Stuart Woods - Iron Orchid

Irene wouldn’t rat him out; of that he was certain. But what if they were onto her and had created this situation to entrap him? He worried about it all the way to Virginia.

He got to the motel at midnight and drove past it at moderate speed, looking for signs of a setup. Finally, he turned around and drove back, parking in the lot of the diner next door. He went in and ordered some scrambled eggs and coffee, constantly checking the arrivals and departures in the parking lot. Just before midnight, he saw Irene’s car turn in and park. She got out and hurried to the motel office.

He called her cell phone.

“Yes?”

“Are you in the clear?”

“Yes, I’m certain of it. I made sure there was no tail. There’s not much traffic around here this time of night.”

“No vans or RVs in sight?” he asked getting up from the table while continuing to talk. He put a twenty-dollar bill on the table and left.

“There’s an RV in the restaurant side of the lot,” she said.

“That one’s all right; I checked it out. What’s your room number?”

“Ten, all the way at the end.”

He kept walking. “Leave the door ajar.”

“All right.”

He stepped up to the door and opened it.

“Jesus!” she said, pocketing her phone. “You scared me; I didn’t expect you so quickly.”

“I couldn’t wait,” he said, putting his arms around her waist.

“I wanted to be naked and in bed when you walked in,” she said.

“We can fix that right now.” In a moment they were making love.

When they had finished, Teddy had relaxed a little. If they were out there, they wouldn’t have waited this long to break in. “Where’s the disk?” he asked.

“In my handbag, on the desk,” she said.

Teddy retrieved the disk. “I’ve got to get going,” he said, sitting on the side of the bed and kissing her. “I’d love to stay and do it all again, but I really have to go and get to work on this disk.”

“I understand; it’s all right.”

“It’s better if I go first.”

She kissed him again. “You go ahead. Call me when you can.”

Teddy got into his clothes, slipped the disk into his jacket pocket, kissed her and checked outside. All quiet. He stepped out the door and walked slowly toward the parking lot, checking for trouble. His was the only vehicle in the restaurant’s lot; they had closed, and it was dark around the RV. His heart pounding, he got into the RV, started it and drove off. Nobody followed. After a few minutes, he settled down and drove on toward New York.

He had to stop these all nighters; they were wearing. And he had the opera the following evening.

HOLLY STOOD OUTSIDE the Metropolitan Opera House at Lincoln Center and watched the flow of people as they arrived for the performance. It was cold, and she snugged her muffler tighter and turned up her coat collar.

She had seen two or three men alone who might have fit the description of Teddy Fay, but they had all met women and had gone in as couples. Ty was over at the New York City Opera, doing the same thing, and she wondered if this was a productive use of their time.

She spotted another candidate for Teddy, a man in a tuxedo who appeared and began loitering around the door, just as she was doing. Too athletic-looking, she decided finally. Probably around fifty.

“Excuse me,” a man’s voice said from behind her.

Holly turned to find an elderly gentleman standing there, and she sized him up quickly. Mid-seventies, slim, carrying an aluminum cane and wearing an obvious toupee. Too old.

“Yes?” she asked.

“You’ve been standing here for some time, and I wondered if you were looking for a ticket.” Reedy voice, New York accent. “I have an extra ticket, and I’d be pleased if you’d join me as my guest.”

Why not? Holly thought. Might as well have a look around inside. “Why thank you; that would be very nice.”

He beamed. “Good! Do you mind if I take your arm? I’m a little lame.”

“Please do,” she said.

He took her arm, and they walked slowly into the building. “I had a knee replacement four months ago, and it’s taking hell’s own time to get over it,” he said.

“I’m sorry.”

“I swear, if my doctor had told me about the recovery, I don’t think I’d have done it. I couldn’t play tennis anymore, you see. By the way, my name is Hyman Baum.”

“I’m Holly Barker.”

They made their way into the huge auditorium, and Holly was delighted to find their seats in row H, on the aisle. “What wonderful seats,” she said.

“Oh, yes, it took me a long time to get them. I’ve been coming to the Met since the late sixties; I started in the second balcony, and each year I improved my seats a little. I’ve had these for four years,” he said, “every Friday night.”

“You’re a lucky man, Mr. Baum.”

“Please call me Hy,” he said. “Everybody does.”

They settled into their seats and put their coats in their laps.

“I never check my coat,” Hy said. “Takes too long to get it back.”

Holly was checking everyone within sight for someone who fit Teddy’s description.

“What sort of work do you do, Holly?”

“I’m sort of retired,” Holly said. “I was widowed a couple of years ago, and I sold my little shop and decided to travel.”

“Is that what brings you to New York?”

“Yes.”

“Where are you staying?”

“With friends. What do you do, Hy?”

“I’m retired from the dress business. My father had the business before me, and now my son is running it.”

The lights dimmed, and the curtain came up. La Boheme was beginning. In moments, Holly was entranced.

THE FIRST ACT WAS ENDING when Holly’s cell phone began vibrating. As the curtain came down she turned to Hy. “I’ve got to run ”to the ladies‘,“ she said, and she raced up the aisle ahead of the crowd.

She stood in a quiet corner of the lobby and opened the phone. “Yes?”

“It’s Ty, where are you?”

“I’m inside the Met.”

“You bought a ticket?”

“I got an invitation.”

“You got picked up?”

“Sort of. An elderly gentleman.”

“Is it Teddy?”

“I don’t think so,” she said drily. “Too old, too frail. He’s had a knee replacement. He’s wearing an obvious toupee, and I don’t think Teddy would be obvious. How did you do?”

“Nothing,” he said. “You want to get something to eat?”

“No, I’m enjoying the opera; I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, good night.”

“Good night.” She closed the phone, found the ladies’ room, then returned to her seat.

THE OPERA ENDED, and Holly was in tears. She hadn’t expected this. “Had you seen La Boheme before?” Hy asked, as they made their way up the aisle.

“No, I haven’t been to the opera before.”

“Were you waiting for someone?” he asked.

“Yes, a girlfriend; we were going to try to get last-minute seats, but she didn’t show, and you made me a better offer.”

“How about some dinner?” he asked.

“If you’ll forgive me, I’m pretty tired. I think I’d better get home.”

“Can I drop you?” They were outside now.

“No, it’s not far; I’ll walk.” That should ditch him, with his knee. “Thank you so much for the seat. I loved the opera, and I appreciate it very much.”

“Perhaps again next Friday night?”

“I’m afraid I’ll be in London by then.” He was sweet, but boring and way too old for her.

“Then I wish you a happy trip.”

“Thank you, goodbye.”

He turned and made his way down the steps toward the street, and she used the moment to check out the departing crowd. No Teddy.