“Six hundred gallon tank. I got one sitting in the laydown yard across the river,” he said. “Get it steam-cleaned. Put a real fuel filter on it....Get one of the wholesalers to keep you supplied with 100 octane low lead.”“And a pump,” I said.“Easy shot,” he laughed. “We demoed a country store two months ago, and I have a pump just sitting there. Mister Dukes tore his fueling station down, but the power’s still there. That’s where you put it.”“Heard my name,” Mister Dukes said, walking. I had a pretty good read on the strong-willed FBI agent at that point and I translated that as more neutral than a simple no.Of course, we managed to wake Eve up on the way through the living room and she insisted on making us both a cup of coffee to take on the road over to the scene of the crime.We were both silent with our own thoughts on the way uptown and in a sense I really appreciated the insulation of not having to talk because I was afraid I would lose my grasp on reality and get lost. More

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