Santa Fe Edge

18

Barbara dressed carefully in casual but elegant clothes: tight silk pants and a tight cashmere sweater that showed off her cleavage.

At dusk she turned out the lights in her guesthouse and walked up to Dolly’s place, bearing a good bottle of wine. As she reached the door it occurred to her that she should have left a light on for her return home, but then it didn’t really matter, as she kept a small flashlight in her purse. She knocked on the door.

Dolly opened it, smiling. “Hi, there,” she said. “Come on in.” She was dressed similarly to Barbara but wearing a small apron.

“I don’t know what you’re cooking, but I brought some wine,” Barbara said, offering it.

“Zinfandel,” Dolly said, reading the label. “Perfect. We’re having a veal stew. Would you like something to drink?”

“Do you have bourbon?” Barbara asked.

“Bought some this afternoon,” Dolly said, going to the little bar and holding up a bottle of Knob Creek. “Tip drinks this, so it must be good.” She poured some over ice.

“My favorite,” Barbara said, accepting the drink. “Tip seems like quite a fellow,” she said. “I was very impressed with that last putt of his. He must do very well.”

“Yes, he does. He’s won only a few times on the tour, but he’s usually in the top ten, sometimes in the top five. I don’t think the public understands how much money a pro can make playing that kind of golf regularly and finishing high up consistently.”

“How much can he make?”

“A million or two a year, maybe.”

Barbara whistled. “I hope he’s paying you well.”

“He is, and he just added this house to my compensation package.”

“Is he single?”

“Yes. He was widowed recently. His wife was either murdered or committed suicide, I’m not sure which.”

“In that house next door?” Barbara asked.

“Yes, in their bedroom. Tip came back from playing a tournament in Dallas and found her.”

“He must be very shaken up, but he played so well in Houston.”

“He seems oddly serene,” Dolly said, “but I think he’s just a stoic. That’s my read on him, anyway.”

Dolly sat down beside her on the sofa with her drink. “Dinner’ll be ready in half an hour. There’s nothing left to do but serve it.”

Barbara started to say she was hungry, but she stopped in mid-sentence. She’d heard a car drive up and stop nearby, and now she heard two car doors close. She got up and peered through the little window in Dolly’s front door. “A car,” she said. “Two flashlights.”

VITTORIO STOPPED THE SUV at the locked gate of the main house, and he and Cupie got out. He handed Cupie a compact flashlight. “These are very good,” he said. “Lithium ion batteries: They’re bright enough to temporarily blind a man in the dark.”

They climbed over the low gate. “Let’s have a look at this guesthouse,” Vittorio said.

“Pretty dark,” Cupie replied. “No lights, and the garage door is closed.”

They reached the house and walked around it, shining their lights through windows. “Very neat and clean,” Cupie said. “Doesn’t look like anybody lives here.”

“Not even a toothbrush in the bathroom,” Vittorio replied. “Why don’t we ask at the house next door? There are lights on there.”

Cupie went ahead. “Let me do it,” he said. “You’re too scary on a dark night.”

“I HAVE TO TELL YOU,” Barbara said. “One of the reasons I’m in Santa Fe is that I’m being stalked by a man I went out with after my husband died. It would be just like him to show up here or to send a private detective to find me. Looks like two men coming this way.”

“Go into the guest room and close the door,” Dolly said. “If they come here I’ll handle it.” She put Barbara’s drink in the kitchen sink and her own on the counter. The doorbell rang.

Dolly went to the door, switched on the porch light and opened the door a foot, keeping her boot jammed against it. A plump, baby-faced man in a tweed topcoat and tweed hat stood there. A few feet behind him, in the shadows, stood another man wearing a flat-brimmed hat that partly hid his face.

Cupie swept off his hat and smiled. “Good evening. I’m sorry to disturb you,” he said. “I’m looking for the woman who lives next door, a Mrs. Keeler.”

“No one lives next door,” Dolly said. “The place is owned by some people from New York, but they’re only here in the summer.”

“I’d heard that this Mrs. Keeler had rented it in the past couple of days, and it’s important I get in touch with her on a business matter. Some papers have to be signed.”

“I’d know if it had been rented,” Dolly said, “and it hasn’t. In fact, I spoke to the woman in New York this morning, and she told me they had taken it off the rental market.”

“Are you alone here, ma’am?”

“No, the main house is occupied,” she said. “Is there anything else?”

“I wonder if I could use your telephone?”

“I haven’t had it turned on yet,” she said, “and cell phones don’t work out here. Good night.” She made to close the door, but he stuck a hand through. “Here’s my card,” he said. “I’d appreciate it if you would give me a call, if someone turns up in the house.”

“Sure,” Dolly said. She took the card, closed the door, locked it and turned off the porch light.

Barbara edged into the room. “Everything all right?”

“Shhh,” Dolly said, waving her back. “They haven’t gone yet. I can still see their flashlights.”

A minute passed and she heard car doors slam, then the car’s headlights came on and it turned around and went back the way it had come. “Okay,” Dolly called out. “The coast is clear.”

Barbara came back into the living room. “That was scary,” she said.

“The guy at the door wasn’t very scary, but he had a friend, and he was.”

“Did they give you a name?” Barbara asked.

“They gave me a card,” Dolly responded, handing it to her.

“Oh, I know these guys,” she said. “My ex had them tailing me in San Francisco.”

“They asked for you by name,” Dolly said, “but don’t worry, I told them the house hadn’t been rented to anyone and that the owners had taken it off the rental market.”

“Oh, thank you, Dolly,” Barbara said, kissing her on the cheek. “Now I won’t have to move.”

Dolly hugged her. “I know you’re going to be happy here, Ellie,” she said.

“I think I will be,” Barbara replied, returning the hug.