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ter； and that impertinent tollbooth clerk in Yeehaw Junction would be getting a pink slip。 Palmer Stoat flew home from Tallahassee and drove directly to Swain's； his favorite local cigar bar； to celebrate。 Here he felt vigorous and important among the ruddy young lawyers and money managers and gallery owners and former pro athletes。 Stoat enjoyed watching them instruct their new girlfriends how to clip the nub oh…so…carefully off a bootleg Bolivar…the Yuppie foreplay of the nineties。 Stoat resented that his wife wouldn't set foot in Swain's； because she would've looked spectacular sitting there； scissor…legged and preening in one of her tight black cocktail dresses。 But Desie claimed to be nauseated by cigars。 She nagged him mercilessly for smoking in the house…a vile and toxic habit； she called it。 Yet she'd fire up a doobie every time they made love…and did Palmer plain？ No； ma'am。 Whatever gets you past the night； he'd say cheerfully。 And then Desie would say； Just for once shut up； wouldya？ And that's the only way she'd do it； with him pletely silent in the saddle。 The Polaroid routine she'd tolerate； but the moment Palmer blurted a single word； the sex was over。 That was Desie's ironclad rule。 So he had learned to keep his mouth shut for fifteen or twenty minutes in the bedroom； maybe twice a week。 Palmer could handle that。 Hell； they were all a little crazy； right？ And besides； there were others…the ones up at the capitol； especially…who'd let him talk all he wanted； from start to finish。 Like he was calling the Preakness。
The bartender delivered a fresh brandy。
〃Where'd this e from？〃 Stoat asked。
〃From the gentleman at the end of the bar。〃
That was one thing about cigar joints； the customers were all 〃gentlemen〃 and 〃ladies。〃
〃Which one？〃 said Stoat。
〃In the sunglasses。〃
Young guy in a tropical…print shirt； parrots and palm fronds。 Stoat couldn't place the face。 Deeply tanned； with long sun…bleached hair and a two…day stubble。 Probably an off…duty deckhand from Bahia Mar or Pier 66； Stoat thought； somebody he'd met on a party yacht。
Stoat raised the brandy and mouthed a thank…you。 The boat guy in the sunglasses acknowledged with a wry nod。 Stoat turned his attention to an effervescent brunette who wasn't smoking a seven…inch Cuban knockoff so much as fellating it。 And while the woman would hardly be mistaken for a serious cigar connoisseur； her husky giggle indicated an enthusiasm to learn。 Stoat was about to introduce himself when the bartender touched his sleeve and passed him a folded cocktail napkin。 〃The young gentleman in the sunglasses；〃 the bartender said； 〃he left this for you。〃
Palmer Stoat opened the note：
Mr。 Yee called from Panama City about your 〃vitamins。 〃 Also； Jorge from Ocean BMW…they'll have another ragtop by Monday。 This time be more careful where you park it！
Stoat's hands were shaky when he put down the napkin。 He scanned the bar： no sign of the boat guy。 Stoat flipped open his cell phone； dialed the nonlisted number to his den； and punched in the numeric code of his answering machine。 The first two messages； recorded on the same morning he'd flown to Tallahassee； were exactly as described in the boat guy's note。 Mr。 Yee…Durgess's elusive rhino…horn connection…had finally returned Stoat's call。 （Without Desie's knowledge； Stoat intended to score some of that magic erection powder； he was scheming some wild recreation for his next business trip。） And the second phone message on the machine was indeed from the BMW salesman； a young go…getter named Jorge Hernandez。
Spooky； Stoat thought。 Either the boat guy pirated my phone code or he's been snooping inside my house。 Stoat laid a twenty on the bar and raced home。 Once inside the front door； he sidestepped the dog and hurried to his den。 The room did not appear ransacked； and none of the personal items on his desk had been taken or moved out of place。
Then Palmer Stoat noticed the polished glass eyeballs； arranged in a pentagram star。 The geometry was so flawless that it appealed in an occult way to Stoat's obsession with neatness and order。 （The inverse manifestation of this fetish was a pulsion to jettison all traces of potential untidiness…every scrap of trash； waste or rubbish…with no regard for the consequences。 It's what made Stoat the impenitent litterbug he was。）
So he did not disturb the mystery pentagram。 Slowly he raised his face to look at the walls； at the stuffed lynx； the timber wolf； the mule deer； the bighorn ram； the elk； the marlin； the tarpon； the peacock bass。 Stoat stared at all of them； but they weren't staring back。
Twilly Spree had a habit of falling in love with any woman who was nice enough to sleep with him。 One was named Mae； and she was ten years older。 She had straight straw…blond hair； and caramel freckles from her cheeks to her ankles。 Her family was wealthy； and she showed an endearing lack of interest in Twilly's inheritance。 He likely would have married her； except for the fact she was already married to a businessman in Singapore。 Mae filed for divorce three days after meeting Twilly； but the lawyers said it would take years for her to get free； since her spouse avoided the United States and therefore could not be served with papers。 Having nothing else to do； Twilly got on a plane and flew to Singapore and met briefly with Mac's husband； who quickly arranged for Twilly to be beaten up； arrested in a brothel and deported。 After Twilly was returned to Florida； he said in all innocence to Mae： 〃What'd you ever see in a creep like that？〃
Mae and Twilly lived together five months。 She said she wanted him to help her bee a free spirit。 Twilly had heard the same line from other girlfriends。 Without him asking； Mae gave up her bridge league and her Wednesday pedicures and took up the mandolin and bromeliads。 Mac's father became concerned and flew down from Sag Harbor to check Twilly out。 Mae's father was a retired executive from the Ford Motor pany； and was almost single…handedly responsible for ruining the Mustang。 To test Twilly's character； he invited him to a skeet range and placed a 12…gauge Remington in his hands。 Twilly knocked down everything they tossed up。 Mae's father said； Sure； but can you hunt？ He took Twilly to a quail plantation in Alabama； and Twilly shot the first four birds they jumped。 Then Twilly set the gun in the grass and said； That's plenty。 Mae's father said； What the hell's the matter with you； we're just getting warmed up。
And Twilly said； I can't eat more than four birds so what's the point？
The point； thundered Mae's father； isn't the eating。 It's the sport of it！
Is that so？ Twilly said。
To shoot something fast and beautiful out of the sky； Mae's father told him。 That's the essence of it！
Now I see； said Twilly。
And that evening； as Mae's father's chartered King Air took off from a rural Montgomery airport； somebody hiding in the trees with a semiautomatic rifle neatly stitched an X pattern in one wing； rupturing a fuel bladder and forcing the plane to turn back for an emergency landing。 The sniper was never found； but Mae's father went on a minor rampage to the authorities。 And while he ultimately failed in his effort