As they reached open water, Twill accelerated. A cooling wind blew back Cab’s styled hair, and spray dampened his suit. Twill secured his Cubs cap low on his forehead. He raced all the way to the far shore, where a large field of grassy marshes grew out of the water. Twill slowed and turned the boat directly into the tall grass, and the airboat easily slipped inside the wetland, obscured from view. Cab could see the muddy bottom; the lake was only six inches deep here. Lilypads and green algae dotted the surface. Black flies buzzed the boat. He saw a full-size alligator – at least seven feet – sunning itself on a sandbar among the reeds.

Twill cut the motor and popped open a beer. He offered one to Cab, who shook his head.

‘I do this every day. Not so bad, huh? I used to live in Orlando and work for a living. Who needs that? Guess there has to be a fringe benefit to nine weeks in a coma.’ He waved at the alligator. ‘How’s it going today, Rex? Swallow up any tourists?’ Twill chuckled and took a slug of beer. ‘So what kind of a name is Cab?’ he asked.

‘My mother was a big fan of the movie Cabaret,’ Cab said.

‘With Liza?’

‘Right.’

‘Hmm.’ Twill drank more beer, and then he pulled a joint out of his pocket. ‘You going to turn me in? It’s medicinal. For the pain.’

‘Do what you have to do,’ Cab said.

Twill lit the joint and stretched out his legs. The marshland around them was a secluded nature preserve, walled off from the rest of the lake. Cab saw the walnut-sized head of a turtle poking out of the water. Nearby, a white heron darted its long neck into the ripples and emerged with a squirming fish.

‘So when did it happen?’ Cab asked.

Twill knew what he meant. ‘Nine years ago this Wednesday.’

‘The Fourth of July?’

‘That’s it. That also happens to be the day that Ham Brock and some of his buddies started serving their sentences for tax fraud, money laundering, and weapons violations. I guess their friends wanted to thank me for all the articles I’d done about the Alliance over the years. About six of them in hoods grabbed me out back of my apartment in Maitland. Took me in the trunk to a deserted section of the Ocala. I woke up in the hospital in September.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Cab didn’t like that the Fourth of July – in three days – was an anniversary that had special meaning to Hamilton Brock and the members of the Liberty Empire Alliance.

‘And here I am,’ Twill went on.

‘Do you still keep an eye on the Alliance?’ Cab asked.

‘One eye is all I’ve got.’

Cab winced. ‘Yes, of course.’