Bennie bounced in the backseat of the Jeep as it jostled down one dirt road, then another, heading toward town. The pilot and the driver were talking in low tones, and she leaned over, dug in her purse, and pulled out her bag of pills, then swallowed the last one dry. She tossed the baggie aside.
“Here comes another,” the driver said, pulling over as a car sped past. “Woohoo. Lots o’ excitement. Something actually happening, besides the friggin’ cruise ships.”
“Breaking news,” the pilot said, and they laughed.
Honk! Honk! beeped a horn, from a car behind them, then it flashed its high beams and zoomed past. Cars and trucks had been flying by all evening, speeding toward the airport, reservists and volunteers going to help.
“Can you put on the radio?” Bennie asked. “I’m curious what’s going on.”
The driver accelerated onto the road behind the red taillights, which were disappearing into the distance. The radio came on, the stations being scanned, then song fragments, and the news.
The male announcer said, “The status of the fire has been upgraded, and many of the first responders have been taken to the hospital, suffering from heat exhaustion. Authorities report that nine private jets and a truck loaded with jet fuel have been destroyed in a series of explosions. However, police decline to speculate that terrorists may be the culprit-”
“What a joke.” The driver flicked off the radio, chuckling. “Al Qaeda, in Nassau?”
“They come for the Cuban cigars,” the pilot said, and they both laughed.
Bennie kept her head to the plastic window of the Jeep, reading the lighted signs. Esso, Dream’s Liquor, the Hibiscus Inn Hotel, only $29.99 a night. Grassy fields gave way to suburbs and houses, with all the windows dark and dogs barking in the yards.
“Almost there,” the pilot said. “We’re taking Blue Hill.”
“The scenic route,” the driver added, and they laughed again.
Bennie tuned them out, trying to guess where Alice would go. She’d have to stay at a hotel for the night. She couldn’t present herself at the bank until morning. “Hey guys,” she said, after a moment. “Do you know where the BSB bank is?”
“Sure,” the driver answered. “Right in town, on Bay Street.”
“Is there a hotel or two, near it?”
“Plenty. The Sheraton and the Hilton are at the head of Bay Street, then there’s smaller ones, in town. Is that where we’re dropping you?”
“Yes. The Sheraton.”
“Sure you don’t wanna come party?”
“Nah, thanks.”
“Smart girl,” the pilot said, over his shoulder. “When Tommy parties, he ends up in jail.”
The driver laughed. “Not tonight. They’ve got their hands full, with this fire. You wanna knock over a liquor store, this would be the time.”
His words struck Bennie as true. The cops would be completely distracted tonight. If Alice had started the fire, that could be the reason. But why, exactly? To keep the cops from the bank? To get past immigration, in case the FBI had called down?
They drove around a rotary, and another car flew by, then a blue van that read TRUST IN GOD. They passed a law school and the College of the Bahamas, reaching the fringe of the city and a string of houses, grocery stores, and a hair salon that read Home of the Instant Weave, Whole Cap. People sat on the stoops and stood in groups on the sidewalk, talking and smoking.
Bennie eyed them. She wouldn’t have a hard time finding a six-foot blonde who dressed like a lawyer.
It wouldn’t be long now.