Santa Fe Edge

46

Teddy Fay logged on to the Agency mainframe, apparently from Billings, Montana, and checked the mail for box 10001.

Message received and understood.

The e-mail was unsigned, but it was from Lance Cabot’s mailbox. Still, it was inconclusive: Was he off Teddy’s back? Or did he understand but not give a shit? This wasn’t good enough.

“Any news?” Lauren asked as she came from the kitchen.

Teddy showed her the message.

“That’s great!” she said.

“It could mean anything,” Teddy responded. “Lance Cabot, Holly’s boss, is a very tenacious young man, and at times, he can be reckless.”

“What’s your next move?” she asked.

“Well, it’s clear I’m going to have to make one. I can’t just sit back and wait to see what happens.”

“That sounds ominous,” she said.

“Not necessarily. I’m going to give Lance until tomorrow to communicate with his agent, then I’m going to go looking for young Todd Bacon.”

“What will you do when you find him?” Lauren asked.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Teddy replied. He went to the command level of the e-mail program and checked Holly Barker’s trash box. There were four discarded messages from Todd Bacon, and Teddy read them, chuckling at the report about the GPS tag he had placed on Teddy’s Volvo. The first message mentioned La Fonda.

Teddy then hacked into the central computer of the company that supplied rental cars to the Santa Fe Jetcenter and found that Todd had rented a red Taurus there, but Teddy hadn’t seen that car on the day when Todd was following him. He went further and found that La Fonda used the same company, and that Todd had exchanged the Taurus for a silver Toyota. He made a note of the license plate.

LATE THAT NIGHT, Teddy put a few things into a case, then drove to La Fonda, only five minutes away. He entered the hotel parking garage and began looking for a silver Toyota. He found two, and the second one had the correct plate number.

Teddy opened his case and removed a later version of the same tracking unit that Todd had placed on the Toyota. He fastened it in place under the car, then closed his case and left the garage. Back in his car, he turned on the handheld GPS unit and got a response from the Toyota.

Good, he thought. Now he could choose the time and place of his meeting with Todd.

TODD WAS, at that moment, in bed with Dolly in his hotel room, doing one of the things that she clearly loved most. After he had brought her and himself to a screaming climax, he lay back in bed with her head on his chest and ran his fingers through her thick hair.

“What’s become of your friend Ellie Keeler?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Dolly replied. “I haven’t heard from her.”

“That name is familiar. Is her first name Eleanor?”

“Yes.”

“How did you meet her?”

“She rented the guesthouse next door to Tip’s place when I was living in his guesthouse. She knocked on the door, and I gave her a drink.”

“I’ll bet that’s not all you gave her.” Todd chuckled.

She reached up and slapped him lightly across the face. “Behave yourself,” she said.

“I was thinking, why don’t we get together again? She was quite something.”

“Yes, she is, isn’t she? I’d like that.”

“Do you know how to get in touch with her?”

“I have her cell phone number,” Dolly replied. “I’ll call her in the morning, if you like.”

“Tomorrow night is good for me,” Todd said. “I’ll take the two of you to dinner, if you can get hold of her.”

“I’m sure she’d like to get hold of you,” Dolly laughed.

“And you as well,” Todd said.

VITTORIO AND CUPIE got back to Vittorio’s house late, after stopping for dinner on the way from Albuquerque Airport.

Vittorio found the Los Alamos section of the phone book and looked for the name “Holroyd.” There was only one listing.

“It’s on Big Bowl Road,” he said.

“Do you know it?”

“Yeah. A zillion years ago the mountain where Los Alamos is was an active volcano. One day the thing exploded, blowing the top off the mountain and sending pieces of it as far away as Kansas. The result was that a big, shallow bowl of a valley was formed where the top of the mountain used to be, and that’s where Big Bowl Road is. It’s very beautiful up there.”

“Well, tomorrow, why don’t we do some sightseeing?” Cupie suggested.

“I think that’s a good idea.”

“Is there a house number?”

“Yes, 1228. That’s part of the new federal plan to give every house in the U.S. a street address, for the emergency services, in case they have to find it. It means that the Holroyd house is twelve-point-twenty-eight miles from the nearest intersection with a main road, so it shouldn’t be hard to find.”

“Now,” Cupie said, “we have to talk about what we do if we find her.”

“Yeah,” Vittorio replied. “I guess we do.”

BARBARA HAD REACHED the Holroyds’ house in time for dinner, and their cook had done some of her best work. They feasted on venison that Hugh had shot near his house.

“There’s plenty of it up here,” he said. “All you have to do is conceal yourself, make sure you have a clear field of fire and wait. One will come along soon.”

“Hugh, how long have you two lived up here?”

“Seven years,” Holroyd said, “though we travel a lot. We also kept our place in San Francisco.”

“That’s where I live, too,” Barbara said.

“Wait a minute: Keeler. Were you married to Walter Keeler?”

“Yes, I was,” Barbara replied.

“I read about his death in that awful accident,” Hugh said. “I’m very sorry.”

“Thank you. Did you know Walter?”

“Yes. I did some business with him, supplied aluminum avionics trays for the units he manufactured. I liked him.”

“So did I,” Barbara said.

“I knew his lawyer, too-Joe Wilen?”

“Oh, yes,” Barbara said. “I knew him, too.”

“I didn’t like him as much as Walter, though. He tried to screw me on a deal once.”

“He did the same for me,” Barbara said. She told them about how Wilen and his associate had changed her husband’s will.

“Well, I hope you finally get everything that’s coming to you,” Hugh said.

“I usually do,” Barbara replied.