Reckless Abandon

38

THE FOLLOWING MORNING at 7:45, Stone had just finished packing when the phone rang.

“Hello?

“Stone, it’s Ed Eagle.”

“Good morning, Ed.”

“My man was at Santa Fe Airport last night when the jet in question landed and was met by a van with federal plates. He followed the group to a house out on the north side of town, in a semi-remote area. After a few minutes, the van left the house with three occupants, which indicates that your fugitive is in the house with at least two agents.”

“That’s great news, Ed. Thanks very much.”

“Stone, I don’t know if you’ve considered the ramifications of trying to arrest a fugitive who’s already in federal custody.”

“I’m just helping out a friend,” Stone replied, “and I’m constantly reminding her of the difficulties involved, but she’s determined to take this guy back to Florida for trial.”

“We’ll talk some more when you get here,” Eagle said.

“Okay. We’re refueling in Saint Louis, and I’ll call you from there with an ETA.”

“A word of advice. If you can stretch your fuel for landing at Wichita, it’s a faster in-and-out.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. We’ll have to see how the actual, as opposed to forecast, headwinds work out.”

“See you tonight then.”

“Thanks again, Ed.”

Holly came into the room. “What’s up?”

“They’re in Santa Fe, and Ed’s guy followed them to a house there, so it may be Trini’s final destination.”

“I’m ready to go when you are.”

“Then let’s do it.”

Joan drove them to Teterboro, where Stone did a preflight inspection and got a clearance. They were rolling by nine o’clock.

Their route took them over Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, and the headwinds proved light enough for Stone to make Wichita for refueling. He called Ed Eagle from there and gave him an ETA of nine p.m., Santa Fe time.

Ed Eagle was standing on the ramp when Stone taxied up to the Santa Fe Jet Center, and ten minutes later they were headed to Eagle’s house.

“I’ve had a man watching the house all day,” Ed said, “and nobody has left the place.”

“Where is it?”

“It’s about five miles north of the center of town, off Tano Road, on Tano Norte. The area has some new houses, but it’s not all built up yet. There’s a lot of empty land around it. I know the house, because I knew the guy who built it, and I went to a couple of dinner parties there.”

“Can you describe it to me?”

“A single story-there are restrictions on building height out there-three bedrooms, a library, living room, dining room, kitchen, garage-about six thousand square feet. A subsequent owner built an elaborate wall along the road, so you can’t see the house from the road.”

“Does the wall go all the way around the house?”

“No. You could approach it on foot, but the terrain is a little rough-arroyos and ravines on the property. I did the closing when the original owner bought the property, and as I recall, he bought half of a twenty-five-acre tract. There are no other houses within, say, five hundred feet. There’s also a swimming pool and cabana, a tennis court, and a guest house.”

“Sounds pretty elaborate for somebody in the Witness Protection Program.”

“I thought the same thing. It may just be a way point on the way to his final destination.”

“Sounds pretty elaborate for an FBI property, too.”

“Yeah. My guess is it’s owned by somebody friendly to the Bureau-I’ll have to check the property records to find out who-and that they’ve got your man stashed in the guest house. If that’s the case, it might make him a little easier to get out of there. The guest house has its own access to the road.”

“Can we take a look at it tonight?” Holly asked.

“You don’t want to do that. You’re tired, and you don’t know the territory, and dinner’s waiting for us.”

“Relax, Holly,” Stone said. “It doesn’t sound like Trini’s going anywhere.”

“Oh, all right,” Holly sighed.

Ed drove them through the village of Tesuque, north of Santa Fe, and up into the hills above the village, then turned into a driveway marked by a large stone eagle perched on a big boulder.

The house was spacious and comfortable, and the guest bedroom was inviting.

“Freshen up. There’s a drink waiting for you, and dinner in a few minutes,” Ed said.

Stone splashed some water on his face and brushed his hair. “You ready?” he asked Holly.

“You go get us a drink. I’ll be along in a minute.”

Stone found Ed in the kitchen, where there were sizzling noises coming from a skillet.

“Booze is over there in that cabinet,” Ed said, pointing. “Help yourself.”

Stone found a selection of half a dozen bourbons and poured Holly and himself some Knob Creek.

“That lady of yours sounds hot for this guy,” Ed said.

“That’s putting it mildly. She’s going at him with reckless abandon. We had the guy nailed in New York last night, only to find a bunch of FBI agents guarding him.”

“How’d you find out he went to Santa Fe?”

“We followed them to Teterboro and a friend got a report on their flight plan. That’s when I called you.”

“Stone, I don’t know what your relationship is to this lady, but I can guess. Are you sure you’re not following your dick around?”

“No, I’m not sure,” Stone replied. “I keep asking myself that question, but I just got caught up in this business, and I’d like to help her see it through.”

“I’m happy to help you as much as I can, Stone, but see that I don’t get mixed up in a kidnapping.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you out of it, Ed. How’s life these days?”

“Life is very good. I got married a few years back, but she’s at a spa in California this week, toning up and all that good stuff.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet her.”

“Another time.”

Holly joined them, and Stone handed her her drink. “Is there any way we can find out tonight who owns that house?” she asked. “That’s been worrying me.”

Ed picked up a phone and dialed a number. “Sharon? Ed Eagle. You remember the house you built out on Tano Norte?… That’s the one. Any idea who owns it now?… No kidding? Since when?… Just curious. Thanks very much.” He hung up. “That was the lady who was the contractor on the house. She says it’s owned now by Byron Miller.”

“Who’s he?” Holly asked.

“He’s the U.S. Attorney for our district, and I’d advise you not to try to take your man off his property. He could do bad things to you.”

“Swell,” Holly said, pulling on her bourbon.