"Santa Fe Edge" - читать интересную книгу автора (Woods Stuart)

7

Teddy Fay’s single-engine Cessna 182 RG crossed a range of snowcapped mountains late in the afternoon. It had been a long day against headwinds. He looked to his right at Lauren Cade, who seemed to be dozing. He placed a hand on her knee, and she stirred. “We’ll be on the ground at Santa Fe in fifteen minutes,” he said.

Lauren looked around. “What are these mountains?”

“The Sangre de Cristos,” he said. “They run up to Taos, north of here.”

“What about south?”

“They peter out.”

“Pretty. Is it going to be cold in Santa Fe?”

“Probably, but it’s a dry cold. You won’t feel it so much.”

“I’m going to have to buy a coat,” she said. “I didn’t own one in Florida.”

“We’ll both have to do that,” Teddy said.

Albuquerque Center called. “Descend and maintain one zero thousand,” the controller said. “Report the airport in sight.”

The weather was startlingly clear, and after consulting the GPS map, he thought he could pick out the field. The automated weather recording said that the wind was 190 at 10 knots. Five minutes later he reported the airport in sight.

“Cleared for the visual approach to Santa Fe,” the controller said.

Teddy descended to eight thousand, and once at that altitude, he turned left downwind for runway twenty and called Santa Fe tower.

“Cleared to land on twenty,” the controller replied.

He touched down smoothly on the runway and taxied to Santa Fe Jetcenter, where a rental car awaited them. He placed a fuel order and arranged hangar space, then he and Lauren drove into the city.

“Teddy,” she said, “I know there are some things you haven’t told me about yourself.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you talk so little about your past. I just want you to know that as far as I’m concerned, your life began the day I met you.”

Teddy smiled. “I feel exactly the same way,” he said. He had been struggling with how much to tell her, and how to justify his behavior since he had retired from the CIA some years before after a thirty-year career. Teddy had been an assistant deputy director for technical services at the Agency. Tech Services was the innocuous name for the department that supported foreign agents in the field, supplying identities, weapons, disguises, communications and anything else they might need. The work had given him an astonishing range of skills, and he had used them to stay out of prison. He turned to Lauren.

“I’ll tell you this much,” he said. “I worked for the Central Intelligence Agency for thirty years. I know that sounds like a bad pickup line in a bar, but it’s true.”

“I believe you,” she said. “Is that why you know so much about so many things?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Did you have to do bad things?”

“I’ve done some bad things, and I don’t want to talk about them, if that’s all right.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’d just as soon not know.” Lauren had been a sergeant with a special investigative unit of the Florida State Police. She’d left a good career to go with Teddy. He knew it and was grateful.

“I’ve booked us into the Inn of the Anasazi for a week,” he said. “If you like the town, we can look for a house to rent. If not, we can go on to California whenever you like.”

They continued into the town, drove through the Plaza and checked into the hotel, which, like just about everything else in the town, was built in Santa Fe style. A fire of piñon logs burned in the lobby, and the piney scent filled the air.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, eighteen hundred miles east of Santa Fe, Holly Barker arrived at her office a little after seven AM. Holly was assistant deputy director of operations, reporting directly to the director of operations, Lance Cabot, and she wanted to get to the office before he did. Lance had been on leave when she had returned from a month in Orchid Beach, Florida, where she had once been the chief of police.

She had been in her office for only a moment when Lance rapped on her doorjamb.

“Welcome back,” she said.

“Same to you. Anything to report?”

Holly took a deep breath. “Yes. Maybe you’d better sit down.”

“Come into my office,” he said.

She followed him down the hall and sat on his sofa, next to the chair where Lance liked to sit during meetings.

“So?”

Holly decided to just blurt it out. “Teddy Fay is still alive,” she said.

Lance put his face in his hands. “I didn’t hear that,” he said. “And I’m not going to hear the rest of what you have to tell me.”

“I met him in Orchid Beach,” she said. “I had no idea who he was.”

“He would have planned it that way,” Lance said. “Do you think he planned to meet you?”

“No, I’m certain he didn’t, but I’m also certain he knew who I was.”

“Is he still there?”

“No, he left town shortly before I did. I stopped by the cottage he rented to say good-bye to his girlfriend, a state police officer named Lauren Cade, who I knew in the army. The house had been cleared.”

“How do you know it was him?”

“I didn’t until the last day. I found him interesting, and a little odd. He was an excellent cook.”

“He cooked dinner for you?”

“For my boyfriend, Lauren and me.”

“Good God.”

“When I stopped by the cottage to see Lauren, there was a big safe in a closet that I didn’t know about. He had left a note on the safe for the landlord. The note said the combination was T-E-D-D-Y.”

“Any idea where he went when he left Orchid Beach?”

“None,” she said. “He could be anywhere.”

“He’s not anywhere,” Lance said. “He’s somewhere. Have you met Todd Bacon, who’s the station chief in Panama?”

“No.”

“He has a special interest in finding Teddy,” Lance said. “Call him and tell him he’s done in Panama, to report to me here as soon as he can clear his desk and pack his things.”

“Am I going to be involved in this?” she asked.

“Do you want to be?”

“No more than I have to.”

“You can brief Todd on your experience with Teddy in Orchid Beach,” Lance said. “After that I’ll try to keep you out of it. I know you have some sympathy for him.”

“I’ll do what I can to help,” Holly said, but she wasn’t looking forward to it.