Stuart Woods - Santa Fe Edge

VITTORIO, WHO WAS an Apache, descended from his great-greatgrandfather of the same name, stood out in the airport crowd, with his black clothing and black flat-brimmed hat. The inky braided hair to his shoulder blades helped, too.

In the car, Cupie handed him two thousand in cash. Vittorio tucked it into an inside pocket of his vest and started the car. Shortly they were on I-25, headed north toward Santa Fe. “What have we got to go on?” he asked.

“Zip,” Cupie said, “except we know she’s going to go after Eagle, and Eagle is in Santa Fe. So is James Long, who is her only friend in the world, as far as I can tell. He’s going to be our link.”

“Barbara makes friends quickly,” Vittorio observed. “Then she fucks them or kills them, or both.”

Cupie laughed. “You would know, wouldn’t you?” Vittorio had fucked her, and she had pushed him off a ferry in the Sea of Cortez.

“Don’t rub it in,” Vittorio said ruefully.

“What’s the deal with Long?” Cupie asked.

“She fucks him, but she hasn’t killed him,” Vittorio replied. “I guess she has to leave somebody alive to help her when she’s in trouble.”

“Yeah, but why does he do it?”

“Some guys will do anything for a good lay, and Barbara is one hell of a lay.”

“That’s it?”

“What else? Can you think of anything?”

“Not really.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“But how the hell could Jimmy Long engineer this prison break? Who does he know that could forge a transfer order from the Mexican Ministry of Justice?”

“Somebody in the Ministry of Justice, I guess,” Vittorio replied. “The guy has made movies in Mexico, you know. He has to deal with government officials and probably bribe them to get the necessary permits.”

“Yeah, but the Ministry of Justice doesn’t handle that, do they?”

“Beats me,” Vittorio said. “You think Barbara could already be in Santa Fe? Or maybe she’s just going to hire somebody like last time.”

“Last time didn’t work,” Cupie said, “and the guy’s doing life. She’s going to want to see to it herself this time; I’ll bet on it.”

Dolly Parks waited until Tip Hanks had come home from his practice session before trying it. She came into his study from her adjoining office. “Tip,” she said, “I’m going to need to take a day or two off to find a new place to live. I’ve had a week-to-week deal at my current apartment, hoping to get a long-term lease, but the landlord wants it back for his granddaughter.”

Tip swiveled around in his chair. “Why don’t you move into my guesthouse?” he asked. “Connie made me build it for her friends, and I rarely have guests.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Dolly said. “Are you sure it wouldn’t be an imposition?”

“Not at all. Come on, I’ll show you the place.” He led her out of the house by the kitchen door and down a path to the guesthouse. “The house key works in this lock, too,” Tip said, unlocking the front door and holding it open for her.

“It’s beautiful,” Dolly said, looking around the living room, then looking at the two bedrooms and kitchen.

“There’s a patio out back, with a path leading to the pool and tennis court,” Tip said.

“What sort of rent are we talking about?” she asked, turning to face him.

He looked puzzled. “Rent? No rent, just take it as part of your deal.”

She wanted to hug him, but it was too soon. “Oh, Tip, you’re wonderful,” she said.

“Move in whenever you like,” he replied.

Dolly glanced out the living-room window and saw a corner of another house. “Who lives there?”

“Oh, some couple from New York. They’re only here in the summer. That’s their guesthouse.”

Dolly walked to the window and saw a woman taking things from a car and carrying them into the house.

“You’ve got your own driveway,” Tip said. “Right this way.” He led her outside and showed her how to drive to her new house. There was also a one-car garage.

“The house has its own linens and washer and dryer, and Carmen will keep it clean and do your laundry.”

“It’s so wonderful, I can’t believe it!” Dolly enthused. This had been easier than she thought.

“I’ve got to get back to my e-mail,” Tip said. “You stay and look into the nooks and crannies.” He left and went back to the main house.

Dolly went into the kitchen and began opening cabinet doors. It was well equipped, and there were even pots and pans and utensils. She liked cooking, and she would enjoy this kitchen.

To her surprise there was a knock at the kitchen door, and she opened it. A very beautiful woman of indeterminate age stood there in tight jeans and a sweater.

“Hi,” the woman said. “My name is Ellie Keeler. I’m just moving in next door, and I thought I’d say hello.”

“Please come in,” Dolly said. “I’m Dolly Parks, and I’m just moving in, too.”

“Beautiful place,” Barbara said, looking around the living room. “This is the guesthouse, right?”

“Yes. The main house is up the walk.”

“Who lives there?”

“His name is Tip Hanks. He’s a professional golfer.”

“Oh, yes. I watched the end of the tournament in Houston, when he sank that long putt.” Barbara went and looked at the bedrooms. “Looks like you haven’t moved in yet.”

“No, I’ll do that tomorrow.”

“I’ll give you a hand, if you like.”

“Thanks, but I don’t have a lot of stuff, mostly clothes. I’m moving from a small, furnished apartment in town. Would you like a drink? There’s some liquor in a little bar and some beer in the fridge.”

“A beer would be great,” Barbara replied, settling onto a sofa.

BARBARA WATCHED HER walk away and admired her figure. There was something about this girl, she thought. Something in her is like me. Dolly came back with two beers and took a seat on a chair.

“Where are you from, Dolly?” Barbara asked.

“I grew up in Connecticut – Westport -and I worked in New York for a few years before I came out here earlier this year. How about you?”

“I grew up in La Jolla,” Barbara lied. “When I met my husband I moved to San Francisco with him. He was killed a few months ago in a car crash.”

“I’m so sorry,” Dolly said.

“Well, being a widow requires some adjustment,” Barbara said. “You wake up and there’s nobody on the other side of the bed. I miss the sex. Have you ever been married?”

“No. I had a couple of close scrapes, but I managed to stay out of trouble.”

“Smart girl,” Barbara said. “Someone as beautiful as you won’t have any trouble attracting men.”

“Thank you,” Dolly said, “but it isn’t always easy. Most of the single men I’ve met in Santa Fe have been gay. They’re good company and good friends, but you know…”

“I know,” Barbara said.

They talked and laughed for the better part of an hour and got through another beer before Barbara excused herself.

“I’ve got some unpacking to do,” she said. “Maybe we could have dinner sometime?”

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow evening, and we’ll christen my new kitchen? I enjoy cooking.”

“How nice! What time?”

“Say seven?”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Dolly showed her to the kitchen door, and Barbara went back to her own guesthouse. This was going to work out well, she thought, if she was right about Dolly.

Lauren Cade woke up and found Teddy looking at her. “Hey, there,” she said.

“Hey, yourself,” he replied. He was sitting up in bed with the morning newspapers.