Grant sat up and looked at her. “The tree,” he said. “The one where you carved theH. You buried it near there.”
“I’m not talking,” Holly said smugly.
“You can’t keep it, you know.”
“I was thinking of giving it to you,” she said playfully. “But not if you’re going to disappear on me.”
“It belongs to the government.”
“Why should it? I stole it, fair and square.”
“No, you stole it from the government.”
“At the time, the government had not even expressed an interest in it, let alone possessed it.”
Grant lay back on the chaise. “This is an interesting situation,” he said. “You stole it from Ed Shine, which means drug dealers. He probably doesn’t even know it.”
“I shouldn’t think so.”
“You’re not a federal employee.”
“No, I’m not.”
“But it’s still grand theft.”
“Who is the complainant?”
“There isn’t one, I suppose,” he admitted.
“It was my intention to give the money to the FBI and have them use it as a basis for a search warrant, but, of course, I was overtaken by events.”
“I should probably arrest you,” Grant said.
“For what?”
“For stealing that money.”
“What money?”
“The money buried under the tree.”
“What tree?”
“The one with your initial on it.”
“I think if you could actually find the spot where we were that night-not that we were ever there-you wouldn’t find my initial on any tree in the woods.”
“You moved the money?”
“What money?”
“I give up,” Grant said, lying down.
“Smart move.”
“Probably not.”
“So, when are you leaving for your new assignment?”
“First of the week.”
“And when will I see you again?”
“I don’t know how long this will take.”
“I’d rather you didn’t go,” she said.
“Holly, it’s what I do.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Yes, it is.”
“I’m telling you, it’s not what you do. Not anymore.”
Grant sat up again. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“I know a lot of things you don’t,” she replied smugly.
“What? Come on, tell me.”
“I know a lot of stuff.”
“I’m going to go get my gun.”
Holly raised her hands in surrender. “Well, let’s see: The rumor about Harry’s reassignment is true, but as I understand it, they haven’t yet found a place awful enough to transfer him to.”
“Who have you been talking to?”
“A gentleman named William Barron, who, I believe, is a deputy director of the FBI.”
“Barron? How the hell do you know him?”
“I don’t know him, exactly; he came to see me after we shut down Blood Orchid.”
“Why?”
“He had a lot of questions about how the whole thing came off. He wanted to know everything, right from the beginning.”
“And what did you tell him?”
Holly shrugged. “Everything.”
“Holly, are you telling me that you blew Harry Crisp out of the water?”
“Nope, all I did was to tell that nice Mr. Barron everything I knew. I didn’t cast any aspersions; he drew his own conclusions.”
“When does Harry go?”
“I believe he’s already gone.”
“And what was that you said about my work not being my work?”
“Come Monday, you’re going to have a new job,” she said.
Grant sat up straighter. “How do you know this?”
“Because I have a little handwritten note from Mr. Barron in my bag; it was delivered this morning.”
Grant grabbed at her bag, but she snatched it away and put it where he couldn’t reach it.
“Holly, you’re killing me.”
“Well, I certainly don’t want to kill you. Not now, anyway; maybe later.”
“Do you know what my new assignment is?”
“Yes. That was the purpose of Mr. Barron’s little note. He thought you might like to hear it from me, while the Bureau is doing whatever they have to do to produce an official letter.”
“What? Where?”
“Agent in charge. Miami office.”
He grabbed her and pulled her up to his face. “This is not some sadistic joke on your part?”
Holly reached in her bag and produced the note. Grant read it and handed it back, then he waved at a waiter. “Two more rum and tonics,” he said.
“So, how do you feel?”
Grant lay back on the chaise. “Lighter than air,” he said. “There’s only one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“Now Ihave to arrest you for stealing that money.”
“What money?” she asked.
Acknowledgments
I want to express my thanks to all the people at Putnam who have worked so hard to achieve success for this and past books, particularly my editor, David Highfill, who has been wonderful.
I am always grateful to my literary agents, Morton Janklow and Anne Sibbald, and their superb support group at Janklow amp; Nesbit, for their continuing management of my career over the past twenty-two years. It is important for a writer to know he is in good hands, and I have always appreciated the hands in which I rest.
Author’s Note
I am happy to hear from readers, but you should know that if you write to me in care of my publisher, three to six months will pass before I receive your letter, and when it finally arrives it will be one among many, and I will not be able to reply.
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