Stuart Woods: Blood Orchid

“Sure.”

“Don’t let anybody see you.”

“Okay, I’ll be careful. You want me to mention this to Ed?”

“No, keep it to yourself.”

“All right.” He got into his Range Rover and drove away.

Her cellphone vibrated in her pocket, and she answered it.

“Hi, it’s Grant. You okay?”

“Yep.”

“I pulled some prints off your glass-”

“You mean you have a Junior-G-Man fingerprint kit with you at all times?”

“Sort of. Now listen.”

“I’m listening.”

“They’re already working on it. We should have some answers tomorrow.”

“Have you talked to Harry today?”

“Yes, and there’s nothing new down there.”

“Well, there’s something new here,” Holly said. “Ed came by this morning and introduced me to a man who’s thinking of buying a retirement home here. His name is Willard Smith.”

“The guy from the GSA?”

“How many Willard Smiths can there be?”

“I’d better get back to Harry with that.”

“Are you sure you should, Grant? I mean, in light of our conversation last night?”

“It’s something Harry ought to know,” Grant said.

“It’s something Harry may already know,” Holly replied. “If he’s dirty.”

“I’m going to have to think about that. The guy you met may not be the GSA Willard Smith, you know.”

“Call the GSA and ask for Smith,” Holly said. “I’m betting that he’s not at work today.”

“All right, I’ll do that.”

“Get back to me?”

“Sure.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” Holly punched off and went back into the house. Daisy was waiting, her leash in her mouth.

“Okay, baby,” Holly said. “Let’s take a walk.”

They started out from the house, and Holly had an idea. The golf course outside her door was empty, so she cut across it, letting Daisy off her leash. The happy dog ran in big circles, enjoying the open space, just as she did on the beach. Holly looked around and still saw nobody, except a man in the distance mowing a green.

She reached the other side of the golf course and clipped the leash onto Daisy’s collar again, as they walked along the road, heading north. Her recollection was that the driveway to the vault building was around a curve ahead of her, about a quarter of a mile along. Then she heard an airplane overhead.

She looked up to see a twin-engine turboprop circling to land at the Blood Orchid airfield. It wasn’t Ed Shine’s King Air; it looked more like a Piper Cheyenne. Holly crossed the road and walked into the woods far enough that she couldn’t readily be seen from the road. Then she sat down with her back against a tree and waited, with Daisy lying beside her.

Nearly half an hour passed, and Holly saw a Blood Orchid van drive past. She and Daisy ran back to the road and just far enough to see around the big curve in the road.

The van had stopped, and a man got out of the passenger seat and moved aside the sawhorse blocking the drive. The van drove in, the sawhorse was replaced, and the van disappeared down the driveway.

Holly went back into the woods. “Come on, Daisy,” she said, “we’re going to do a little spying.”

Holly walked through the woods with Daisy, keeping roughly parallel to the road, toward where she remembered the building to be. There had been two floors of administrative offices, she recalled, then the basement with vaults.

She saw the building through the trees and brush sooner than she had expected, and she realized that she was approaching it from the rear. She began to work her way to her left, in order to circle the building and see what was happening on the front side. Noise became a factor now, and she made her way slowly through the woods, keeping Daisy on a short leash and being as quiet as possible. Soon, she could hear voices.

There wasn’t much in the way of conversation, just grunts and a word or two here and there about work. Holly turned more to her left, lest she come upon them too quickly and be spotted.

Finally, she moved past a corner of the building and could see what was taking place out front. Two men were unloading the van and moving the contents inside the building. This time there were no boxes, but an odd collection of old briefcases, suitcases, and trunks, all strapped shut with duct tape. Some could be carried by one man, others required a hand truck.

The unloading was going slowly, and this was what was causing what little conversation there was, mostly complaining. Holly wanted to see inside the front doors of the building, so she continued to work her way to the north, giving the parking area a wide berth. Once she had covered some ground, she could see three cars parked in the lot, all of which had been screened from her view by the van. She could see through the open doors of the building, too.

Not that there was much to see. The two men were loading the cases and trunks into an elevator. Then one of the men got on with them and pressed a button. The doors closed, and the lights above indicated the car was going to the basement. That left one man dealing with the remaining cargo.

Then Holly saw something that interested her. Half a dozen cases had been unloaded from the van and were waiting to be carried inside. The one man left was struggling with a footlocker-sized trunk that seemed to be very heavy, and next to the rear of the van sat a good-sized plastic briefcase-like the others, taped shut.

Holly turned to Daisy. “Down, Daisy,” she said, and the dog lay down. She dropped the leash on the ground and, holding up a hand, said firmly, “Stay. Stay, Daisy.”

The dog looked at her and waited for a further signal.

Holly turned back toward the van; five yards of woods and twenty yards of parking lot separated her from it. The man was still struggling with the footlocker-the hand truck must be in the elevator, she reckoned, and the other man would be unloading the elevator in the basement. She worked her way left, until the van was between her and the second man, then she moved as silently as she could through the brush and ran for the van.

Reaching it, she stood beside the left rear wheel of the vehicle so her feet would be hidden from anyone on the other side who happened to look under it. She could hear the man dragging the trunk into the building. She darted her head out a foot, then back again. Through the window of the rear door, she caught a glimpse of the building’s doorway, and the man could no longer be seen.

She got down on her knees and peeked again; he was still inside the building. Quickly, she crawled under the open van door and grabbed the briefcase. As she did, she could hear footsteps from inside the building, and they were coming toward her. The man had taken his burden inside and was returning for more. Holly flung herself and the briefcase back under the door and behind the van.

She sat by the rear wheel, hugging the briefcase and pulling her knees up as far as they would go. She felt the van move as the man went inside for more cases. Now was her best chance. She got to her feet and ran for the woods, lugging the briefcase, which was surprisingly heavy.

“Hey!” a man’s voice yelled.

Holly dropped to the ground, holding out her hand, signaling Daisy to stay.

“Hey, give me a hand with this trunk, will you?” the man called again.

“Just a minute,” came the reply.

“What’s the holdup?”

“I thought I had another piece here, but I can’t find it.”

“What do you mean, you can’t find it?” The first man’s voice was louder now; he was coming out of the building.

“It was right here at the rear of the van, a briefcase. I know it was here.”

Holly inched her way toward Daisy, who waited four or five yards from her. Then she heard a very unwelcome noise-an electronic chime. Her cellphone was letting her know that its battery was low. She dug into her pocket and got it free just in time for it to chime again before she could hit the off switch.