“Stop,” Lance said, pointing. “Only one airplane ready for takeoff.” He dug a pair of small binoculars out of the glove compartment and trained them on the airplane. “Can’t see the registration number.”
“Just wait,” Stone said. “The airplane will turn right as it leaves the ramp, and you’ll be able to see it.”
The door to the jet closed, and it began to taxi. As Stone had predicted, it turned right.
“Got it,” Lance said, jotting down the number. “Don’t move the car, just let them taxi right past us.” He got out his cell phone and pressed a speed-dial number. “This is Echo 4141,” he said. “I need the current flight plan for the following aircraft registration number.” He read out the tail number. “It will be activated at Teterboro, New Jersey, momentarily. I need the destination and any stops in between.” He put a hand over the phone. “They’re logging on the FAA’s Air Traffic Control computer now,” he said to the backseat. “Yes? Thank you. I’d like a trace on the aircraft in case it changes destinations, and I’d like to know what time it is projected to land. Right.” He hung up. “Their destination is Santa Fe, New Mexico,” he said.
“I wonder why Santa Fe?” Holly asked.
“Trini will blend in with the large Hispanic population there. It sounds like a final destination, too. If they were going to put him on a commercial flight, they’d go to Albuquerque. Santa Fe has few commercial flights, and none late at night.”
“Can you get someone to cover the arrival and follow them to their destination?” Stone asked.
“I’m afraid I can’t stretch my authority that far, since I’m based in New York. I’m not even sure we have anybody on the ground in Santa Fe. Maybe Albuquerque, though.”
They watched as the jet took off and turned to the southwest.
“We may as well go home,” Lance said.
“Did they give you an ETA for Santa Fe?” Stone asked.
“They’ve flight-planned for four hours and ten minutes,” Lance replied.
Stone looked at his watch.
“It’s two hours earlier in Santa Fe. You know somebody out there?” Holly asked.
“I used to, but it’s been a long time,” Stone said.
“It’s worth a try,” Holly said.
“What the hell, I’ll try,” Stone said, getting out his cell phone. “I did some work once with a lawyer out there. If he remembers me, maybe he’ll help.” He dialed information. “A number in Santa Fe, New Mexico, for the residence of Ed Eagle,” he said. “Please connect me.” While the number rang, he turned to Holly. “You really want to chase him down?”
“More than anything.”
“Hello,” a deep voice said at the other end of the phone.
“Ed?”
“Yes, who’s this?”
“Ed, this is Stone Barrington, in New York. We did a little work together a few years back.”
“Of course, Stone. How are you?”
“I’m very well, thank you. I hope you are, as well.”
“I can’t complain. Business is brisk and life is sweet.”
“Well, you can’t ask for more than that. Ed, I need something done in Santa Fe, and I hope you can help me.”
“I will if I can. What do you need?”
“I need a private detective, or just somebody smart, to meet a private jet that’s going to be landing in Santa Fe in about four hours. There are three to five men aboard, and I want them followed to their destination.”
“I think I know a fellow who can handle that,” Eagle said. “Anything else he should know?”
“One of them is wanted in Florida on a fugitive warrant. The others are FBI agents, and they’ll probably be met by an FBI car.”
“A fugitive traveling with FBI agents?”
“It’s complicated. I’ll explain it when I get there.”
“You’re coming out, then?”
“I’ll leave tomorrow morning in my own airplane; probably be there in time for dinner. Can you recommend a hotel?”
“How many are you?”
“Myself and a lady cop.”
“Can you share a room?”
“You betcha.”
“Then I insist you stay with me. Call me at your fuel stop and give me an ETA, and I’ll meet you.”
“Thank you, Ed. If the destination of these parties is not local, then I’ll need to know that. It might cause a change of plan.”
“I’ll call you by eight tomorrow morning, your time, and give you my man’s report on their destination.”
“Thank you, Ed. I’ll speak to you then.” He hung up and turned to Holly. “Okay, we’re going to Santa Fe.”
“Are you sure we shouldn’t fly commercial?”
“I don’t fly commercial, except overseas.”
38
THE FOLLOWING MORNING at 7:45, Stone had just finished packing when the phone rang.
“Hello?
“Stone, it’s Ed Eagle.”
“Good morning, Ed.”
“My man was at Santa Fe Airport last night when the jet in question landed and was met by a van with federal plates. He followed the group to a house out on the north side of town, in a semi-remote area. After a few minutes, the van left the house with three occupants, which indicates that your fugitive is in the house with at least two agents.”
“That’s great news, Ed. Thanks very much.”
“Stone, I don’t know if you’ve considered the ramifications of trying to arrest a fugitive who’s already in federal custody.”
“I’m just helping out a friend,” Stone replied, “and I’m constantly reminding her of the difficulties involved, but she’s determined to take this guy back to Florida for trial.”
“We’ll talk some more when you get here,” Eagle said.
“Okay. We’re refueling in Saint Louis, and I’ll call you from there with an ETA.”
“A word of advice. If you can stretch your fuel for landing at Wichita, it’s a faster in-and-out.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. We’ll have to see how the actual, as opposed to forecast, headwinds work out.”
“See you tonight then.”
“Thanks again, Ed.”
Holly came into the room. “What’s up?”
“They’re in Santa Fe, and Ed’s guy followed them to a house there, so it may be Trini’s final destination.”
“I’m ready to go when you are.”
“Then let’s do it.”
Joan drove them to Teterboro, where Stone did a preflight inspection and got a clearance. They were rolling by nine o’clock.
Their route took them over Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, and the headwinds proved light enough for Stone to make Wichita for refueling. He called Ed Eagle from there and gave him an ETA of nine p.m., Santa Fe time.
Ed Eagle was standing on the ramp when Stone taxied up to the Santa Fe Jet Center, and ten minutes later they were headed to Eagle’s house.
“I’ve had a man watching the house all day,” Ed said, “and nobody has left the place.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s about five miles north of the center of town, off Tano Road, on Tano Norte. The area has some new houses, but it’s not all built up yet. There’s a lot of empty land around it. I know the house, because I knew the guy who built it, and I went to a couple of dinner parties there.”
“Can you describe it to me?”
“A single story-there are restrictions on building height out there-three bedrooms, a library, living room, dining room, kitchen, garage-about six thousand square feet. A subsequent owner built an elaborate wall along the road, so you can’t see the house from the road.”
“Does the wall go all the way around the house?”
“No. You could approach it on foot, but the terrain is a little rough-arroyos and ravines on the property. I did the closing when the original owner bought the property, and as I recall, he bought half of a twenty-five-acre tract. There are no other houses within, say, five hundred feet. There’s also a swimming pool and cabana, a tennis court, and a guest house.”
“Sounds pretty elaborate for somebody in the Witness Protection Program.”