Stuart Woods - Hothouse Orchid

“Don’t beat yourself up, Holly; it just didn’t work out.”

“Have you got anything else on Bruno?”

“Not a thing, nor on anyone else, either.”

“Lauren, you remember the printout of those clippings and the juvenile record on Bruno I gave you?”

“Sure, I’ve still got them.”

“Please shred them. They came from an Agency computer, and I don’t want anyone else to see them. It’s not like they’re evidence; they’re just background for you and Hurd.”

“Sure, I’ll do that right away.”

“Something else, Lauren: has anyone else shown you anything that might have come from a CIA computer file?”

“No, in fact, no one has shown me anything from any computer file, except you.”

“If anyone shows you anything that you think might come from an Agency file, will you call me immediately, please?”

“Sure. What’s this about, Holly?”

“Someone is logging on to the Agency’s computer system and extracting material on Bruno and me.”

“Together or separately?”

“Both, and I’ve got to put a stop to that if I can figure out who’s doing it.”

“Doesn’t the Agency have a lot of security stuff you’d have to go through to get into a computer?”

“Yes, a lot.”

“Well, I don’t think anyone I know would have that kind of expertise,” Lauren said. “Certainly not anyone connected with the state police.”

“That’s what I thought; I’m just alerting you to the possibility.”

“I’ll keep an ear to the ground, sure.”

“Thanks, Lauren.”

“Say, you’re seeing that doctor at the hospital, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Josh Harmon.”

“I’ve got a new boyfriend, too, and he’s quite a cook. Why don’t the four of us have dinner together sometime soon?”

“That sounds like fun, Lauren. Let me know where and when.”

“I’ll check with Jack and let you know.”

“Bye-bye, then.”

Lauren found Holly’s computer files and shredded them, then straightened her desk, locked it and headed for Teddy’s.

Teddy had a rib roast in the oven when Lauren arrived. He fixed them a drink, and they relaxed in the living room.

“Good day today?” he asked.

“No. We’re back to square one after the episode with the tire.”

“No suspects other than Bruno?”

“Not a one. I know he’s doing this, but he’s been very, very careful not to leave any usable evidence. I wish the man had a conscience; he’d blow his own brains out.”

Teddy laughed. “I wouldn’t count on that.”

“Oh, Jack, I have this friend-well, acquaintance-named Holly Barker, who’s in town for a while, and she’s seeing a doctor in the emergency room at the hospital. Why don’t we invite the two of them over for dinner one night soon?”

Teddy drew in a quick breath. “I’m not sure I want to share you with anybody just yet.”

She dug him in the ribs. “Oh, come on. It’ll do us both good to socialize a little.”

“All right,” Teddy said. “When do you want to do it?”

“How about this weekend? Saturday? I’ll help in the kitchen.”

“That’s fine with me,” Teddy said, his mind racing.

“Oh, good,” she said, kissing him. “Holly’s a great girl. I knew her in the army, then she was chief of police here, and now she does something with the CIA.”

“What on earth is she doing here?”

“She’s just taking her vacation; she has a house here, from when she was chief.”

“And her boyfriend?”

“His name is Josh Harmon, he’s a doctor and that’s about all I know about him.”

“Okay.” Teddy took a deep breath. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Shoot.”

“I think this relationship is going really well. How about you?”

“Really well,” she said, kissing him.

“Something you said awhile back stuck in my mind: you said you hated the hot summers in Florida, that you’d like to live somewhere with a more even climate?”

“Did I?”

“Yes. Were you serious about that?”

“Well, it’s not like I was contemplating moving.”

“Let me tell you about two places I’ve thought about,” Teddy said. “One is Santa Fe, New Mexico. Have you ever been there?”

“No, but I’ve heard good things about it.”

“It has a warm summer but no humidity; it’s seven thousand feet up in the mountains; the winter is cold but, again, dry, so it’s not oppressive. It’s the kind of weather where you can sit in a hot tub and let the snowflakes fall on your face.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“The other place is San Diego, California, specifically La Jolla, a suburb, on the Pacific. The weather is delightful year-round: stays in the seventies, pretty much.”

“Again, it sounds wonderful. Are you thinking about moving, Jack?”

“Yes,” Teddy said, “but only if I can take you with me.”

She laughed. “That’s a pretty good offer. Are you serious or just kidding?”

“I’m not kidding, sweetheart.”

“Wow. And how are we going to afford this? Can I get a police job out West?”

“Only if you want to. I’m very well off, so you don’t have to work.”

“That’s very tempting,” she said.

“There’s no rush,” Teddy said. “Think about it, and if it’s what you want, well, when you get these murders cleared, we could just take off. I’ve got the airplane, remember?”

“I remember.” She gave him a long kiss. “You’ve a very, very nice man, Jack.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Teddy replied. He went back to the kitchen to take a look at his roast and start the vegetables. He had been contemplating telling her who he was but best not to lay too much on her all at once. Maybe best never to tell her who he once was before he was Jack Smithson.

Teddy woke up a little after two a.m. Lauren was breathing deeply beside him. She never woke up in the night. He rolled gently out of bed, got into the dark clothes he had left on a chair, took a small bag he had packed and left the house. He had parked farther away from the house than usual, so the sound of the cranking engine would not wake Lauren.

He drove at the speed limit, so as not to attract the attention of the local police, who were on the lookout for lone males driving late at night, and soon he was driving past the big church and into the quiet residential neighborhood where James Bruno lived. He drove slowly past the house, where he saw Bruno’s cruiser parked in the driveway and no lights on in the house.

Teddy switched off his headlights and circled the block, looking for lights in the neighboring houses. He saw none. He parked behind Bruno’s house, across the concrete drainage ditch and sat quietly in the car for a moment, looking for lights. None.

He popped the trunk and got out of the car. He retrieved the paper bag from the home store and the small bag he had packed, then crossed the drainage ditch, jumping across the narrow stream to keep his feet dry. He walked to the hedge at the rear of Bruno’s property and passed through one of the gaps where a plant had been allowed to die.

He stopped just inside the hedge and opened the paper bag. He withdrew the painter’s soft paper socks he had bought and put them on his feet, tucking his trousers into them, then he put on a paper hairnet and pulled on a pair of latex gloves. He took the.22-caliber semiautomatic pistol from the bag, racked the slide and secured the safety, then he tucked the weapon into his belt. He left his bag and the paper bag beside the hedge and walked slowly toward the house.