by Stuart Woods
“Just wait,” Stone said. “The airplane will turn right as it leaves the ramp, and you’ll be able to see it.”
The door to the jet closed, and it began to taxi. As Stone had predicted, it turned right.
“Got it,” Lance said, jotting down the number. “Don’t move the car, just let them taxi right past us.” He got out his cell phone and pressed a speed-dial number. “This is Echo 4141,” he said. “I need the current flight plan for the following aircraft registration number.” He read out the tail number. “It will be activated at Teterboro, New Jersey, momentarily. I need the destination and any stops in between.” He put a hand over the phone. “They’re logging on the FAA’s Air Traffic Control computer now,” he said to the backseat. “Yes? Thank you. I’d like a trace on the aircraft in case it changes destinations, and I’d like to know what time it is projected to land. Right.” He hung up. “Their destination is Santa Fe, New Mexico,” he said.
“I wonder why Santa Fe?” Holly asked.
“Trini will blend in with the large Hispanic population there. It sounds like a final destination, too. If they were going to put him on a commercial flight, they’d go to Albuquerque. Santa Fe has few commercial flights, and none late at night.”
“Can you get someone to cover the arrival and follow them to their destination?” Stone asked.
“I’m afraid I can’t stretch my authority that far, since I’m based in New York. I’m not even sure we have anybody on the ground in Santa Fe. Maybe Albuquerque, though.”
They watched as the jet took off and turned to the southwest.
“We may as well go home,” Lance said.
“Did they give you an ETA for Santa Fe?” Stone asked.
“They’ve flight-planned for four hours and ten minutes,” Lance replied.
Stone looked at his watch.
“It’s two hours earlier in Santa Fe. You know somebody out there?” Holly asked.
“I used to, but it’s been a long time,” Stone said.
“It’s worth a try,” Holly said.
“What the hell, I’ll try,” Stone said, getting out his cell phone. “I did some work once with a lawyer out there. If he remembers me, maybe he’ll help.” He dialed information. “A number in Santa Fe, New Mexico, for the residence of Ed Eagle,” he said. “Please connect me.” While the number rang, he turned to Holly. “You really want to chase him down?”
“More than anything.”
“Hello,” a deep voice said at the other end of the phone.
“Ed?”
“Yes, who’s this?”
“Ed, this is Stone Barrington, in New York. We did a little work together a few years back.”
“Of course, Stone. How are you?”
“I’m very well, thank you. I hope you are, as well.”
“I can’t complain. Business is brisk and life is sweet.”
“Well, you can’t ask for more than that. Ed, I need something done in Santa Fe, and I hope you can help me.”
“I will if I can. What do you need?”
“I need a private detective, or just somebody smart, to meet a private jet that’s going to be landing in Santa Fe in about four hours. There are three to five men aboard, and I want them followed to their destination.”
“I think I know a fellow who can handle that,” Eagle said. “Anything else he should know?”
“One of them is wanted in Florida on a fugitive warrant. The others are FBI agents, and they’ll probably be met by an FBI car.”
“A fugitive traveling with FBI agents?”
“It’s complicated. I’ll explain it when I get there.”
“You’re coming out, then?”
“I’ll leave tomorrow morning in my own airplane; probably be there in time for dinner. Can you recommend a hotel?”
“How many are you?”
“Myself and a lady cop.”
“Can you share a room?”
“You betcha.”
“Then I insist you stay with me. Call me at your fuel stop and give me an ETA, and I’ll meet you.”
“Thank you, Ed. If the destination of these parties is not local, then I’ll need to know that. It might cause a change of plan.”
“I’ll call you by eight tomorrow morning, your time, and give you my man’s report on their destination.”
“Thank you, Ed. I’ll speak to you then.” He hung up and turned to Holly. “Okay, we’re going to Santa Fe.”
“Are you sure we shouldn’t fly commercial?”
“I don’t fly commercial, except overseas.”
38
THE FOLLOWING MORNING at 7:45, Stone had just finished packing when the phone rang.
“Hello?
“Stone, it’s Ed Eagle.”
“Good morning, Ed.”
“My man was at Santa Fe Airport last night when the jet in question landed and was met by a van with federal plates. He followed the group to a house out on the north side of town, in a semi-remote area. After a few minutes, the van left the house with three occupants, which indicates that your fugitive is in the house with at least two agents.”
“That’s great news, Ed. Thanks very much.”
“Stone, I don’t know if you’ve considered the ramifications of trying to arrest a fugitive who’s already in federal custody.”
“I’m just helping out a friend,” Stone replied, “and I’m constantly reminding her of the difficulties involved, but she’s determined to take this guy back to Florida for trial.”
“We’ll talk some more when you get here,” Eagle said.
“Okay. We’re refueling in Saint Louis, and I’ll call you from there with an ETA.”
“A word of advice. If you can stretch your fuel for landing at Wichita, it’s a faster in-and-out.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. We’ll have to see how the actual, as opposed to forecast, headwinds work out.”
“See you tonight then.”
“Thanks again, Ed.”
Holly came into the room. “What’s up?”
“They’re in Santa Fe, and Ed’s guy followed them to a house there, so it may be Trini’s final destination.”
“I’m ready to go when you are.”
“Then let’s do it.”
Joan drove them to Teterboro, where Stone did a preflight inspection and got a clearance. They were rolling by nine o’clock.
Their route took them over Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, and the headwinds proved light enough for Stone to make Wichita for refueling. He called Ed Eagle from there and gave him an ETA of nine p.m., Santa Fe time.
Ed Eagle was standing on the ramp when Stone taxied up to the Santa Fe Jet Center, and ten minutes later they were headed to Eagle’s house.
“I’ve had a man watching the house all day,” Ed said, “and nobody has left the place.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s about five miles north of the center of town, off Tano Road, on Tano Norte. The area has some new houses, but it’s not all built up yet. There’s a lot of empty land around it. I know the house, because I knew the guy who built it, and I went to a couple of dinner parties there.”
“Can you describe it to me?”
“A single story—there are restrictions on building height out there—three bedrooms, a library, living room, dining room, kitchen, garage—about six thousand square feet. A subsequent owner built an elaborate wall along the road, so you can’t see the house from the road.”
“Does the wall go all the way around the house?”
“No. You could approach it on foot, but the terrain is a little rough—arroyos and ravines on the property. I did the closing when the original owner bought the property, and as I recall, he bought half of a twenty-five-acre tract. There are no other houses within, say, five hundred feet. There’s also a swimming pool and cabana, a tennis court, and a guest house.”
“Sounds pretty elaborate for somebody in the Witness Protection Program.”
“I thought the s
ame thing. It may just be a way point on the way to his final destination.”
“Sounds pretty elaborate for an FBI property, too.”
“Yeah. My guess is it’s owned by somebody friendly to the Bureau—I’ll have to check the property records to find out who—and that they’ve got your man stashed in the guest house. If that’s the case, it might make him a little easier to get out of there. The guest house has its own access to the road.”
“Can we take a look at it tonight?” Holly asked.
“You don’t want to do that. You’re tired, and you don’t know the territory, and dinner’s waiting for us.”
“Relax, Holly,” Stone said. “It doesn’t sound like Trini’s going anywhere.”
“Oh, all right,” Holly sighed.
Ed drove them through the village of Tesuque, north of Santa Fe, and up into the hills above the village, then turned into a driveway marked by a large stone eagle perched on a big boulder.
The house was spacious and comfortable, and the guest bedroom was inviting.
“Freshen up. There’s a drink waiting for you, and dinner in a few minutes,” Ed said.
Stone splashed some water on his face and brushed his hair. “You ready?” he asked Holly.
“You go get us a drink. I’ll be along in a minute.”
Stone found Ed in the kitchen, where there were sizzling noises coming from a skillet.
“Booze is over there in that cabinet,” Ed said, pointing. “Help yourself.”
Stone found a selection of half a dozen bourbons and poured Holly and himself some Knob Creek.
“That lady of yours sounds hot for this guy,” Ed said.
“That’s putting it mildly. She’s going at him with reckless abandon. We had the guy nailed in New York last night, only to find a bunch of FBI agents guarding him.”
“How’d you find out he went to Santa Fe?”
“We followed them to Teterboro and a friend got a report on their flight plan. That’s when I called you.”
“Stone, I don’t know what your relationship is to this lady, but I can guess. Are you sure you’re not following your dick around?”
“No, I’m not sure,” Stone replied. “I keep asking myself that question, but I just got caught up in this business, and I’d like to help her see it through.”
“I’m happy to help you as much as I can, Stone, but see that I don’t get mixed up in a kidnapping.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you out of it, Ed. How’s life these days?”
“Life is very good. I got married a few years back, but she’s at a spa in California this week, toning up and all that good stuff.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet her.”
“Another time.”
Holly joined them, and Stone handed her her drink. “Is there any way we can find out tonight who owns that house?” she asked. “That’s been worrying me.”
Ed picked up a phone and dialed a number. “Sharon? Ed Eagle. You remember the house you built out on Tano Norte? . . . That’s the one. Any idea who owns it now? . . . No kidding? Since when? . . . Just curious. Thanks very much.” He hung up. “That was the lady who was the contractor on the house. She says it’s owned now by Byron Miller.”
“Who’s he?” Holly asked.
“He’s the U.S. Attorney for our district, and I’d advise you not to try to take your man off his property. He could do bad things to you.”
“Swell,” Holly said, pulling on her bourbon.
39
ED EAGLE WAS waiting when Stone and Holly came into the kitchen for breakfast. “You’re on the move early,” Stone said.
“I’ve got a hearing at nine o’clock, and I didn’t have time to prepare fully for it yesterday,” Ed said. He spread a map over the kitchen table. “I want to show you exactly where the house on Tano Norte is,” he said, pointing. “You go back into Tesuque, then take the main highway south. There’s a lot of construction, and they’ve sealed off the old entrance to Tano Road, so you’ll have to go this route and turn right at the first exit.” He drew a line on the map with a Hi-Liter. “Tano Norte turns off Tano Road right here, and the house is another mile and a quarter down the road. You’ll be able to see the house from a hill right here, but when you get to the place you’ll just see a wall. My man is still out there, and I’m going to pull him off the surveillance this morning, unless you want to fork out three hundred bucks a day for his time.”
“Pull him off, and I’ll reimburse you for his time so far,” Holly said. “My department has discretionary funds for this sort of thing.”
“I’m just guessing, but I don’t think Byron Miller is going to host a felon for very long. Either he wants something from the guy, or the place he’s headed for isn’t quite ready yet, but I think they’re going to move him soon.”
“What sort of guy is Miller?” Stone asked.
“A hard-ass. None of the lawyers I know like him, and he enjoys his reputation for being tough. If you cross him, he’ll screw you first and ask questions later.” Ed handed them a card and some car keys. “Here’s my office number and the cell, too, and you can use the Jeep outside for as long as the wife is out of town, and she’s not due back until next week. There are some binoculars in the center console. Have you got a cell phone?”
Stone wrote down both their cell numbers.
“Okay, have a good time,” Ed said, and he was gone.
Stone and Holly followed Ed’s directions, and Stone stopped the Jeep Grand Cherokee at the top of a hill. “That’s the house out there,” he said, pointing to an adobe-colored lump on the land nearly a mile away. “Let’s get a closer look.” He drove slowly down the road, enjoying the view to the north, until they came to a long wall.
“The place looks like a monastery,” Holly said, pointing at the bell over the gate.
“We’d better turn around,” Stone said, pointing at a sign that told them the road was a dead end. “We can’t just camp out in front of the place.” He drove back to the hilltop where they could see the house. “Anybody who leaves is going to have to come this way. There’s no other road.” He turned off on a dirt track that ended in a clearing, then pointed the car toward the house. “Good view,” he said, rolling down the windows and taking the binoculars out of the center console.
“So we’re just going to sit here?” Holly asked.
“We can’t bust in there and take Trini,” Stone said. “You know whose house it is.” He trained the binoculars on the house. “Nobody’s moving.”
They sat for three hours, listening to a local radio station and watching the house. The day grew warm.
“This is really boring,” Holly said.
“Sounds like you’ve never done a lot of stakeout work,” Stone replied.
“No, I haven’t, and now I know why. I like to keep on the move.”
“Tell you what, why don’t you drive back to Tesuque and get us some sandwiches? I’ll stay here and keep an eye on the house.”
“What happens if Trini moves?”
“I’ll call you on your cell phone. You can head them off.”
“And leave you sitting here?”
“I’ll call Ed or a cab, if you have to follow somebody,” Stone said, getting out of the car.
Holly got into the driver’s seat. “What do you want?”
“A sandwich and a diet soda will do.”
“See you soon.” She started the car and turned back toward Tano Norte.
Stone settled himself under a piñon tree and took in the landscape. To the west a series of mountains rose, and from the map he figured out that was where Los Alamos was. The Rio Grande was supposed to be somewhere over there, but he couldn’t see it. He picked out various spots on the landscape with the binoculars, occasionally checking the house.
He began to get drowsy and stood up to get his circulation going. What the hell was he doing out here in the high desert, watching a house, hoping Trini would move? He should be in New York, getting some work
done, making some money, instead of letting this girl drag him all over the country.
Holly returned with their sandwiches, and they had just begun to eat when there was movement at the house.
“Some people down there,” she said, grabbing the binoculars.
Four or five people had materialized from somewhere and were standing around a car, talking.
“Is one of them Trini?” Stone asked.
“I think so. It’s hard to tell.”
The people continued to talk, then they got into two cars and left the house, driving up the road toward them.
“They’re moving,” Holly said.
Stone started the car and drove the few yards back to Tano Norte. “Let’s get a look in those cars.” He turned into the road, then pulled over to one side and got out the map. “I’m going to pretend to be looking at this. You watch the car as it passes and see if he’s inside.”
“Okay.”
Stone played the studious tourist, and a minute later the two cars overtook and passed him.
“Second car,” Holly said. “Trini’s in the backseat. Let’s go!”
“Wait a minute. Let’s not follow too closely.” He gave the car a good head start, then got moving. As they reached the paved part of the road he pointed into the distance. “There it is.”
“Don’t lose it,” Holly said.
Stone increased his speed to keep the car in sight. He followed it back onto the main highway, and they headed into the town. He followed the car until it turned into the parking lot of a large building only a short distance into town. He pointed at a sign. “It’s the federal courthouse,” he said. “They must be taking him to the U.S. Attorney’s office.”
“Or Trini is testifying in a case.” Holly opened the door.
“Where are you going?” Stone asked.
“I’m going to follow them,” she said. “You park the car.”
“How will I know where you’re going?”
“If Trini is testifying, they’ll be going to a courtroom, won’t they?”