Chapter Fifteen
Graveyard Shift
Sunday morning in the Key West cemetery. On the northeast side of the old town at the foot of Solares Hill was nineteen acres of history and hilarity. Willis stopped by the B.P. Roberts gravestone. May 17, 1929 - June 18, 1979. I Told You I Was Sick. Maybe one of the most famous epitaphs in American history. A Conch Republic classic.
“Man, talk about walking into the lion’s den,” Teeter Boone said.
“Relax,” Willis said.
Two men walked toward them. One whippet lean, blank eyed, looking nowhere, seeing everything. The second man more expansive, wearing a tailored suit, beautifully cut, maybe Saville Row. Both men were black. The smaller, dark. The big one in the expensive suit was handsome to a fault, with flawless, cream-in-your-coffee skin and a narrow
