Santa Fe Rules

by Stuart Woods

  “I’m not making any promises about that,” Wolf replied.

  “Pour yourself a stiff drink, and try to relax. I’ll be there in less than an hour.” Eagle hung up.

  “Problems?” Barbara asked.

  “You wouldn’t believe,” Eagle replied. “Come over here and sit down, Babs.”

  She crossed the room and sat on a barstool at the kitchen counter. “I think I like that—‘Babs.’”

  He placed a hand on her cheek. “I want to tell you some things and ask you some questions,” he said.

  “All right.”

  “First of all, I think I’m in love with you.”

  She smiled slowly. “Oh,” she said weakly. “Well, before you go any further, I think I’d better tell you that I feel the same way about you.”

  “That’s nice to hear,” Eagle said. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I have to say some other things to you. If you start to get angry with me, just remember I love you.”

  “All right,” she said. “But I don’t think I could get angry right now.”

  “Good. First, a question: Where were you this morning?”

  “At work. I spent the whole morning going over the computer printouts with Jim.”

  “And Jim would back you up on that?”

  “Of course. What are you getting at?”

  “Trust me for a minute. Remember back when I didn’t trust you?”

  “Mmmm, let’s see, that was this morning, wasn’t it?”

  “That’s right. Well, during the time I didn’t trust you, I behaved badly.”

  “That’s all right.”

  “You don’t understand. I broke into your apartment and searched it.”

  “What?”

  “On New Year’s Eve. I left the party, drove back to your place, and turned it over real good.”

  “Oh,” she said, nonplussed. “Did you find anything interesting?”

  “Not really. Just a gun.”

  “A girl has to protect herself.”

  “It bothers me that you have a gun; I want you to give it to me.”

  Barbara shrugged. “Okay, if it’ll make you feel better.”

  “It would make me feel a lot better.”

  “So the only interesting thing about me is my gun?”

  Eagle placed a hand on her cheek and kissed her. “Not by a long shot. Oh, there was something else in the apartment.”

  “What was it?”

  “It was tucked into a book called Beautiful Girlhood.”

  “Ah, a book to live by, that. It was my mother’s.”

  “I thought it might be. There was a torn photograph inside.”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Of two teenage girls.”

  Barbara looked away. “Yes. It was taken on Miriam’s—Julia’s fourteenth birthday. I tore Julia out of the middle.”

  “The other girl wasn’t Julia? But she looked so much like you.”

  “It was my other sister, Leah.”

  “Another sister?”

  She nodded. “Yes, named after my mother; she’s a year younger than I am.”

  “You never told me you had a younger sister.”

  She shrugged. “It never came up. Is it important?”

  Eagle was thinking hard now. “It may be. There’s something I have to know about Leah.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Did Leah have a tattoo on her breast?”

  Barbara smiled. “Yes. We all did that together—Julia, Leah, and I. It was kind of a lark, right after Julia graduated from high school.”

  “That’s very interesting.”

  “Why?”

  Eagle ignored the question. “Did Leah know Jimmy Grafton?”

  “She met him a couple of times with me in New York. Jimmy wanted to get us both in bed together, an idea that I found repellent. What’s going on, Ed? Why is this important?”

  “Where is Leah now?”

  “The last time I saw her she was living in New York, but when I was released I called her, and the number had been disconnected.”

  “I think Leah may be in Santa Fe.”

  “What? That’s crazy. Why would she be in Santa Fe? Anyway, she’d call me if she were here.”

  “She wouldn’t know, would she?”

  “I guess not, now that you mention it. Nobody knew I was coming here, and I couldn’t find Leah to tell her.”

  “What is Leah like?”

  “A lot like Julia,” Barbara replied. “Julia was Leah’s god; she worshiped the ground Julia walked on, wanted to be just like her. Unfortunately.”

  “Was Leah ever in any trouble?”

  Barbara shook her head. “No, but she should have been. She was just lucky, never getting caught at things.”

  “Is she…bright?”

  “Too bright for her own good,” Barbara said. “Cunning might be a better word.” She looked at Eagle. “Why do you think Leah might be in Santa Fe?”

  “It’s too complicated to go into right now. I have to leave, and I don’t know if I’ll be back tonight.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To Wolf Willett’s, and I’ll probably sleep there.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “I hope I don’t have competition from Wolf Willett.”

  Eagle laughed, then kissed her. “Separate bedrooms, I promise. Why don’t you fix yourself some dinner and crawl into my bed? There’s always the chance I’ll get back early.”

  She kissed him back. “You’re worth the wait, but this business about Leah is worrying me.”

  “I wish I could explain now, but I have to go. Will you be all right?”

  “Sure.”

  He kissed her again. “See you later.”

  “I’ll count on it.”

  Eagle got a coat and started out of the house, then stopped. He walked back to his bedroom, opened a bedside drawer, and took out a .45 automatic pistol. He checked the clip, put the gun in his pocket, and left for Wolf’s house.

  At last, he thought as he drove from Tesuque toward Santa Fe, this is beginning to make a weird kind of sense.

  CHAPTER

  49

  Wolf sat in the dark, the pistol cradled between his knees, and thought. He was trying to recall his last conversation with Hal Berger, something in that phone call that had nagged at him, and he couldn’t remember what.

  A sound filtered through the walls of the house, and Wolf froze. What he had heard was the crunch of a car’s tires on gravel. Now he heard a car door close. Was it Ed Eagle? No, Ed had said he would honk his horn.

  Wolf leapt from his chair and ran through the darkened house toward the kitchen door, working the action of the pistol along the way. He huddled next to the door, pistol at the ready, safety off, and to his horror, he saw the doorknob turn. It was locked, thank God.

  He jumped a foot as somebody began hammering on the door. “Wolf?” a voice called out.

  “Who is it?” Wolf demanded.

  “It’s Ed Eagle. Open the door.”

  Wolf opened the door and stepped back.

  “What’s going on? Why are all the lights out?” Eagle asked.

  “You said you were going to honk your horn when you arrived,” Wolf said accusingly.

  “I’m sorry, but when I saw the darkened house I didn’t know what was going on, so I tried not to make any noise.”

  “You scared the shit out of me,” Wolf said. He was trembling.

  “Could you ease the hammer down on that pistol and put the safety on? I’d feel a lot better.”

  “Sorry,” Wolf replied, doing as he was asked. “Come on into the study, and I’ll give you a drink.” He led the way into the room, switched on a dim lamp, and poured Eagle a large Scotch, then a bourbon for himself. “Sit down,” he said, indicating the sofa. He took the wing chair next to it.

  “Are you all right?” Eagle asked, sitting down and sipping his drink.

  “Yes, I’m all right.”

  “I’m sorry I took so long to
get here, but I had to stop by Bob Martinez’s house.”

  “What for?”

  “To report the threat on your life, of course. We can’t just let that pass.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m afraid it didn’t do a hell of a lot of good. Martinez greeted the news with some skepticism. He did offer to put a guard on your house, but you’d already said you didn’t want that.”

  “Is he going to do anything?”

  “What can he do? All we’ve got to go on is the Latino hit man. Martinez says there’s no such thing as a contract killer in Santa Fe.”

  “He doesn’t believe me, then?”

  “Probably not. I think he believes it’s some sort of ploy on our part.”

  “It’s Julia’s sister, isn’t it? Barbara?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “What kind of answer is that?”

  “Yes, it’s Julia’s sister; no, it’s not Barbara. I called Jim Arno on the way over here; he was working with her at the restaurant from nine until one. She couldn’t have been in Espanola at ten.”

  “Then what do you mean, it’s Julia’s sister?”

  “Well—”

  “Wait a minute!”

  “What is it?”

  “There’s another sister, isn’t there?”

  “How did you know that?”

  “Julia’s will. Hal Berger said she had made bequests to her sisters—in the plural. I’ve been trying to remember that all day.”

  “Yes, there’s another sister, name of Leah. Barbara had lost track of her, but she has the tattoo—all three of them did—and she’s got to be the answer.”

  “Maybe to a lot of things.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  “Did you tell Martinez about her?” Wolf asked.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because after the reception I got about the hired killer story, I didn’t think it would help to add a third sister to our story.”

  “I see your point.”

  “What do you want to do now?”

  “About what?” Wolf asked.

  “Well, there may be somebody stalking you. Are you just going to sit here with a loaded gun and wait for him?”

  Wolf laughed. “I guess that was my plan.” His eyebrows went up. “But I’ve got another idea.” He picked up the phone and dialed information. “I don’t know why I didn’t think about this when I was with Spider earlier this evening.” He got the number for the Gun Club, then called and asked for Spider. After a wait, the biker came on the line.

  “Yeah, this is Spider.”

  “Spider, it’s Wolf.”

  “Hey, man.”

  “Listen, do you think you could find the biker who told you about the hit man?”

  “Well, he could still be in Taos. I could try a couple bars up there.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d do that, and if you get hold of him, find out who the guy was that he recommended; get as much information as you can about him.”

  “Well,” Spider said, sounding doubtful.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Well, we got a kind of honor thing here.”

  “What are you talking about, Spider?”

  “I mean, this dude took the lady’s money, you know?”

  “What?”

  “Well, she trusted him, and he might take that serious.”

  “How about if I double the money? Then he’d have her thousand and two thousand more from me; would that help?”

  “I dunno. Maybe.”

  “Well, I’d appreciate it if you’d find the guy and learn as much as you can.”

  “Okay, Wolf, I’ll do that for an old cellmate.”

  “Call me back?”

  “As soon as I find out something, one way or the other.”

  Wolf thanked him and hung up. “Spider’s going to see what he can find out,” he said to Eagle.

  “Unorthodox, but it couldn’t hurt,” Eagle replied, sipping his Scotch.

  The two men sat and chatted desultorily for the better part of an hour. Then the phone rang.

  “Wolf, it’s Spider.”

  “Hi, Spider, what did you find out?”

  “Well, the dude’ll take your offer, and he’s named me to collect his money.”

  “Fine, I’ve got cash right now. You want me to bring it to you?”

  “Not yet. He gave me a name and the place where the guy hangs out—a spic bar over on Agua Fria. I’ll check it out first.”

  “Spider, maybe you’d better just give me the name now, and I’ll get the police on it.”

  “Get serious, Wolf,” Spider said sternly. “I’m not handing nobody to the cops. You just sit tight, and I’ll look into this, maybe talk to the guy, and get back to you later.”

  “All right, Spider, whatever you say.” He hung up the phone. “I don’t believe this,” he said to Eagle. “Now I’m hiring bikers to straighten out my life.”

  “Weirder things have happened,” Eagle replied.

  Wolf switched on the TV and found a movie on the Albu-querque/Santa Fe station. They settled down to wait for Spider’s call.

  CHAPTER

  50

  The movie ended at eleven, and the news came on. Both Wolf and Ed Eagle were beginning to nod off.

  “Good evening,” the newscaster said. “In world news tonight, the Soviet Union has asked Western countries for massive supplies of food and medicines…”

  “Wolf,” Eagle said, yawning, “I think I’d better stick around here tonight. You mind having an overnight guest?”

  “Not at all, Ed. I’d be grateful for the company. I—” Wolf stopped, sat up, and stared at the television screen. Something had caught his ear.

  “…an incident at a Santa Fe bar earlier this evening was described as nothing less than a riot by police. We go now to Nick Evans, our Santa Fe reporter, who is at the scene.”

  The camera cut to a reporter bathed in a white light. Behind him, a building was on fire. “Just about ten minutes ago, our mobile unit picked up a police call to El Hombre, a bar on Agua Fria catering to a Hispanic clientele. We arrived on the scene just in time to witness a man flying through a plate-glass window. A fight had apparently broken out inside, and the presence of a large number of motorcycles in the parking lot indicated that a gang of bikers was involved. We watched from outside as two patrolmen entered the bar, then beat a hasty retreat and called for reinforcements. Units of the Santa Fe Police Department and the New Mexico State Police arrived shortly, and by that time the building was on fire and people were pouring outside, where they were met by riot-equipped officers.

  “About a dozen bikers made it to their motorcycles and roared off down Agua Fria, pursued by police. Another eight bikers were arrested, along with as many Hispanic men who had been in the bar.”

  The camera cut to previously recorded tape and moved in on four policemen wrestling a man to the ground.

  “It’s Spider!” Wolf said.

  Clearly the four were having trouble hanging on to him, and a moment later they were joined by two more cops. Together they got the biker handcuffed, on his feet, and into a paddy wagon.

  “Holy shit,” Eagle said.

  The reporter continued. “All the arrestees were taken to Santa Fe County Detention Center for the night, and police say they will be arraigned tomorrow morning.”

  Eagle got up. “Come on,” he said.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the Santa Fe County Detention Center.”

  Things were quiet at the jail, and a solitary sergeant was on duty at the booking desk. “Evening, counselor,” he said as Eagle approached the desk.

  “Evening, Sergeant. I want to confer with a prisoner.”

  “At this time of night? These ain’t regular visiting hours, Mr. Eagle.”

  “It’s urgent,” Eagle said. “I’d appreciate it if we could meet now.”

  “Who’s this?” the sergeant asked, nodding at Wolf.
>
  “My colleague, Mr. Willett. He’s an attorney.”

  The sergeant sighed. “Okay, what’s the prisoner’s name?”

  Eagle looked at Wolf, who shrugged. He turned back to the sergeant. “Spider,” he said.

  “Ah,” said the sergeant, running a finger down a ledger. “Herman Albert Willis.” He picked up a phone and spoke into it, then hung up. “Room number one, counselor.”

  Eagle led Wolf down a hallway and into a small room; Wolf recognized it as the one where he had been questioned by the police. They sat down, and a moment later Spider was ushered into the room. The left side of his face was swollen badly.

  “Hey, Wolf,” Spider said, sticking out a paw.

  Wolf shook it. “Spider, are you all right? Do you need a doctor?”

  “Nah,” Spider said, taking a seat. “It ain’t nothing. I caught a nightstick, that’s all. The spics never laid a hand on me.”

  “Spider, this is Ed Eagle.”

  “Hey, Mr. Eagle!” Spider exclaimed, pumping the lawyer’s hand. He looked back at Wolf. “What’re you guys doing here?”

  “We came to find out what happened,” Eagle explained. “We saw something on television.”

  “Oh, yeah, they was there, all right.”

  “What happened, Spider?” Wolf asked.

  “Oh, we went out there to talk to this guy, Chico, the one who’s supposed to waste you.”

  “Did you find him there?” Eagle asked.

  “Oh, sure, he was there. He didn’t like it much that I knew about his contract, and he got some of his greasers on me. I whistled up some of my dudes, and it got crazy there for a while.”

  “Did you find out anything from Chico?” Eagle asked.

  “Not much at the bar, but I found out some more when we got here.”

  “I don’t understand,” Wolf said.

  “The cops put him in the next cell, so we had a chance to talk.”

  “Did you hurt the man?” Eagle asked.

  “Oh, no, he was too far away to reach. I just let him know what was going to happen to him when he got out if he didn’t talk to me.”

  “And what did he have to say?”

  “He took the contract, all right. He was in that bar spending the money when I got there.”

  “What did he say about the woman who hired him?”