Short Straw

Fifty-one

ED EAGLE WAS AT HIS DESK WHEN THE CALL CAME.

"Vittorio for you on line one."

Eagle pressed the button. "Ed Eagle."

"Mr. Eagle, I've found Barbara."

"Was she at La Reserve?"

"Yes, but she checked out this morning."

"Why didn't you get the signatures before that?"

"I visited her cottage last night and got shot for my trouble."

"Are you badly hurt, Vittorio?"

"No. I had some stitches, but it's superficial."

"Where is she now?"

"She's on her way to L.A. The concierge at La Reserve booked her into an apartment hotel called Chateau Sunset."

"I know the place; it's the kind of hotel where people who've been thrown out of their houses during divorces go to live termporarily. It's expensive, but not as much as the Beverly Hills or the Bel-Air."

"She's still got whatever traveler's checks she hasn't spent."

"I can't imagine that would last her long, if she's living in places like Chateau Sunset."

"I guess not. I'm on the road, about two hours behind her."

"I'm coming to L.A.," Eagle said.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Vittorio replied.

"I'm coming anyway. You confirm that she's checked in at Chateau Sunset, then find yourself a room. Meet me in the bar at the Bel-Air at seven o'clock."

"As you wish," Vittorio said. "What's your plan?"

"I don't have one yet, but I will by seven o'clock."

"I'll see you at the Bel-Air, then."

Eagle hung up. He might not have a plan yet, but he was sure of one thing: Barbara did.

VITTORIO CALLED A SUITE HOTEL, Le Parc, and booked himself in. It would be half the price of Chateau Sunset and a better place for Barbara, he reflected. He drove straight to the hotel, off Melrose in West Hollywood, and checked in, then he called Chateau Sunset.

"Chateau Sunset," the operator said.

"May I speak to Barbara Woodfield?" he asked.

"Just a moment… She hasn't checked in yet, but we're expecting her. Can I take a message?"

"This is the concierge at La Reserve, in La Jolla. Please tell her that we called just to see if everything was all right. There's no need for her to return the call."

"I'll see that she gets the message on check-in," the woman said.

Vittorio hung up, satisfied that Chateau Sunset was where she was headed. He changed the dressing on his wound, then lay down for a nap.

BARBARA EAGLE WOODFIELD checked in at Chateau Sunset a few minutes later.

"There's a message for you," the desk clerk said, gazing at his computer screen.

"A message?" she asked, alarmed. Nobody knew she was here.

"The concierge at La Reserve in La Jolla called to be sure everything is all right. No need for you to return the call."

Barbara heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank you.".

A bellman wearing a pin-striped suit led her to a corner suite overlooking the pool in the courtyard behind the hotel, got her some ice and accepted her tip.

Barbara had a look around and approved. She unpacked and ran a bath, then called the concierge.

"Yes, Ms. Woodfield?"

"I'd like a massage in my room in an hour. Can you arrange that?"

"Of course. Would you prefer a male or female, and what technique?"

"Female, Swedish."

"It will be done, Ms. Woodfield."

Barbara hung up and walked into the bathroom, then stopped. She was feeling randy, and she wanted male company. She went back into the bedroom and got her address book from her purse, then called a number.

"Hello?"

"Hi, there. How are you?"

"Who's this?"

"Don't you recognize the voice?"

"Of course, I do. How are you, Barbara?"

"Very well, thank you."

"Last I heard, you were married and living in Santa Fe."

"Both of those are over. You free for dinner?"

"Sure. Where are you staying? I'll pick you up."

"I'll be out and about. Why don't we meet somewhere?"

"You name it."

"How about the bar at the Bel-Air, at seven-thirty? We could dine there, too."

"See you then."

"Oh, I'm a blonde, now."

"I can't wait to see that."

"Bye-bye."

EAGLE CALLED SUSANNAH.

"Hello?"

"Good morning. How are you?"

"I'm just dandy, thanks."

"I have to go to L.A. overnight, maybe two. Want to come with me?"

"Funny you should mention that; there are some things I want from my apartment there. How are we traveling?"

"In my airplane. If they're small things, no problem."

"Great. I'd invite you to stay at my place, but it's being redecorated and will be a mess."

"I'll book us in at the Bel-Air. Pick you up at, say, noon?"

"Fine. Shall I make us a sandwich?"

"Good idea. See you then." Eagle hung up and buzzed Betty.

"I have to go to L.A. for a day or two. Cancel all my appointments for tomorrow and the next day."

"All right. There's nothing pressing."

"And please call the Bel-Air and book me into my usual suite for two nights, then call the rental car people and get me something nice, delivered to Supermarine at Santa Monica airport at three-thirty P.M."

"Will do."

Eagle went home and packed a bag. He gave some thought as to whether to take a weapon, but he didn't have a California carry license, so he put it out of his mind. He called the airport and asked that his airplane be pulled out of his hangar and refueled, then he went to his computer and his flight-planning software. He constructed a plan, then called for a weather forecast and filed the flight plan.

EAGLE PICKED UP SUSANNAH at noon and drove to Santa Fe Municipal Airport. He opened the hangar door and parked inside, then took their luggage out of the trunk and closed the hangar door.

Eagle unlocked the airplane and stowed the baggage behind the rear seats, then helped Susannah into the copilot's seat. He closed and locked the door, then climbed in next to her.

"What kind of airplane is this?" she asked.

"It's a pressurized, six-place, single-engine Piper Malibu Mirage that's had the engine ripped off and replaced with a turbine, turning a propeller."

"What's a turbine?"

"A jet engine. The airplane is now called a Jetprop."

Eagle started the airplane and worked his way through his checklist, listening to the airport weather on the radio, then obtaining an Instrument Flight Rules clearance from the tower, then taxiing to the runway.

Twenty minutes later, they were at twenty-four thousand feet.