Stuart Woods: Santa Fe Edge

“That doesn’t mean I’m connected to anything.”

“It means that Barbara is connected to Bart, and you made the connection,” Santiago said, careful to sound reasonable, to keep accusation out of his voice. “And you’re right, there’s nothing wrong with introducing two people. You and Bart dropped her off at Yuma International, didn’t you? I’m just trying to get the sequence of events established.”

“Well, yes, and I didn’t see her for a couple of weeks after that.”

“She asked you how to get in touch with Bart, didn’t she?” Santiago asked. “I mean, you were her only connection to him, weren’t you? Seems logical that she would ask you for his number.”

“She may have,” Long replied, wrinkling his brow as if trying to remember.

“So, here’s how it went after that, Mr. Long,” Santiago said. “She hired Bart to kill Ed Eagle, and he did his best, but Eagle survived the attack. Barbara killed him so he couldn’t connect her to the attempt.”

“Look here,” Long said. “Do I need a lawyer?”

“You’re certainly entitled to a lawyer, Mr. Long. I’d be happy to explain your rights in detail, if you wish. Whether you need a lawyer is another matter.”

“I have a law degree,” Long said, pulling himself upright in his chair. “I don’t need to have my rights explained to me.”

“Duly noted,” Santiago said, scribbling something in his notebook. “Do you need a lawyer, Mr. Long?”

Long stared at him. The booze was obviously taking effect now, and his thinking must be affected.

“Mr. Long,” Santiago said gently, “I’m not after you. I know you didn’t kill Bart Cross, just as I know that Barbara did. What you have to decide now is how much you want your future to be affected by what Barbara has done. Surely you know that this is not the first time she has hired a killer. There was a fellow named Jack Cato, who also worked for you from time to time as a stuntman. She hired him to kill a lawyer in Palo Alto, remember?”

“I don’t know anything about that,” Long said emphatically.

“Mr. Long,” Santiago said slowly. “If you cooperate with my investigation now, answer questions freely and agree to repeat your answers in court, I don’t see why you should be placed in jeopardy for what Barbara has done. You’re not a target of my investigation now, but from here on in, the story could change, depending on your truthfulness. Do you understand?”

Long stared into his drink. “I think I want a lawyer,” he said.

“If you make that a formal request, then this questioning will end right here,” Santiago said, “but I need to explain to you that a lawyer will instruct you not to answer any other questions about your relationship to Barbara and her decision to kill Bart. He will advise you to stand on your rights under the Fifth Amendment of the United States Constitution, but frankly, that would be a very big mistake. Don’t you think so, Jeff?”

Borden took his cue and leaned forward in his chair. “I should tell you, Mr. Long, that in Mexico, you may not have the same rights as you do in the United States. We now know that Barbara Eagle escaped from a Mexican prison and met you in Acapulco -perhaps you even drove her there-and that you assisted her in entering the United States.”

“She has a passport. She had a right to enter the country.”

“But the Mexicans are going to say that you abetted her escape from prison and in fleeing the country. And on this side of the border, well, Homeland Security will have to get involved, and frankly, I don’t think you’re going to have time to produce movies while you’re trying to stay out of prison in two countries.”

Long was breathing harder now.

“I should tell you, too, that the Mexican Ministry of Justice has requested the extradition of Barbara Eagle to Mexico, and the attorney general of the United States has agreed to extradite her, and a federal judge has issued a warrant for her arrest.”

Long drained his glass and set it down on a table next to him. “That woman is the best piece of ass I have ever had in my life,” he said, “but I am not going to go to prison for her.”

“You’ve made the right decision, Mr. Long,” Santiago said. He removed a pocket recorder from his jacket pocket, pressed a button and set it down on the coffee table in front of Long. “Now, let’s start again.”

Todd Bacon was watching a football game on television when the phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Dolly. How are you?”

“I’m good, Dolly. I’ve been waiting to hear from you.”

“I was trying to reach Ellie, but she didn’t answer her cell phone right away. When I finally got her, she was in San Francisco, so she can’t join us.”

“That’s too bad,” Todd said, with genuine regret.

“Can you make do with just me?”

“You bet I can,” he replied with feeling.

“Tell you what, why don’t you come out here to the house?”

“Okay. Give me directions.”

She told him how to get to Las Campanas and to the house.

“Take the second drive to the guesthouse,” she said. “That way I won’t have to worry about my boss coming home and rousting us.”

“Sounds good. Can I bring anything?”

“Nope. Right now is good. See you soon?”

“I’m on my way,” Todd said, switching off his TV.

Todd had been holed up in his room for a day and a half, hoping Holly Barker and Lance Cabot would think he was working. His plan now was to fuck Dolly’s brains out, then pack up tomorrow morning and leave, maybe try Sedona, in Arizona. Teddy could be there just as well as anyplace else.

He got to the garage and drove out.

AT HOME, Teddy’s little GPS unit made a chiming noise, and he picked it up. Todd’s car was on the move. Teddy had begun to think he had locked himself in his room and committed suicide.

“I’ve got to go out for a while,” he called to Lauren, who was starting dinner. “I’ll call you when I’m on the way home.”

“Okay,” she called back. “Don’t be too late, or I’ll be drunk!”

“I’ll catch up,” he said, laughing. He unplugged the GPS from its charger and got into the Tahoe. Todd’s car was moving north toward the road to Espanola, but it turned west, then north again. Teddy followed, not having to see the Toyota, just following the dot.

TODD FOLLOWED the directions to the golfer’s house, then passed the driveway and made the next turn. He stopped at the small guesthouse and rapped on the door.

Dolly came to the door naked, grabbed him by the belt and pulled him into the house, towing him toward the bedroom. She stripped him and pulled him into bed with her. “I want you inside me,” she said, helping him perform that task.

TEDDY MADE HIS way north, passing the sign for Las Campanas, turned into a driveway and stopped. He could see the large house ahead of him, and there were no cars parked out front. He backed up and drove a little farther down the road until he saw another dirt track, then pulled over and left the car.

The sun was just sinking below the horizon as he approached the guesthouse, and lights came on, as if on a timer or a light sensor. He had a look through a window into the living room and saw no one, so he walked slowly around the house. No one in the kitchen, either, but then he came to a bedroom window and was transfixed momentarily by the sight of a young woman on top of Todd Bacon, riding him like a rodeo pony.

Teddy waited until he heard the noises of orgasm, then the woman got off Todd, went to the bathroom for a minute, then came out. He could hear her say, “Don’t you move. I’m not through with you yet, I’m just going to get a drink.” She exited the bedroom.