by Stuart Woods
“You won’t get an argument from me about that,” Teddy said.
“And I expect that’s all you’ll say about it.”
Teddy nodded.
“I sort of thought you might be on the run from somebody or something. Maybe robbed a bank.”
“We’re all on the run from something,” Teddy said. “But I’ve never robbed anybody.”
Sally put the dishes away. “Well, come on to bed, honey, and I’ll give you a real send-off.”
And she did.
Stone and Dino were having a late-afternoon drink on the terrace beside the pool when they heard the beeping of a car horn, and a moment later, Peter, Ben, and Hattie appeared, looking mildly disheveled. Hugs, kisses, and greetings were exchanged by all, and the kids took a seat.
The butler appeared. “May I get you all something to drink?”
The kids ordered beers.
“And what luggage do you wish unloaded?” the butler asked.
“Everything in the boot of the car,” Peter replied. “We’ll sort out which rooms later. Don’t even open the trailer. We’ll have to figure that out later.”
The butler disappeared and a steward materialized with the beers, which were quickly depleted and replaced.
“So,” said Stone, when they had quenched their initial thirst, “tell us about the trip.”
“It was fabulous,” Hattie said.
“It was long,” Ben interjected.
“It was very interesting,” Peter said.
His father knew from experience that Peter’s use of “very” was not hyperbole. The young man used the language precisely, not like a student. “Tell me about the interesting part,” Stone said.
Peter took another swig of the beer and burped. “We were followed,” he said.
“By what? Gangs of teenaged girls?”
“Well, of course, but more than that—by Russians.”
Stone and Dino both sat up straight.
Peter told them about the dot in the rearview mirror and their attempts to lose it. “Finally,” he said, “when we had the blowout and made it into this wide place in the road called Mesa Grande, the guy changing the tire made a discovery.” He rooted around in a pocket, came up with the device, and handed it to Stone, who handed it to Dino.
“GPS tracker,” Dino said. “That explains why you couldn’t lose them.”
“How did you find out they were Russian?” Stone asked.
“We left the car with this guy at the filling station, who had to call the Porsche dealer in Albuquerque to order a replacement tire, then we took our bags across the road to the motel and checked in. We had dinner at the diner at the motel and went to bed, and the next morning, when we were loading our luggage back in the car, the filling station guy showed me that, said he found it in the wheel well when he changed the tire.”
“Then why didn’t you see it when you put the temporary wheel on?”
“He said it was covered in mud and dust from the road. That would have made us miss it. Then he told us that two Russian guys showed up in a black Lincoln Navigator, and they had the GPS tracking equipment and an antenna on their dashboard. They were talking about us in Russian.”
“How would some pump jockey in a Podunk New Mexico town know what they were saying in Russian?” Stone asked. He was now getting concerned.
Peter shrugged. “I don’t know, but this guy was no ordinary pump jockey, he was very smart. He told me his name was Billy Burnett, asked me your name, and said he had heard of you from somewhere.”
“From where?” Stone asked.
“He didn’t say, he just seemed familiar with you.”
“Describe him.”
“Late forties, five-nine or -ten, one seventy, unlined face, nice smile, short, thick, dark hair going gray, fit-looking, wiry, sort of. He had what I guess you’d call a desert tan, though he wasn’t all leathery like people get who are exposed to that kind of sun for a long time.”
“Accent?”
“Sort of local, I guess. He sounded like the other people we talked to in New Mexico.”
“He was a local and he had a desert tan, but not for very long? And he knew me?”
“Not knew you, exactly, but knew who you were.”
“What did he say, exactly, about me?”
“I don’t remember exactly what he said, I just got the impression that he knew who you were, not necessarily that he’d met you.”
“Let’s get back to the Russians,” Dino said. “What happened to them?”
“That’s the weirdest thing,” Peter said. “Billy Burnett said he’d had a word with them, and they turned around and headed back in the direction they came from, and that we wouldn’t be bothered by them again.” Peter shrugged. “And we weren’t bothered by them again.”
“Okay, let’s summarize,” Stone said. “You’re tracked more than halfway across the country by two Russians in an SUV with pretty sophisticated equipment. They follow you to this Mesa Grande place, where they caught up with you, then this pump jockey has a word with them, and they turn around and go home. Is that it in a nutshell?”
“In a nutshell,” Peter said.
“Well, I don’t buy that,” Dino said.
“Neither do I,” Stone echoed.
“I’m not trying to sell it to you,” Peter said. “It’s just all I know.”
“That doesn’t make any sense at all,” Dino said.
“Did I say that it made sense?” Peter asked.
Stone spoke up. “I’d like to meet this guy, this . . .”
“Billy Burnett.”
“Well, maybe you’ll get to. He said he might get to L.A. and I gave him my cell number.”
“Peter,” Stone said, “if you hear from this guy, I want to know about it immediately.”
“Okay, Dad, but don’t get the idea that he’s some kind of threat to us. He was extremely helpful, didn’t overcharge us, helped us out with the Russians, and I’m glad I met him.”
“Nevertheless,” Stone said. He looked up to see Emma Tweed and an extremely tall, extremely beautiful young woman coming up the path from the old guesthouse. “Ah, here are our dinner guests,” he said. “Ben, you’re on deck.”
“Huh?” Ben asked.
“Look sharp, kid,” Dino said. “You’re about to meet somebody.”
“None of us looks very sharp right now,” Peter said. “May we be excused to shower and change?”
“Run before they get here,” Stone said, “and don’t be long.”
The kids fled before Emma and Tessa reached the terrace.
“Who was that?” Emma asked, as she pecked Stone on the cheek, “and why are they running?”
“That’s Peter, Ben, and Hattie, and they’ve been driving all day and requested permission to freshen up before meeting you two. This must be Tessa,” Stone said, offering a hand.
Emma made the introductions, and the two sat down and ordered drinks. “You all looked so intense as we approached,” she said. “What was that about?”
“A great mystery,” Stone replied.
Teddy, after exhausting himself with Sally, slept dreamlessly, then awoke early and began to think.
His first problem was to restore his cash liquidity, and he didn’t have a bank account to wire to from his Cayman Islands bank, where much of his tidy fortune resided. And he could hardly ask Tom Fields or Sally to receive it for him; that could get very messy.
He asked himself where he wanted to go next; that was easy: Los Angeles. But where else? He wanted to fly his new airplane and master the avionics before he flew into busy airspace, like L.A., and he wanted to see more of the West. He thought about it as he had breakfast and walked across the road to open the filling station, then he had it: Las Vegas. Easy come, easy go attitude about money, good hotels and restaurants, and p
oker. Teddy loved poker. He called one of the big splashy hotels and told the operator he wanted to speak to someone about opening an account.
“A charge account?” the woman asked.
“A cash account.” He waited until the phone was answered by a man with a New York accent.
“What can I do for you?”
“I’m coming to Vegas, I want to play some poker, and I don’t want to carry a lot of cash with me. Can I send it ahead of me?”
“Your name?”
“William J. Burnett.”
“Phone number?”
Teddy gave him his current cell number.
“How much would you like to send us?”
“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.” Teddy could hear the man smiling as he gave him a bank account number and a personal account ID.
“You’ll have it before two o’clock today,” Teddy said.
“How long will you be staying with us, Mr. Burnett?”
“Maybe four or five days.”
“Have you made a room reservation yet?”
“No, I wanted to see if you’d take my money first.”
The man laughed. “Mr. Burnett, the hotel would like to comp you a suite for your stay with us.”
“Thank you very much.”
“Don’t mention it. Can I arrange any, ah, entertainment for you while you’re here?”
“I’ll decide after I arrive.”
“Good. When will that be?”
“Two or three days?”
“And how will you arrive?”
“Private aircraft. Let’s say three PM, the day after tomorrow.”
“Excellent. We’ll have you met at Atlantic Aviation at that time. Your greeter will be Charmaine, and she will be at your disposal as a personal assistant during your stay with us, making any restaurant or entertainment arrangements you wish. If she’s not to your liking, call me and I’ll assign a replacement. My name is Pete Genaro, and I’m the hotel’s comptroller.”
“Thank you, Pete. See you in a couple of days.”
Teddy hung up, then sent a coded e-mail to his bank in the Caymans.
• • •
Tom Fields arrived about eleven o’clock, and by then Teddy had all his things in the airplane and had put the office in order.
Tom looked around. “Awful neat,” he said. “You going somewhere?”
“Time for me to move on, Tom. I’ve got a lot of country to see.”
Tom sighed. “I sort of felt it coming, I guess. I’d hoped I could persuade you to stay longer, Billy, maybe permanently.”
“That’s awful flattering, Tom, but I’ve been working too hard for too long, and I want to stretch my wings.”
“Bobby said you traded for a new airplane.”
“I had to—the guy practically landed on top of me.”
“Can I see it?”
“Sure, c’mon.” Teddy walked him out back and showed him the airplane and the cockpit.
“That’s a sweet pair of wings,” he said. “You got fuel?”
“I called the airport at Gallup and got them to send a truck over. All it took was money.”
“That’s usually all it takes,” Tom replied.
They said their goodbyes, and Teddy got in and walked himself through the startup checklist. The airplane started immediately with that turbine whine that Teddy liked so much. He worked slowly through the taxi and takeoff checklists, and when he was ready, he rolled onto the dirt strip and eased the throttle forward. The airplane pressed him back into his seat and got off the ground sooner than he would have believed possible. He set an altitude, turned on the autopilot, and tapped the identifier for Sedona, Arizona, into the flight computer, then he sat back and let the airplane do its work.
• • •
Teddy spent the night in Sedona, enjoying the town and a good restaurant, then he took off for Vegas, touching down a minute before three PM. As he taxied up to the FBO, Atlantic Aviation, a Rolls-Royce pulled out to the ramp, and when he shut the engine down it glided to a stop at the airplane’s door. As he stepped down, a petite, very blonde young woman in a very tight business suit and very high heels got out of the car and offered her hand.
“I’m Charmaine, Mr. Burnett,” she said, “and I’m here to make your stay in Las Vegas as pleasurable as possible.”
“It’s Billy,” he said, shaking her hand, then he handed his leather duffel to the chauffeur, who introduced himself as James, and followed Charmaine into the rear seat. The door closed with an impressive thunk, and cool air enveloped him.
Charmaine handed him a champagne flute and filled it from a bottle of Dom Pérignon, which was in an ice bucket built into the car. “What’s your pleasure, Billy?”
“Well,” Teddy said, “it occurs to me that if I’m going to drive around in a Rolls-Royce with a beautiful woman, I need some new clothes.”
“What are your tastes?”
“Traditional.”
“We have a very handsome Ralph Lauren store on our property.”
“Mr. Lauren sounds just perfect.”
The Rolls floated away, and Teddy sank into the soft seat and sipped Dom Pérignon.
Charmaine took charge at the Ralph Lauren store, picking out suits and jackets for him to try. Since Teddy was a perfect 42 Regular in the Lauren cut, alterations were limited to hemming the trousers, and Charmaine pressed them for a quick delivery.
• • •
Four hours later, Teddy’s masseuse finished her work, and he showered away the oil, then opened his closet to view his freshly delivered wardrobe. He chose a dark blue Purple Label suit with a chalk stripe, a blue-and-white-striped shirt, a becoming necktie, and a pair of shiny black alligator loafers. He had never spent so much money on clothes before, but he was in a celebratory mood.
He and Charmaine had a very fine dinner in the hotel’s Wolfgang Puck restaurant, and when he asked the headwaiter for a check, the man said, “Just tip the waiter, Mr. Burnett.” Teddy tipped both him and the waiter lavishly.
“What next, Billy?” Charmaine asked.
“Is the game of poker played in this establishment?”
“Oh, yes,” she replied.
Teddy stood up. “Show me.”
At dinner, Ben Bacchetti and Tessa Tweed sat next to each other and quickly seemed to bond, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the rest of the group, particularly Tessa’s mother, who monitored their conversation closely.
After dinner, over brandy, Emma Tweed sat on a sofa with Stone.
“You look worried,” Stone said.
“I am, I suppose. You saw what happened at dinner with Tessa and Ben.”
“I saw them enjoying each other’s company,” Stone said.
“It was more than that, I’m afraid. I have a feeling this is going to turn into something. They have far too much in common and are far too attracted to each other. I had visions of Tessa working in the West End theater for a few years before forming a real relationship, and now it seems to have happened too quickly.”
“I didn’t raise my son—he came to me in his teens, and he met Hattie at school almost immediately. They’ve been together ever since, and it’s been wonderful for both of them. My advice is to relax and let nature take its course. It will work or it won’t.”
“I know that’s what I should do, but I’m a mother—what else can I say?”
“You and I connected rather quickly,” Stone said. “You can’t deny that sort of luck to Tessa.”
“She’s going to the studio tomorrow morning, and I’m going, too.”
“Why don’t I take you to the studio a little later, after they’ve had time to see their new bungalow and Tessa has seen the studio?”
“I guess I can wait that long,” she said. “What bungalow?”
“Peter�
��s stepfather, Vance Calder, had the bungalow as his office and dressing room for decades, and the studio has given Peter the place. The kids worked with an architect and one of the studio’s set designers to make some improvements and enlarge the space, and they haven’t seen the finished product yet.”
“This I want to see,” Tessa said.
“So do I,” Stone replied.
• • •
Teddy played four hours of deliberately sloppy poker, dropping $22,000, while watching the other players carefully. He figured he could get the money back and more, and tonight would make him a favorite of the casino.
Charmaine walked him back to his suite, but stopped at the door. “Would you like me to send up someone for you?” she asked.
“Thank you, no,” Teddy said. “I prefer to make that sort of arrangement for myself, and not with a pro.”
“As you wish,” Charmaine said. “Shall I let you sleep late and pick you up for lunch?”
“That sounds perfect, then I want to play some more poker.”
“Careful, Billy, the losses can add up.”
“I can stand them,” Teddy said. He shook her hand and let himself into his suite.
• • •
The following morning Peter hooked up the U-Haul trailer to the Cayenne and drove Hattie, Ben, and Tessa to Centurion Studios. The guard at the gate had a parking sticker and a map of the lot waiting for them. Peter drove to the bungalow and found six reserved parking places in front with their names on them, plus three for guests. He parked the U-Haul in the parking lot across the street, and they crossed to the bungalow.
There were some rocking chairs and a swing on the front porch; it looked like a 1930s California home. They went inside and found the place perfectly decorated with the things they had picked out from photographs. Hattie’s piano was waiting in her studio, and a tuner was working on it.
Tessa had a look around and finally said, “You lot must be very important people around here.”
“They certainly are,” a man’s voice boomed from behind them.
Peter turned to find Leo Goldman Jr. standing in their sitting room. He pumped their hands and was introduced to Tessa.