my ass any time, anywhere, and any way she wants. Naked is her favorite.
The smug, utterly male note in Kyles voice made Archer feel a lot more than thirty-seven,
going on thirty-eight. He felt ancient, desolate, a ruin on top of a stony hill with
nothing but the empty sky for company.
I left a list of Lens phone calls for the last six months in your coded email, Kyle
continued. Cellular or land phone? Both. Right. Thanks.
Right, huh? Less than a day and youre sounding like an Aussie. Its called camouflage,
Archer said dryly. Youll need it. Be careful, bro. Very, very careful. My gut wants you
the hell out of Australia. Im always careful. Bye, Kyle. And thanks.
Archer turned off the cell phone, opened his own computer, accessed the email, and studied
the lists of phone calls Len had made. Often the names were familiar. Pearl players, for
the most part. Many were honest. More were honest only when they had to be. The rest were
strangers. All in all, Len had known and dealt with some unsavory-to-dangerous men.
Smugglers, government fixers, triad interfaces, people who lived well outside the law and
liked it that way.
Nothing in the lists reassured Archer that the job of finding Lens killer would be easy.
Nor did he dismiss Kyles gut feeling that there was danger. His brothers hunches were
better than most mens solid facts.
Another day here, at most. After that, the word would be out that Archer Donovan was at
Pearl
Cove. Isolated. Working alone. The predators would descend and it would simply be too
dangerous for him to stay on.
Unless Len had been working for Uncle. That would give Archer more time, more leverage to
use against whoever had wanted Len dead.
Uncle.
Archer stared at his cell phone as if it was a grenade with the pin out and the spoon held
down by a frayed thread. Then he picked the phone up and punched in the number he hated to
use.
Because as long as he used that number, Uncle Sam would have his number, too.
***
What did you say? Archer asked, turning suddenly toward Hannah. She had come into the
kitchen a few minutes ago and silently fixed a pot of coffee. Her nap had left creases on
the right side of her face, as though she had fallen into bed and not moved once. Her
shorts and tank top were a silvery gray that reminded him of pearls.
I asked how you liked our computer, she repeated. Our as in Lens and yours? She swallowed
a yawn and rubbed the right side of her face where sweaty skin
doctor was modern. Kept his files electronically and used the virtual diagnostic sites all
the time. Lens spine was slowly deteriorating. His doctor had him on morphine. If the
local bottle shop is any indication, Len had himself on booze. Or is it Hannah whos heavy
on the sauce?
If she is, you cant smell it on her breath or her skin.
That close, huh? Fast work, bro.
Shove it.
Ah, theres the Archer we all know and love.
Shove that, too, he said without heat. Im emailing a list of Pearl Coves employees for the
past year. See what you can get on them. He yawned wide enough to make his jaw crack.
Kyle snickered. It wasnt often he had his oldest brother at a disadvantage. Bet youre not
going to be a chirpy little camper at dawn tomorrow the way you usually are.
No bet. Archer rubbed eyes that felt like they had gone skinny-dipping in sand. Anything
else?
Nope. Her name never appeared on any of the singles sites or the sexual chat rooms, so
virtual sex isnt her thing.
She could have used an alias, Archer pointed out.
Hello, this is Kyle, the brother who can spin rings around you on a computer. Remember me?
I can track an alias faster than you can think.
Good thing I cant reach you, runt. Runt? Ill runt you the next time I get you on a gym
mat. Yeahyeahyeah. Lianne can dump you on your ass without breaking a sweat. Lianne can
put me on my ass any time, anywhere, and any way she wants. Naked is her favorite.
The smug, utterly male note in Kyles voice made Archer feel a lot more than thirty-seven,
going on thirty-eight. He felt ancient, desolate, a ruin on top of a stony hill with
nothing but the empty sky for company.
I left a list of Lens phone calls for the last six months in your coded email, Kyle
continued. Cellular or land phone? Both. Right. Thanks.
Right, huh? Less than a day and youre sounding like an Aussie. Its called camouflage,
Archer said dryly. Youll need it. Be careful, bro. Very, very careful. My gut wants you
the hell out of Australia. Im always careful. Bye, Kyle. And thanks.
Archer turned off the cell phone, opened his own computer, accessed the email, and studied
the lists of phone calls Len had made. Often the names were familiar. Pearl players, for
the most part. Many were honest. More were honest only when they had to be. The rest were
strangers. All in all, Len had known and dealt with some unsavory-to-dangerous men.
Smugglers, government fixers, triad interfaces, people who lived well outside the law and
liked it that way.
Nothing in the lists reassured Archer that the job of finding Lens killer would be easy.
Nor did he dismiss Kyles gut feeling that there was danger. His brothers hunches were
better than most mens solid facts.
Another day here, at most. After that, the word would be out that Archer Donovan was at
Pearl
Cove. Isolated. Working alone. The predators would descend and it would simply be too
dangerous for him to stay on.
Unless Len had been working for Uncle. That would give Archer more time, more leverage to
use against whoever had wanted Len dead.
Uncle.
Archer stared at his cell phone as if it was a grenade with the pin out and the spoon held
down by a frayed thread. Then he picked the phone up and punched in the number he hated to
use.
Because as long as he used that number, Uncle Sam would have his number, too.
***
What did you say? Archer asked, turning suddenly toward Hannah. She had come into the
kitchen a few minutes ago and silently fixed a pot of coffee. Her nap had left creases on
the right side of her face, as though she had fallen into bed and not moved once. Her
shorts and tank top were a silvery gray that reminded him of pearls.
I asked how you liked our computer, she repeated. Our as in Lens and yours? She swallowed
a yawn and rubbed the right side of her face where sweaty skin
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