Stuart Woods - Santa Fe Edge

Teddy had put himself in the younger man’s shoes: He was looking for two people, neither of which he had ever had a good look at, nor did he have photographs of them. He didn’t know where they were living or what car they were driving, and their trail had gone cold. How long would Bacon hang on before giving up?

Teddy felt some sympathy for the boy. He had outfitted hundreds of young agents over his decades with the Agency, sending them out to God knew where, to die or to return, often disillusioned with the work they were doing. A few came back excited, still wanting more. Bacon would be one of those, given Teddy’s experience of him.

Teddy had given a lot of thought as to whether to kill Todd. He would, if he had to, if the boy got too close, but if he had to, if Bacon simply disappeared, as Teddy was capable of making him do, then they might send out another agent, maybe more than one, and he would certainly have to move.

Teddy liked Santa Fe, and so did Lauren, and he didn’t want to move. If he could convince Todd Bacon they were gone, then maybe they could stay; maybe they could make a real home here. Teddy missed having a home. He was a nest builder, and he always assembled the twigs necessary to make that nest. His new safe would arrive today, so he could pack away his equipment and hunker down. He was looking forward to that. He wished he had some pictures to hang. They would have to look in on the galleries on Canyon Road.

TODD BACON ENDED HIS phone call to Holly Barker, his face red and hot. She was starting to think of him as an amateur; he could tell by the sound of her voice. He could hear the exasperation as she made more suggestions.

Now he was going to have to start cruising grocery stores and ladies’ shops, looking for Lauren Cade. It was the least effective thing he could do, he thought, but he couldn’t think of anything better.

He’d thought of checking out new hookups of electricity and telephones, but if Teddy had sublet a house, those things would already exist, so that was a time waster. What else did new people in town have to do for themselves besides utilities? He couldn’t think of anything.

Maybe Holly was right; maybe Lauren would want new clothes in a new town, and maybe she would go shopping for them. Maybe the Plaza was where he should waste his time looking for her.

Or maybe he should just spend the day in bed with the newspapers and half a bottle of bourbon. He would be just as effective that way, and he wouldn’t strain himself.

“Oh, what the fuck,” he said aloud, getting out of bed and heading for the shower.

Tip Hanks finished an afternoon of hitting with his driver and fairway woods on the practice range. He had a drink at the clubhouse bar, then drove home. He showered and put on a robe, then went into his study to check his e-mail.

He stuck his head into Dolly’s office. “Anything going on?”

“A couple of phone messages,” she replied. “They’re next to your computer. How was your practice session?”

“Just great. My swing is right where it should be. I’m looking forward to this weekend.” He had a tournament in San Diego.

“Good news. You must be tired. Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure,” he said. “I’m just going to check my e-mail.”

She got up and went to the bar while he went to his computer. Nothing pressing: just one e-mail from his agent and one from his clothing sponsor, and he dealt with those.

She walked up behind him, set his drink near his computer mouse and began massaging his shoulders.

“God, that’s good,” he said, relaxing to her touch. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“From having it done to me, I guess,” she replied. She pulled his head back to nestle between her breasts and continued to rub his neck and shoulders.

“Mmmm, nice cushion,” he said, feeling for his drink and taking a pull at it. “You’re a woman of many talents.” He had enjoyed her cooking a while back, but he had kept his hands off her.

She spun him around and pulled his head back to her breasts, still rubbing his neck.

He was becoming aroused now. He kissed her on a breast, and she made a welcoming noise. He pushed her sweater up and unhooked her bra. Her nipples answered the call.

“You’re bad,” she breathed.

“You make me want to be bad,” he said.

She pushed him back in his chair and knelt in front of him. She was tall enough for him to reach her lips, and they kissed repeatedly.

His robe fell open, and she took him in her hand and stroked him. He was already fully erect, and she bent down and kissed his penis a few times. He pulled her head down, and she took him into her mouth. He was making all the right noises, then suddenly he came.

She continued what she was doing until he fell back, spent, then took him by the hand, picked up his drink and led him to his bed, pulling back the covers. “You need a nap,” she said, setting his drink on the bedside table.

“Take a nap with me,” he said.

“No, you need the rest,” she replied. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

She was lying on the sofa in the study a couple of hours later, when he came and knelt beside her. “Your turn,” he said, undoing her jeans and pulling them off.

She lay back and enjoyed herself. He was really good at this, she thought-not quite as good as Ellie, but very good. Where had Ellie gone? Why hadn’t she said good-bye?

VITTORIO AND CUPIE had assumed their positions near Eagle’s house, waiting for him to arrive home from work, when Cupie came on the radio. “Mercedes station wagon heading up the hill. You read?”

“I read you,” Vittorio said. “I’m watching for it.”

The station wagon appeared, driving slowly up the road, then it slowed to a crawl in front of Eagle’s house, as if the driver wanted to get a good look at it, then continued up the road and out of sight.

“Whoever that was took a good look at the house,” Vittorio said into the radio. “I couldn’t see who was driving; the car’s roof was in the way.”

“That’s not the sort of car a hit man would drive,” Cupie said. “He’d be in a rental if he was from out of town.”

“Agreed,” Vittorio said. He sat for a few minutes, thinking that it was good to have Cupie around. He spent too many of his days alone, and it was nice to have somebody to bitch at.

He jerked back to reality as the station wagon reappeared, headed down the hill. Vittorio still couldn’t see the driver. He picked up the radio. “The Mercedes is headed back down the hill. See if you can get a look at the driver.”

“Here it comes,” Cupie said. “Naw, the setting sun is reflecting in the windshield; can’t see past that. He’s gone. Did he check out the house again?”

“He didn’t seem to slow down, but he was driving slowly,” Vittorio replied.

“Hey, here comes Eagle,” Cupie said.

“I’ve got him,” Vittorio replied as Eagle’s car appeared down the road. The black Mercedes pulled into the driveway, and Eagle got out, looked around, then went into the house. He didn’t seem to use the garage much. “Okay,” Vittorio said into the radio, “he’s in the house. I’ll pick you up shortly.”

He got the car and drove down to where Cupie waited.

“Let’s stop at the Tesuque Market and get a drink and some dinner,” Cupie said.

“Good idea,” Vittorio replied. The Tesuque Market was a grocery, restaurant and bar that did a good business from the local residents and some tourists, too. “Look,” Vittorio said, pointing at the cars parked outside. The Mercedes station wagon was among them.