Chapter 20 Chapter Eighteen

I spent all Monday morning calling Deborah, but I still couldn't reach her.I left her over a dozen text messages, each one filled with joy and wisdom, and the positive attitude definitely paid off, and I finally got a call back from her. "Hi, Dex," said the voice so relaxed, even tired, that I didn't realize it was Deborah at first. "Oh," I said, "it seems the rumors of your death are exaggerated." "Yeah," she said, "I'm still alive, and Kyle hasn't let me idle." "Deborah, what's the matter with you?" I tried my best to put on a nonchalant look, "My only sister hasn't been seen for days and nights without saying hello, so I naturally want to know what happened That's all, that's all."

"It really touched me, like I finally had a real brother. How about having lunch? At the Azul." I couldn't figure it out, it didn't make sense at all.Deborah is blue-collar when it comes to eating, and Azur is the kind of place the Saudis eat when they come to Miami. "Of course, Hotel Azul. I'll sell the car to pay the bill, and then I'll meet you there." "One o'clock," Deborah said, "don't worry about the money, Kyle will pay for it." She hung up, ignoring my surprise.Kyle will foot the bill, won't he?And it was at the Azul Hotel.

There is a cobblestone circular driveway in front of the gate of the Azul Hotel, and the parking lot attendant insisted that I hand over the car to him to park.The instant I saw Deborah sitting at a table in the corner outside, Kyle Chutsky was sitting across from her, with his back to the hotel entrance. "Hi, brother," Kyle greeted me as soon as I sat down, holding out his hand across the table. "How about the line of bloodstain patterns?" "There's always work to be done," I said. "What about the mystery visitor from Washington?" "Brilliant! Why are you interested in this, brother?"

"Dexter has a soft spot for inhuman demons," Deborah said. "It's like a hobby. He's half a criminal reasoner," Deborah said. "So Dexter, what do you think of this guy?" "There are only some basic facts at the moment," I pretended to think for a while, "this man has a lot of medical training, and he has also been trained in clandestine activities. Now he has returned as a madman. It needs to be stated that this may have something to do with Central America. He is very Probably still, and timing it for maximum effect, not just because he feels he has to. So, he’s not a serial in the usual sense—what is a serial?”

The leisurely smile on Kyle's face was gone. He clenched his fists and sat up straight on the chair. "What do you mean, Central America?" I'm sure we both know what Central America refers to, but I still think it's overkill to say El Salvador.I can't afford to lose the "just a hobby" pretense.My sole purpose in coming to the dinner was to learn about Doakes' past, and I apparently succeeded.I put on the most innocent and curious expression. "Oh, did I say something wrong?" Kyle obviously wasn't sure if I was right or wrong.He swallowed a few times and let go of his clenched fist.

"Very well, brother. How did you come to that conclusion?" "I don't know," I said modestly. "It's obvious. The hard part is trying to figure out how deeply Sergeant Doakes was involved." "My God," he said, clenching his fists again. "You're really right." "Is Doakes connected to this case?" Deborah asked me. "Obviously he knew something. When Kyle showed up in Chief Matthews' conference room, Doakes recognized him, and Kyle recognized Doakes. Only Dokes was at the scene. Adams alone knows who to report to."

"Doakes does know something," admitted Chutsky, "that's from his old soldier days. I won't say much, I don't want to trouble you, but you've got to give up the hobby, Leave it alone. Find another hobby, or you'll get in trouble and get cleared." Before I could think of a punch line to answer him, the waiter suddenly appeared beside Kyle.Chutsky handed the waiter the menu and said, "This place has good bouillabaisse."