Stuart Woods Holly Barker Collection

by Stuart Woods

  “Can I see him?”

  “Why don’t you wait until after lunch? He was up all night, and the doctor wants him to get some sleep.”

  “Is he really all right?”

  “Really, he is. He probably fell off his bike as a kid and got hurt worse.”

  “He broke his arm, falling off his bike.”

  “This isn’t nearly as bad. Just give him a few hours to rest, then go see him. Is there anything I can do for you? Do you need anything, maybe a ride to the hospital?”

  “No, thank you, Chief; I have my car.”

  “Please call me if there’s anything I can do. Teddy will be released tomorrow morning, and he’s going to be at home for a couple of days, resting. Don’t you let him come back to work until he feels well again.”

  “Don’t you worry, Chief, I’ll take care of him. Thank you for calling.”

  Holly hung up and found Hurd standing in her doorway.

  “Ham doesn’t want his phones swept,” he said.

  “I’ll deal with Ham,” Holly replied. “You just get Phil Sweat out there.”

  11

  Holly drove out to Ham’s little island, off the North Bridge, and pulled up to his house. There was a strange car parked out front. Before Holly could make it to the front porch, Ham came out, pulling on a polo shirt.

  “Morning, Ham.”

  “What the hell are you doing here at this hour of the morning?”

  “Ham, it’s a little past eleven. What happened to your early rising habit?”

  “Well, there are times when I just don’t want to get out of bed.”

  Finally, Holly got it. “Oops, my fault; I just wasn’t thinking.”

  “You could say that. And what the hell does Hurd Wallace want to bug my house for?”

  “He doesn’t want to bug it; he wants it checked for bugs. So do I.”

  “And why the hell would anybody bug my house?”

  “Calm down, Ham. I don’t know, and I don’t know why they’d want to bug my house, either, but they did.”

  That stopped Ham in his tracks. “They did?”

  “They did. A fellow named Phil Sweat found the bug, and when I disconnected it and put an officer out back to see if anybody would try to reconnect it, he got hit over the head.”

  Ham absorbed this. “Come on in, I’ll make you some coffee.”

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “Oh, what the hell, it’s time you met her anyway.”

  Holly followed him into the house. “Met who?”

  “Met me,” a woman’s voice said.

  Holly turned and found a very good-looking redhead standing in the bedroom doorway, buckling the belt on a pair of jeans that fit her slim body perfectly. Her tight, ribbed sweater was a little short, revealing a small expanse of freckled midriff.

  “I’m Ginny,” she said, offering her hand.

  “Virginia Heller,” Ham said, “and she is.”

  Holly shook her hand. “Glad to meet you, Ginny.”

  “Ham’s told me a lot about you.”

  Holly laughed. “Then you have me at a disadvantage, because he hasn’t told me a thing about you.”

  “Bad Ham,” Ginny said, shooting him a glance.

  “I just haven’t gotten around to it,” Ham said, pouring coffee for them all.

  “Phil Sweat is going to be here in a few minutes,” Holly said, “just as soon as he finishes at my house.”

  “Tell me about this,” Ham said.

  Holly led them out onto the back porch, which overlooked the Indian River, and told them about her break-in and the resulting phone tap.

  “You sure lead an interesting life,” Ginny said.

  “This is more annoying than interesting,” Holly replied.

  “I think it’s real interesting,” Ham said, “that somebody thinks he needs to hear what you say on the phone. Who’s your best guess?”

  “I don’t have a best guess; it doesn’t make any sense at all.”

  “And who’s this Phil Sweat?” Ham asked.

  “He runs a locksmith and security service; he seems to be very good at it, too.” She turned to Ginny. “You a local, Ginny?”

  “For nearly a month,” she replied. “I’m a flight instructor out at the airport.”

  “No kidding?” Holly asked. “I have an interest in getting my private pilot’s license.”

  “That’s what I do. Come out real soon, and we’ll take an introductory flight.”

  “How about this weekend?”

  “Saturday morning, nine A.M.?”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “It’s called Orchid Flight Academy.”

  “I’ve seen the building. What airplane do you teach in?”

  “We’d start you in a Piper Warrior, which is pretty basic but nice, and when you feel like it, move you up to something more complex.”

  “I’ll look forward to that.” She heard the crunch of gravel under tires. “That’ll be Phil,” she said. She walked to the front door and waved him inside. When the introductions had been made, he asked her to step outside.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “I checked the bug, as you asked, and it had not been reconnected.”

  “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

  “Turns out, it’s bad, and it gets worse.”

  “How?”

  “I thought it was suspicious that they’d go to the trouble to slug a cop, then do nothing, so I had a more extensive look around the house. I ended up in the crawl space underneath, and I found another bug, just like the first one.”

  “Swell.”

  “Yeah. What do you want me to do?”

  Holly thought about that. She hated the loss of privacy. “Leave it intact,” she said. “Let them think I think I’m not being overheard. They can’t see into the house, can they?”

  Phil shook his head. “Nothing like that. These aren’t Peeping Toms; they’re looking for information.”

  Holly nodded. “Go ahead and check out Ham’s place.”

  “Shouldn’t take long. If they’ve bugged it, they’d use the same equipment they’re using at your place.”

  Holly left him to his work and went back inside. “Ham, from now on, when you call me or when you come to the house, be careful what you say. I’m bugged again, and I’m going to leave it that way.”

  “I wouldn’t know what not to say,” Ham replied.

  “Me either,” Holly admitted. They finished their coffee and made small talk.

  Half an hour later, Phil Sweat came out to the back porch. “Same deal here,” he said quietly. “You want me to leave it in place?”

  “Is it just a phone tap?” Ham asked.

  “It’s more than that; it turns every phone in your house into a microphone.”

  Ginny Heller spoke up. “Let me get this straight. You mean that somebody could listen to every sound in this house?”

  “That’s about the size of it,” Phil said.

  “Oh, shit,” she said. “Ham, you’re going to have to start coming to my place.”

  “Ham,” Holly said, “I’d like to leave the bug in place; that all right with you? And Ginny?”

  Ham and Ginny exchanged a long look. “I guess I’d better start coming to your place,” he said to her.

  “This is very embarrassing,” Ginny muttered.

  “Yeah, we’re probably all over some Internet porn site by now,” Ham said, deadpan.

  “Ham!” Ginny cried, blushing.

  Holly tried not to laugh. “Don’t worry, there are no cameras. Are there, Phil?”

  “Nope,” Phil replied, trying to keep a straight face.

  “Thank God for that,” Ginny said under her breath.

  Ham, looking amused, started to say something, but Holly cut him off. “Well, I guess I’d better get back to work,” she said.

  Phil spoke up. “I think we’d better go back in the house so I can give a negative report on finding bugs, for the benef
it of whoever’s listening.”

  “Good idea,” Ham said.

  Ginny looked at her watch. “I’ve got to get going. I’ve got a student coming at one o’clock, and I’ve still got to . . .” She left that unsaid.

  They went back into the house, Phil gave his report in an audible voice, and he, Holly, and Ginny went to their cars.

  “I’ll see you Saturday morning at nine,” Holly said, waving to Ginny. “Do I need to bring anything?”

  “Nope,” Ginny called back. “I’ll supply everything.”

  “Good to meet you.”

  “And you.” Ginny drove away.

  Holly drove back to her office. When she arrived, there was a note on her desk to call Ed Shine.

  12

  Holly returned Ed Shine’s call, and a secretary answered.

  “Mr. Shine’s office.”

  “This is Holly Barker, returning Ed’s call.”

  “Oh, yes; please hold.”

  “Holly? How are you?”

  “Very well, Ed. What have you been up to?”

  “Working hard; we’ve sold two houses already.”

  “That’s great.”

  “You and Ham free for dinner on Saturday?”

  “I am, and Ham probably is, although he has a girlfriend these days.”

  “Invite them both.”

  “I’ll do that and get back to you.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Holly called Ham, made the date, and called Shine back.

  “Good. My car will pick you up at seven o’clock. Where do you live?”

  Holly gave him directions.

  “Then you can direct the driver to Ham’s place. Then you’ll pick me up.”

  “Where are we dining?”

  “At the Yellow Dog Cafe, just south of Melbourne. It’s not a long drive.”

  “I’ve heard good things about it. We’ll see you later.”

  Holly hung up and went back to work on her personnel files, completing the job while having a sandwich at her desk. Then her phone rang.

  “Holly Barker.”

  “Hi, it’s Harry.”

  “Hello, Harry. How are you?”

  “Good. You free for dinner on Saturday night?”

  “No, I’ve just made plans; Ham and I are dining with friends.”

  “How about Sunday night?”

  “Okay. What brings you up this way?”

  “It’s not me; his name is Grant Early.”

  “Harry, are you trying to fix me up?”

  “Not exactly. He’s one of my people and he’s going to be spending some time in your area.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I think we need a presence around there—not exactly an agent in residence, more of a . . .”

  “Harry, is he going to be undercover?”

  “Well, yes. He’ll explain that to you. I’d appreciate it if you’d give him any help you can.”

  “What could I possibly do for him that the FBI can’t?”

  Harry paused to think about that. “He might need some on-the-ground assistance,” he said finally.

  “Well, okay, Harry. Have him call me about Sunday.”

  “He’s right here; I’ll put him on.”

  “Hello?” a man’s deep voice said.

  “Hello.”

  “Holly Barker?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Grant Early.”

  “Sounds like a bourbon.”

  “Usually people say scotch. I take it we’re on for dinner on Sunday?”

  “All right.” Holly didn’t know why she was agreeing to this.

  “Will you book us a table at some place you like a lot? I’ll pick you up at seven, if that’s all right.”

  “All right.”

  “Harry says he’ll give me directions to your place.”

  “Okay.”

  “How should I dress?”

  “We’re pretty casual up here; a jacket but no tie should do.”

  “See you then. Here’s Harry.”

  “Holly, I appreciate this. Don’t blame Grant if he can’t tell you everything.”

  “I’ll blame you.”

  Harry laughed.

  “Harry, have you been bugging my phones?”

  “Huh?” His surprise sounded genuine.

  “Somebody has; the FBI is good at that.”

  “Who do you think it is?”

  “My first guess was you.”

  “Wrong. What’s your second guess?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “You working on something exotic?”

  “Nope.”

  “You working on something unexotic that someone might want to know about?”

  “Not that I can think of, and believe me, I’ve thought about it. Whoever it is, is bugging Ham, too, and since he has a new girlfriend, he’s not happy about it.”

  “Why don’t you talk to Grant about this on Sunday night? Maybe he’ll have some ideas.”

  “Okay.”

  “And watch your back; I don’t like the sound of this.”

  “Okay.” Holly hung up feeling uneasy. She didn’t like the sound of it, either, but she hadn’t thought about watching her back.

  Her phone rang again.

  “Holly Barker.”

  “Chief, it’s Teddy Wright.” He sounded sheepish.

  “How are you feeling, Teddy?”

  “A lot better; I want to come back to work today.”

  “No dice; you’re taking two sick days. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”

  “But what am I going to do? I’ll go nuts sitting around here.”

  “Watch soap operas; that shouldn’t put any strain on your newly concussed brain.”

  “I hate soap operas.”

  “So do I. Try reading.”

  “I’m not much of a reader.”

  “Teddy, you’re wasting my time. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”

  “Okay, Chief.” Teddy hung up.

  Once again, Holly felt motherly.

  13

  On Saturday morning Holly drove out to the Orchid Beach airport and found the Orchid Flight Academy. She had been there before, she realized.

  The building was broken into a warren of small rooms with desks and computers, and most of them were busy. Ginny Heller was seated in a glassed-in office at the back of the small building.

  “Good morning,” Holly said, rapping on her open door.

  “Good morning,” Ginny replied. “What do you think of my place?”

  “Used to be a flying club, didn’t it? I came out here once for a flight with a friend.”

  “Right. I bought it from the couple who owned it for thirty years, and I’m expanding the operation. I’ve installed computers for ground school and hired a couple more instructors.”

  “I didn’t realize you were the boss.”

  Ginny waved her into a seat. “Yeah, I took my divorce settlement and put it to work here.”

  “Have you been instructing for long?”

  “About eight years. I took up flying because my marriage was boring me stiff, and then I started instructing. I’ve got more than three thousand hours now, and a bunch of ratings. It was the only thing I got out of the marriage, except the settlement.”

  “Good for you.”

  Ginny handed her a document. “These are our prices for aircraft rental and instructors’ fees. The first lesson is free.”

  Holly read quickly through the price list. “Okay by me.”

  Ginny picked up a canvas briefcase. “Shall we get started?”

  “Sure.” Holly followed Ginny out to the ramp to a shiny Piper Warrior, and Ginny began to walk her through a preflight inspection of the airplane.

  “We going to fly today?” Holly asked, surprised.

  “We always fly on the first lesson; gets the student hooked.”

  The preflight completed, they got into the airplane, Holly in the left seat.

  “You ever flown an airplane
before?”

  “Yeah. Jackson was a pilot, and he would let me take the controls now and then.”

  “Okay, let’s get started up. Here’s your checklist.”

  Holly worked her way through the list of tasks to complete, and soon the engine was running.

  “You steer with your feet; turning the yoke doesn’t help at all,” Ginny explained. “Tune the bottom radio to the ATIS frequency—that’s the automated weather report.”

  Holly listened and wrote down the data, which was called Information Bravo.

  “Now tune the top radio to the ground frequency—it’s on your checklist. Call ground control, give them your tail number—it’s on the placard over the yoke—and announce that you’re ready to taxi from the Orchid Flight Academy and that you have Information Bravo.”

  Holly did so and was cleared to taxi to runway 18.

  “The runways are labeled according to their direction. Runway one-eight is south; runway three-six is north. Keep the nosewheel on the yellow line and follow it, first to the taxiway, then to the runway.”

  Holly steered with the rudder pedals and found it quite easy to keep the little airplane on track. They stopped at a parking place near the end of the runway and went through the run-up checklist.

  “Now we’re ready for takeoff,” Ginny said. “Call the tower frequency, it’s on your checklist, and say you’re ready, number one for takeoff.”

  Holly did so and was cleared for takeoff.

  “Now check to see there’s no one about to land, then taxi onto the runway and line up the nosewheel with the center line.”

  Holly followed the instructions.

  “Now apply full throttle smoothly, and keep on the center line. When the airspeed indicator reads sixty knots, rotate—that means pull smoothly back on the yoke.”

  Holly found the throttle and pushed it in slowly. The airplane began to roll down the runway. At sixty knots she rotated, and they lifted into the air. It was an exhilarating feeling, she found.

  “Watch your direction indicator and keep her on a one-eight-zero heading,” Ginny said. “At five hundred feet of altitude, turn right to two-seven-zero.”

  Holly made the right turn.

  “Continue to climb to three thousand feet and hold this heading,” Ginny said. “You’re doing very well.”

  Holly glanced outside at the flat, central Florida landscape moving beneath her. Her heart was beating fast. “This is wonderful,” she said.