Tedious hours with him at airports and on board the flight to Miami had stretched Tom’s professional charm to its limits. It was not that he was obnoxious. Or unintelligent. Or even that boring. It was just that they had little in common outside their mutual professional interest in Barton and his Temple Bio-Laboratories business. And Tom had decided to avoid saying too much about even that until they got to Belize. Things seemed to be moving so quickly out there that he was worried about putting his foot in it, giving out wrong or old information. They were in the stretched limo Barton had arranged to collect them from Miami International, sedately cruising down the North-South Expressway towards their Miami Beach hotel. ‘You know Miami well, David?’ Tom asked, sipping a glass of Diet Coke from the bar. Elkins was in his early forties, but his thinning sandy hair and worry-lined face made him seem much older. He replied, ‘I know Key West better.
