Stuart Woods - Hothouse Orchid

That went well, he thought, and he wondered how a woman on an Agency salary could afford a car that cost around a hundred thousand dollars. Maybe he would look into that.

Holly drove home, let Daisy out onto the beach and put her groceries away. She showered and changed, then went downstairs to watch the news before Josh came.

Teddy put his groceries away and started a roast chicken. Then he went to his computer and found a meandering route through several cities, until he found an idle machine in San Diego, California. From there he logged on to the Agency mainframe, then navigated to personnel, where he opened Holly Barker’s file.

He read through the file slowly, from Lance Cabot’s initial letter of recommendation for her hiring, through her training at the Farm, where she had done exceptionally well in every category and had run up the highest pistol score in the history of the Agency. He made a note not to put himself in a position, as he once had, where she might have an opportunity to shoot at him. He felt lucky to have gotten away with the leg wound.

There had been a break in her training at the Farm, when she had been transferred to special duty in New York, under Cabot. He was clearly her rabbi at the Agency, and she had chosen him well, if, indeed, she had done the choosing. This was the period when Teddy had met her at the Metropolitan Opera, when he was disguised as an elderly Jewish gentleman, retired from the garment trade. A short time later, she had come uncomfortably close to him again, but he had managed to escape from the city.

He noted that she had recently been promoted to assistant deputy director, again under the aegis of Lance Cabot, and that she had, accordingly, received a substantial raise. Still, her Agency income didn’t seem to support the purchase of an expensive German SUV with a 500-hp turbocharged engine.

He went to her original application and read, in fairly telegraphic form, of her progress through her army career and her hiring as chief of police in Orchid Beach. Then he came to her financial disclosure form.

“Ahhhh,” he said aloud to himself. The woman had a substantial estate, amounting to nearly three million dollars, nearly all of it inherited from her fiancé, who had been killed as an innocent bystander in a bank robbery the day before her wedding. Teddy felt sorry that she had experienced such pain, but her personal wealth accounted for the ownership of the Cayenne as well as for her Orchid Beach house.

Teddy logged off the mainframe and closed his computer. What an interesting woman she was, he thought. It was a pity that he couldn’t know her better. Still, from what he had just read, he knew more about her than most people.

He went back into the kitchen, checked on the roasting chicken, and began preparing the rest of their dinner.

He couldn’t do what he wanted to tonight, because Lauren would be there. Jim Bruno would have to wait a little.

Lance Cabot was at his desk in the early morning when there was a rap at his door. His secretary was not in yet, and no one was screening his visitors. “Come in,” he said.

The door opened slightly and the disheveled head of the computer geek who had visited him before appeared. “Got a second?”

“What is it?” Lance asked, not a little annoyed. He couldn’t remember the kid’s name, but he thought he had solved his problem.

“Our visitor returned to the mainframe early last evening,” he said, “this time via a chain of computers around the country ending in San Diego.”

“And?”

“And he got into Holly Barker’s personnel records.”

This stopped Lance in his tracks. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, giving himself time to think.

“Absolutely. I still haven’t been able to track him back to a specific computer, but I think he may be in the state of Florida.”

“What was it he was looking for last time?”

“Information on the background of a retired army colonel, James Bruno. Also, he accessed his driver’s license record in Florida.”

“Can you set some sort of trap for him?”

“I already have; when I came in this morning I had an alert from the mainframe waiting on my work station.”

“But you can’t track him to a specific computer?”

“That’s hard. The guy-or girl-is very smart. If he continued to use the same computer chain, that would make it a lot easier, but both times I discovered him he had created a new chain. It’s like he’s making big geographical leaps around the country every time he logs on.”

“And to stop him we’d have to change all the log-on codes?”

“Right. And circulate the new codes to every authorized Agency employee around the world, in a highly secure manner.”

“And that’s a big job.”

“It is, and every time we do something like that we run the risk of opening new security breaches, of having the codes fall into the hands of some hacker lurking out there.”

“When was the last time the codes were changed?”

“Six years ago. We had teething problems, of course, but the mainframe has remained secure since we worked those out. If we issue new codes, we’ll have to start all over again.”

Shit, Lance thought. He stared at the desk in front of him.

“If I could make a suggestion?” the kid said.

“Go ahead.”

“This guy has not shown any evil intent with these intrusions; he’s just looking for information. It might make sense to let him continue and hope that he’ll make a mistake that will make it easier to nail him. I’ve got the alert on the mainframe, and if he makes a more threatening move, then we can act on a code change.”

Lance was pleased to have a way out of this mess. “All right, do that, but every time he logs on I want to know what he’s looking at.”

“I’ll see that you do,” the kid said. He gave a little wave and left, closing the door behind him.

Lance was still thinking, though. This intruder had made two visits to the mainframe, both looking for information about Holly, and he didn’t like that. Of course, it could be somebody from Holly’s past: an old lover, maybe, who had worked at the Agency and still harbored a crush on her. But he kept returning to another possibility: Teddy Fay.

Lance had really begun to believe the man was dead; certainly that’s what he had repeatedly told the director, though she still seemed skeptical. To be frank with himself, he didn’t care if Teddy was alive and well as long as he didn’t call attention to himself and embarrass everybody, particularly himself but up to and including the director and her husband, President Will Lee.

Lance turned to his phone and pressed a speed-dial number, then he stared at the screen.

Holly was jarred awake by the ringing phone. She rolled over and looked at the bedside clock: seven fifteen. Then she realized the television screen at the foot of her bed had come alive, and Lance was staring at her-and at Josh, who had not yet woken up.

“Call me back on your secure line,” Lance said, “as soon as you can be alone.”

Josh woke up. “Huh?”

“It’s nothing. Go back to sleep,” Holly said. She grabbed the remote and switched off the TV.

“I heard a man’s voice,” Josh said.

“No, you didn’t,” Holly replied, placing a hand on his forehead and pushing down. “Go back to sleep.”

She got out of bed, threw on a shirt and jeans and went downstairs to her Agency cubbyhole. She tapped in the code that opened the door, then went inside, closed the door behind her and logged on to her computer. A few keystrokes later, she had Lance on the screen.

“I’m here,” she said.

“Sorry to wake you; something odd has come up.”

“Go ahead.”