“Love to,” Barbara replied. “If that’s okay with you, Dolly.”
“Of course it is,” Dolly replied.
“Bartender,” Todd said, “do you think you could find us a table for three?”
Dolly thought the odds of a very good evening had improved by a factor of three.
40
Todd woke up sometime in the middle of the night. There was a woman asleep on his shoulder and another asleep with her head on his crotch. He wasn’t sure, in the dark, which was which. The two of them had exhausted him during the first hour of their visit to his room at the Inn of the Anasazi, and his last memory before drifting off was of the two of them occupied with each other. This was a first for Todd, but he hoped it wouldn’t be the last.
His frustration with his work in Santa Fe had reached a new high when he had followed the red light on his GPS unit north from Santa Fe, then through a turn toward Taos. Baffled, he had pulled closer to the Volvo until he saw the green shape, and when the car ahead had stopped at a gas station he continued past it, only to find that it was a Ford, not a Volvo.
He made a U-turn and pulled into the station, just in time to see an elderly woman pumping gas. When she went into the station to pay, he did a quick search under her car and, swearing aloud, found the little box under her rear bumper.
He returned to his car and drove back to Santa Fe. How the hell could Lauren Cade-or, for that matter, Teddy Fay-have found the thing? It was uncanny, and he could not come up with a plausible explanation for how the switch of the device to the Ford had happened.
Now his frustration had melted into a warm pool of carnal gratification, and he didn’t feel so bad about losing the Volvo. Fortunately, he had not lost the little box, which would live to spy again.
The woman whose head was on his crotch stirred, and he stirred, too, when he found himself in her mouth.
“Oh, good,” she said, “you’re back.” Then she returned to work. It was Dolly.
TEDDY WAS FINISHING his breakfast when Lauren came in from taking out the garbage. “I’m confused,” she said. “Why do we have a Tahoe in the garage?”
“It was the only thing the dealer had that was in good shape and had four-wheel drive and snow tires.”
“Why do we need it?” she asked.
“Did you look around when you went outside? There’s six inches of snow on the ground. Happens every year about this time.”
“Oh, come on, Teddy. What happened?”
He explained about his discovery of the little black box under the Volvo.
“Good God. How long had it been there?”
“Not long,” Teddy replied, “or young Mr. Bacon would have been all over us. My guess is he saw the Volvo in the grocery-store parking lot and recognized it from when he chased you. Don’t worry, I transferred the device to another car, so he’s out there somewhere following a Ford around.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “You are so smart.”
“Well, I’m a little smarter than Todd Bacon,” Teddy said. “And I’ll try to keep it that way.”
THE THREE OF THEM had breakfast at the table in Todd’s room, notwithstanding the look on the room-service waiter’s face. Nobody was embarrassed, but everybody was pretty much wrung out, Todd thought.
“You were wonderful last night,” Dolly said to him.
“We were all wonderful,” Barbara said.
“We must do it again sometime,” Todd offered.
“I’m going to be tied up for a few days,” Barbara said, “but you kids enjoy yourselves.”
“What’s in that?” Dolly asked, pointing to a sturdy-looking aluminum case on the bench at the end of the bed.
“Spy stuff,” Todd replied, popping a piece of sausage into his mouth.
“Todd,” Dolly said to Barbara, “is sticking with the old pickup line about being a CIA agent.”
“Why do you think it’s a line?” Barbara asked. “I mean, there are people who are CIA agents, and some of them must get to Santa Fe from time to time. Wouldn’t it amuse you to believe him?”
Todd laughed. “What do you do, Ellie, and what brings you to Santa Fe?”
“I’m a rich widow for a living, and I go where I please. At the moment, I’m pleased to be in Santa Fe.”
“Where were you most recently?” he asked.
“In San Francisco,” she replied. “And before that, in a Mexican prison.”
Todd laughed. “You see, Dolly, Ellie has an even better story than mine.”
“Perhaps we all have noncredible backgrounds,” Dolly said. “I’m an embezzler on the run!”
“Then let’s all stick with our stories,” Barbara said.
41
Susannah arrived at the hospital with a cake tin filled with Ed’s favorite cookies, only to have a nurse stop her on the way to his room.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Eagle,” the woman said, “but your husband has picked up an infection. We’ve got him on IV antibiotics, but he’s going to have to stay a few more days, until his temperature is normal and he’s strong enough to walk by himself.”
“Is there anything that can be done that isn’t already being done?” Susannah asked.
“No, ma’am,” the woman replied. “He’s getting everything he needs except, maybe, a cookie.”
Susannah smiled wanly and continued to Ed’s room. She greeted the cop at the door, then went into the room. “Good morning!” she said brightly.
Ed’s bed was in the sitting-up position, and he turned to greet her with a wan smile of his own. “Hey, baby,” he said wearily. “Seems I’ve got an infection and a fever. You’re going to have to wait awhile to take me home.”
She sat on the bed and brushed the hair from his forehead. “That’s all right, sweetie,” she said. “You just rest.” She set the cake tin down on his belly. “I brought you some cookies,” she said.
Eagle lifted the tin. “Pretty weighty for just cookies,” he replied.
“Well, there’s a little pre-Christmas gift in there, too.”
“I hope it’s bourbon,” he said.
“Let’s just say it’s good for what ails you.”
“Yesterday this time I thought I’d be going home this morning.”
She kissed him high on the cheek, a place he liked. “Don’t you worry about a thing,” she said. “Every little thing is under control.”
DOWN THE ROAD a couple of hundred yards, one of the little things that was not under control was taking the cellophane wrapping off a box of very expensive chocolates. Barbara checked herself in the mirror. She had spent the earlier part of the morning at a copy and computer shop, making herself an ID that said she worked for the state Department of Health. She had copied a state seal off the department’s website, photographed herself in scrubs, printed the photo, added her typeset name and printed the badge, then laminated it. It wasn’t perfect, but it would pass. She also made a state sticker for her windshield and downloaded a full-size copy of a New Mexico State employee license plate, which she printed out on a plastic material with a sticky side. She tucked the box of candy under an arm and left the hotel for the hospital. She applied the phony license plate over the real one and stuck the state sticker on the inside of her windshield, on the driver’s side.
She parked in the employees’ lot and walked past the fat cop, who was outside, smoking again. “Morning,” she said with a wave. He hardly noticed her. She walked down the hallway and saw the relief cop at Eagle’s door, marking it very nicely.
“Good morning,” she said cheerfully to the man. “Have one of these delicious chocolates. They were a gift, but if I eat them all I’ll gain twenty pounds.” She thrust the box at him.