Stuart Woods - Santa Fe Edge

Once in the city she went first to the hospital and had a good look at it. There were two entrances, one for the emergency room and a main entrance. She parked outside and soaked it all in. As she sat there a uniformed policeman came through the door to the main entrance, buttoning his coat against the cold. He stood outside the door and lit a cigarette. He was no more than thirty yards from her, and she got a good, long look at him: maybe fifty, once muscular and athletic, now with a gut and jowls and a complexion that indicated a large and regular use of alcohol. She couldn’t read his name tag from where she sat, but she would remember that face and build.

She drove to her hotel, checked in and began going over things in her mind. She called the hospital on her cell phone.

“How may I direct your call?”

“This is Crystal Florists,” Barbara said. “We have a delivery. Is Mr. Ed Eagle still in room 304?”

“No, he’s in 106,” the operator said. “Shall I connect you?”

“No, thanks. I don’t need to speak to him.”

“Just deliver your flowers to the ground-floor nurses’ station,” the operator said. “One of the nurses will see that the patient gets them.”

“Thanks. Good night,” Barbara said. She hung up. A good first step.

TIP HANKS LEFT FOR his golf tournament and would be gone for five days, and Dolly, having become accustomed to regular sex, got out of the house. She drove up Canyon Road to Geronimo, where she had met with Ellie Keeler, and took a seat at the bar. “A margarita, please, straight up with salt,” she said to the bartender. Half a minute later the drink materialized, and she closed her eyes and took her first, very welcome, sip. “Aaaaah,” she breathed.

“I’m going to feel exactly the same way in just a minute,” a male voice said beside her. “One for me, too,” he said to the bartender, and it was done.

Dolly turned her head and got a first look at her companion in tequila: tall, athletic-looking, sandy hair, a little on the short side, early thirties.

“Aaaaah,” he said, having taken his first sip.

Dolly laughed. “What did your day hold that made you need a drink?”

“Sunset,” Todd responded. “I’m on vacation. I don’t need a better excuse.”

“What are you on vacation from?” she asked.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m a CIA agent?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Nope.”

“Then don’t ask.” He smiled and stuck out a hand. “I’m Todd Bacon.”

She took the hand, which was large and warm. “I’m Dolly Parks. Where are you on vacation from?”

He thought about that. “I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“You don’t know where you’re from?”

“Well, until very recently I lived in Panama, but I was recalled, and as yet, I’m unassigned.”

“Where would you like to be reassigned?”

“Here, I think. Santa Fe is a wonderful place.”

“Then why don’t you get your company to transfer you here?”

“I’m afraid my company doesn’t do business here.”

“Then change jobs.”

“I’m afraid there is very little demand for ex-CIA agents in Santa Fe.”

“That’s your story, and you’re sticking to it, huh?”

“That’s my story. Where do you hail from?”

“Oh, I’m a midwesterner, but I’ve lived in Santa Fe for a few months now.”

“Think you’ll make it permanent?”

“As wonderful as it is, I doubt it. I’m not very good at putting down roots.”

“That’s funny,” he said. “Neither am I.”

“Think you’ll ever improve?” she asked.

“Probably not,” he replied. “It wouldn’t do my career any good.”

“How’s your career going?”

“Extremely well,” he said. “Even better than I’d hoped. What do you do?”

“Oh, I’m a sort of general, all-around factotum for a golf pro.”

“Which one?”

“Tip Hanks.”

“Oh, sure. I see him play on TV now and then. He lives in Santa Fe?”

“He does, but he left today to play this weekend in California.”

“And left you all alone?”

“Sad, isn’t it?”

“Then I think you should have dinner with me,” Todd said.

A woman’s voice came from behind him. “Well, hello, Dolly, to coin a phrase.”

Todd and Dolly both turned to look. Todd saw a very attractive woman, older, maybe early forties.

“Ellie!” Dolly said. “Where have you been?”

“I had to go back to San Francisco to take care of some business,” Barbara replied. “Can I buy you two a drink?”

“Hi, I’m Todd,” he said, extending a hand. “I had just asked Dolly to join me for dinner. Why don’t you join us both?”

“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.

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.”