Hothouse Orchid

47

Holly’s phone rang. She looked at the clock: seven thirty. She found the TV remote control and switched it off, then picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“It’s Lance. Getting sensitive about being seen in bed with a man?”

“None of your business,” she said.

“Well, I miss your sunny face.”

“It’s Sunday morning. What’s up, Lance?”

“He’s back.”

“Who’s back?”

“Whoever is using the Agency mainframe without authority.”

“What’s he looking for this time?”

“More on Colonel James Bruno.”

“Well, there’s good news on that front: Colonel James Bruno ate his gun the night before last and is no longer a problem to anybody.”

“Did he, now?”

“He did.”

“Anyone know why?”

“He left a note expressing remorse for raping and killing half a dozen women.”

“You’re sure it’s suicide?”

“I’m not even sure he’s dead, but I have the word of the Orchid Beach Police Department, which I used to lead, and a special investigative unit of the Florida State Police. Both agencies have investigated thoroughly and confirmed the details.”

“Lots of tests?”

“Autopsy, DNA, ballistics-the works. Plus, they found panties in Bruno’s house containing the DNA of each of the victims, along with the vaccination gun he used to subdue them.”

“Sounds like there’s no doubt.”

“Not much.”

“You have doubts?”

“Not exactly. It was all just a little too pat, but I can’t find any holes in it.”

“How do you feel about the passing of Colonel Bruno?”

“I regret only that it didn’t occur much sooner.”

“So he had a bad conscience?”

“He had enough in his life to have dropped dead of guilt, without benefit of the Glock. Only problem I can see is, he didn’t have a conscience, so why off himself?”

“I have the impression you think he might have been a victim of homicide?”

“I think it’s a possibility, but I don’t have a suspect, and neither does anybody else.”

“How about whoever’s using our mainframe for research on Bruno?”

“Tell you what, Lance, you name a suspect, and I’ll look into it.”

“How about your father?” Lance offered.

Holly sat up in bed.

“You still there, Holly?”

“Yeah.”

“You asked me to name a suspect, and I did, and I haven’t heard a demurral from you.”

Holly still didn’t speak; she was thinking too hard.

“I mean, one wouldn’t think Ham would possess the necessary codes to enter our mainframe, but he is close to someone who does. In fact, does he even possess the computer skills to get in, even with the codes?”

He certainly did, Holly thought. “Ham’s not the guy.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Holly.”

“Even with the skills, he wouldn’t have the codes.”

“If you say so. To tell you the truth, I couldn’t care less who terminated Colonel Bruno, even if it’s only himself.”

“I couldn’t care less, either. Well, maybe a little, just out of curiosity.”

“You and I both know that’s not so, Holly. I mean, you may not care who killed Bruno, but you always care and care deeply about getting it right.”

“Put Bruno out of your mind, Lance,” Holly said. “And Ham, too.”

“If you wish.”

“I wish.”

“There is just one small thing I think you would want to know.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Oh, yes,” Lance said.

“And what would that be?”

“Our geek was finally able to establish the exact locale from which the intruder was operating.”

“And where would that be?”

“Though not a street address.”

“From where is the intruder operating, Lance?”

“From Vero Beach, Florida. Or its environs.”

Silence.

“Orchid Beach would qualify as environs of Vero Beach, wouldn’t it?”

“Goodbye, Lance.” Holly hung up the phone and sat, staring, at the blank television screen.

Josh grunted and turned over. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” Holly replied, getting out of bed and into her jeans.

“You going someplace?” he asked.

“To my father’s house.”

“I was sort of looking forward to a Sunday morning in bed.”

She leaned over and kissed him. “You stay right there,” she said, “and I’ll be back. There’s something I have to ask Ham.”

“How about you ask him by phone.”

“I want to look him in the eye,” she said.

Ham was on the back porch, doing something to his fishing tackle while Ginny was busy in the kitchen.

“Hey, Ham,” she said, pulling up a chair until she was knee to knee with him.

“Hey, Sugar.”

“Ham, did you shoot Jim Bruno?”

Ham stopped fiddling with the tackle and looked straight at her. “Not yet,” he said.

“I guess you haven’t heard yet.”

“I haven’t read the paper this morning. Did somebody cheat me out of killing him?”

“Yeah. Maybe him.”

“Figures,” Ham said. “The man was a coward, through and through.”

“Yes, he was.”

“Details, please?”

Holly told him everything.

“How come you think he didn’t do it to himself?”

“I don’t know yet. It hasn’t gelled.”

“You think it’s going to gel?”

“Eventually.”

“Good luck. You want to stay for Sunday dinner? Ginny has a roast in the oven.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got something cooking myself.”