Orchid Blues

11

Emily Harston left the bank five minutes after closing time and went to her car, an older, but presentable, pale blue Ford Escort. She got in, fastened her seat belt, backed out of her space and drove away. Holly, parked on the street nearby, followed her.

Holly stayed four or five cars back, even though she was driving her usual unmarked car. If Emily Harston was connected in some way to the bank robbery, this was no time to spook her.

Emily drove to a strip shopping center on the west side of Orchid Beach, parked her car and went into the supermarket. Twenty-five minutes later, Holly watched through a window as she paid for her groceries in cash. She emerged from the store pushing a heavily laden cart and went back to her car. She loaded the groceries, returned the cart to the place provided and drove out of the parking lot, turning west again.

Holly followed at an even more discreet distance as Emily proceeded across the South Bridge and headed west toward the interior of the state. Twenty minutes later, she signaled left, made the turn and disappeared from sight. Holly slowed as she approached the turnoff and was surprised to see that there were no street signs or signposts at the turn, just a dirt road headed straight south. Holly could see down it about a quarter of a mile, and the blue Escort was no longer visible.

Holly turned into the road and drove slowly down it. After a quarter of a mile, the road turned southwest, and there followed another straight stretch. Half a mile later, the road turned south again, and this time, Holly stopped her car, got out, walked to the turn and peered down the road. Another straight stretch lay ahead.

She got back into her car and drove until she came to another turn in the road, then She got out and looked again. This time she found herself looking down what appeared to be the main street of an old Florida town, no more than two hundred yards away. The street continued past a number of storefronts on both sides until it seemed to disappear into the lake. She went back to her car and got out a large-scale Florida atlas and found the correct page. The lake was there, but the town was not. She looked at the publication date of the atlas and found that it was less than a year old.

Holly sat and thought about this for a moment. She had found what appeared to be a town that did not appear on a recent map, which was very unusual. New towns did not pop up all that suddenly in Florida or anywhere else. She was reluctant to proceed into the little town until she knew more, so she turned her car around and drove back toward the highway. She passed no other cars, and she noted that there were no other roads turning off this one.

Daisy, who had been sleeping soundly in the rear seat, woke up and put her muzzle on Holly's shoulder. "You have a nice nap, girl?" Holly asked, scratching her under the chin, a favorite place. Daisy sighed sleepily. Holly punched the speed-dial button on her cell phone for Ham's number.

"It's Ham here," he said.

"Hey, good dinner last night."

"Glad you liked it."

"You want to go fishing tomorrow?"

"Sure, what time you want to come over?"

"Not there. I want to make a little expedition."

"To where?"

"If you'll get out a map and look very closely, you'll find a lake called Winachobee, about twenty-five or thirty miles west of Orchid Beach." She heard a rustling of papers.

"That little old thing?" Ham asked. "It's probably just a mud hole."

"It's not all that little. You must be using a small-scale map."

"Well, yeah, I guess so."

"I got a glimpse of it a few minutes ago, and it looked fairly substantial. There's a little town on the shore."

"I don't see the town."

"I don't think it appears on any map; that's what intrigues me. Why don't you put your boat on the pickup and collect me early tomorrow morning. I'll explain on the way."

"Okay, you're on."

"See you then." She hung up. "You want to go fishing tomorrow, Daisy?"

Daisy made a compliant grunting noise. Holly swore sometimes that the dog could talk.

Her cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's Stone. Are you on the road somewhere?"

"Yeah, I'm a few miles west, heading back toward Orchid."

"You want to see my airplane?"

"Sure, when?"

"How about right now?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm on the Piper ramp at the Vero Beach airport."

"I can be there in twenty minutes."

"The tail number is November one, two, three, tango foxtrot."

"I'll find you." She punched off and took a right on Highway 1.

Stone Barrington was standing next to his new airplane, talking to another man as she pulled up. "Stay, Daisy," she said, and got out of the car.

Stone introduced the man as his instructor, then the man left. "Climb in," he said.

She walked up the airstair door and into a leather-upholstered cabin. Four seats in club style made up the rear portion, and she climbed forward into the copilot's seat.

Stone followed her and sat in the-left seat. "What do you think?"

"It's beautiful; it even smells beautiful. Awful lot of gauges and instruments, though. I'm used to simpler airplanes, like Cessna 172s."

"It's a much more complicated aircraft," Stone said.

"When do you fly her home?"

"Probably the day after tomorrow. My first flight went well."

"Let me run something by you."

"Okay."

She told him about following Emily Harston and about the little town she discovered.

"Seems strange, doesn't it?" Stone said.

"Yes, it does. Have you ever run across anything like that?"

"Can't say that I have."

"Could you call the guy in New York and see if you can find out anything more about the place these people lived, the ones who disappeared?"

"Sure, glad to."

"I'd appreciate it if you'd call me at home tonight and tell me what you find out. Ham and I are going out there tomorrow."

"Ham?"

"My father. He's a retired army master sergeant and a fisherman. We're going to poke our noses into that place, on the pretext of looking for some fishing, and see what we can see."

"This is all very interesting. I'd want to come, if I wasn't flying again tomorrow."

"Maybe next time," she said. She looked at her watch. "Well, I'd better get back to the station."

They both got out of the airplane.

"She's a lovely color, too." The airplane was a rich cream on top and a deep red on the bottom.

"Thanks. Holly, I think you ought to be very careful tomorrow. Don't press your luck in this place."

"Don't worry."

"Good idea, I'll do that."

They shook hands.

"I'll call you tonight after I've called New York," he said.

"Thanks, Stone." Holly got back into her car and, with Daisy, drove back toward Orchid Beach.