“Morning, sir,” he said when the big man approached. Harris was in his standard working attire. But his reluctance to make eye contact alerted Byrne that something was up. “Mornin’.” “She’s looking good, eh?” Byrne said and instantly felt like a stable boy asking for a compliment. “Aye, a fine job.” “Will we be hooking up here and going across the bridge to pick up Mr. Flagler then?” “Aye, we will. But not you, Mr. Byrne.” The use of Byrne’s proper name was a step back from Harris’ now familiar “lad.” Byrne said nothing and let his silence force whatever it was out of Harris’ mouth. “I’ll be accompanying Mr. Flagler to Miami. But we’ve another job for you,” he said. “We need you to go with a group of gentlemen from the hotel on a bit of an expedition this morning.” Byrne let the query in his face do the asking. “Mr. McAdams and some regular guests are taking in a round of hunting in the Everglades and they’d like you as some kind of security I suppose.
