Santa Fe Edge

26

Todd Bacon sat at his computer, composing a report to Holly Barker. He was embarrassed to have so little to tell her. He pressed the send button and sat, staring at his computer screen, wondering what to do next. As he watched, an e-mail notice appeared in the lower right-hand corner. He checked his inbox.

Call me at this number, the unsigned message read.

Todd called the number.

“Sounds like you’re coming up dry,” Holly Barker said, without preamble.

“So far,” Todd admitted. “I believe he was here, but now I think he may have left town.”

“I understand why you believe that,” Holly said, “but don’t believe it. If he was in town he’d want you to think he’d left.”

“Well, then, he’s pretty convincing,” Todd replied. “I don’t know what to do next.”

“Stop looking for him,” Holly said. “Find Lauren Cade. After all, she’s what got you where you are.”

“I don’t even have a photograph,” he complained. “All I’ve got is the description you gave me.”

“That has already changed,” Holly said. “She’s no longer a blonde, I can promise you that, but she can’t change her body. She’s a slim girl with impressive breasts and a skinny ass. I know the tits can be bought off the shelf, but not the ass. Look for the combination. Go where people go-restaurants, grocery stores, shops. She’s in a new town, and she’s going to want new clothes. Everybody in Santa Fe goes to the Plaza sooner or later. Go there and look. You’re a good-looking guy. When you see someone with that combination who’s not a blonde, try and pick her up. You might get lucky.”

“They didn’t train me for this at the Farm,” he said, referring to the Agency’s training facility in the Virginia countryside.

“Then you’ll have to train yourself,” Holly said. “When you find her, you’ll have found a new skill.”

“If I were an older guy with a younger girl, like him,” Todd said, “I’d stick close to her.”

“Maybe he will,” Holly said, “but don’t expect him to look his age. He’s good at changing his appearance, and he’s not going to make himself look like an old man while he’s with someone as great-looking as Lauren. If he’s sixtyish, look for a man who looks fifty or younger.”

“Are you sure I can spend the Agency’s time on something as ephemeral as this?”

“The boss has already made that decision,” she said. “He has, in effect, cut you loose. You’re just going to have to get out there and give yourself a chance to get lucky. Gotta run.” Holly hung up.

Todd hung up and sat there, thinking. Holly’s suggestion seemed crazy, too random. He was convinced he had a better chance of finding Teddy’s airplane than he did of finding Teddy himself.

He brought up his flight-planning program on the computer and looked at the Santa Fe area. Maybe Teddy had just moved his airplane to a less conspicuous spot. Todd thought about what he himself would look for if he were deciding at which airport to land. He’d want fuel, certainly, so that would eliminate some little backcountry dirt strip. He’d want maintenance services, too. Small aircraft needed taking care of, and he’d want a mechanic, maybe an avionics shop as well. The field should be within easy driving distance of Santa Fe, say fifty to sixty miles.

He looked at all the surrounding airports. There was Albuquerque International, but that was too big, and fuel and services would be too expensive. There were a dozen or so small airports, mostly shown on the map as red circles, but many of those wouldn’t have the necessary services. There were two general aviation airports marked in blue: Double Eagle, outside Albuquerque, which was fifty miles or so away, and Las Vegas, to the east, about the same distance.

He checked his airport guide: Las Vegas had no services, except a restaurant, but Double Eagle had a full-service FBO, with both mechanical and avionics shops.

Todd thought about flying down there, but it was only fifty miles; it would be almost as fast to drive. He got his car from the garage and drove south through town to I-25. He set his cruise control at five miles an hour under the speed limit and tried to stay awake.

TEDDY AND LAUREN LEFT their rented house and drove out Old Pecos Trail.

“How long a drive is it?” Lauren asked.

“An hour or so. Then it will take you at least two hours to drive to Las Vegas and pick me up.”

“I’m sleepy,” Lauren said, moving her seat back to a reclining position. “I’m going to take a nap.”

Teddy set his cruise control at five miles an hour over the speed limit and let the SUV take care of itself. There wasn’t a lot of traffic, and soon he began overtaking a red Taurus ahead of him, driven by a man alone. He moved to the left lane and let his car overtake the other. As he passed it, he caught a glimpse of the driver’s profile. It was the young Agency man, Todd Bacon, whom Teddy had seen at Geronimo a couple of nights before. He put on a baseball cap and increased his speed.

TODD WATCHED the Jeep Grand Cherokee sail past him and thought nothing of it. If there’d been a couple inside he would have been more interested.

TEDDY KEPTHIS speed up all the way to his exit from the interstate, and by that time Bacon’s car was out of sight. It was unlikely that they’d be heading to the same destination. He drove to the airport and, in the parking lot, woke up Lauren. “We’re here,” he said. “Do you want some coffee before you start for Las Vegas?”

“No,” she replied, stretching. “I’m fine.” He got out, and she moved to the driver’s seat. “See you there,” she said, then pulled out of the parking lot and headed back toward the interstate.

TODD REACHED HIS EXIT and turned toward Double Eagle Airport. Halfway there he passed the Grand Cherokee he’d seen earlier, but this time it was driven by a woman. The two cars passed too quickly for him to get a good look at her.

AT DOUBLE EAGLE, Teddy went to the paint shop and found his airplane sitting on the ramp. He inspected the paint job on the new tail number, then went into the office and paid his bill, getting a five percent discount for cash. He went back to the airplane, did a quick preflight, checking the tanks to be sure the fuel he’d ordered was aboard, then Teddy got into the Cessna, started the engine and began running through his checklist.

TODD PARKED HIS CAR and walked past the FBO and onto the ramp, to check the place out. A Beech Baron was landing, and he watched it touch down, then he turned and began walking to the FBO. Then he saw something that interested him. There was a paint shop on the field, something that hadn’t been mentioned in his airport guide.

He walked into the hangar and saw a small glassed-in office to one side, where a man worked at a desk. He rapped on the door. “Good morning,” he said.

“Morning,” the man replied. “Can I help you?”

“I was just wondering, have you had a Cessna 182 RG in recently for some paint work?”

“Yeah, I had a customer who wanted his tail number changed.”

Todd tried to control his excitement. “When was that?”

“He paid his bill less than half an hour ago,” the man replied. “He might still be on the line.”

Todd ran out of the hangar and looked at the parked airplanes, running along the line. There were plenty of Cessnas, as usual, but he didn’t see a 182 RG. Then he turned and looked toward the runway, where a Cessna was beginning its takeoff roll. He watched it lift off and then saw the landing gear come up. He squinted, but it was too far away to read the registration number on the side. He kept watching it as it climbed, until it began making a turn to the east and disappeared.

Todd ran back to the paint-shop office. “Can you tell me what tail number you painted on that airplane?” he asked.

“Sure,” the man replied, and gave him the number.

“Do you have a name and address for the owner?” Todd asked. “I’m looking to buy a nice 182 RG.”

The man looked through some papers stacked on his desk. “Yeah, here’s the FAA form. I’m afraid he’s from Arkansas, though, and he told me he was headed home.”

“Let me make a note of this, and I’ll call him,” Todd said, scribbling down the information. He thanked the man, then ran for his car.

BART CROSS TAXIED HIS Beech Baron to the ramp at Double Eagle Airport, then ran through his shutdown checklist and cut the engines. He got his luggage out of the rear compartment, then went into the FBO to arrange for parking and fuel. Shortly after that he was on his way to Albuquerque International Airport to pick up the Mercedes station wagon.