Code Name: Baby (14 page)

He hadn't gone two feet more when a small dog with trailing white hair and a red satin bow blocked his way, barking incessantly in short, shrill bursts that Butch answered with stunning disdain.

“Good dog,” Wolfe muttered. “This is just ground fire. Ignore it, buddy.” But the white dog kept barking.

Wolfe guided the Labs away, turning down the nearest aisle. Trying to ignore the chaos of noise, color and motion around him, he scanned the shelves, stocked high with rhinestone dog collars and puppy diapers.

Puppy diapers?

The world had definitely changed since he'd been recruited for Foxfire. Looking around, he felt like Rip Van Winkle starting to wake up, and the experience wasn't pleasant.

Butch and Sundance didn't move, taking in the chaos with calm interest. Their behavior made Wolfe smile. “She did a damn good job on you two guys, didn't she?”

Sundance's tail gave three quick wags.

“Okay, let's move before we suffer another hostile response.” He headed toward the center of the store in search of Kit, wondering how there could be so many different colors of leashes. And who in the hell needed sixty varieties of dog food?

At the next corner, he nearly tripped over a tiny Pekinese who had pulled away from its owner and raced under his feet. When he turned around, a blonde with a tight T-shirt cut to showcase about five inches of naked stomach was looking his way. Her eyes narrowed. Smiling, she wiggled a little so that her jeans slipped lower and the T-shirt slid higher.

It had been months since he'd had a normal social interaction in a civilian situation, and the standard protocols were a little dim. As the blonde waved at him and crossed the aisle, he gave a wary smile. Before he could take evasive maneuvers, she'd blocked his path.

“Wow, what cute puppies. And they're so well behaved.” She wiggled again, making the jeans slip even lower. “I can't reach the dog treats. I hate it when they put them so high.” She looked down, showing some cleavage and making kissing noises at Butch and Sundance. “I'll be glad to hold these gorgeous puppies if you wouldn't mind. It will only take you a second.”

“I wish I could help, ma'am.” Wolfe glanced around, but there was still no sign of Kit. He tightened his hold on the leashes. “I'm afraid my puppies aren't very good with strangers. Sorry.” He gave a little shrug to soften the refusal, but the blonde flounced off in search of new prey.

“What's wrong with her?” Kit came around the corner with Baby. Under one arm she had two boxes of puppy vitamins and a new leash.

“She wanted help to reach something. I didn't want to give her the leashes and it got her steamed.” Wolfe stared at a display with two plastic dogs that ran back and forth in a line, promoting a new brand of dog shampoo. He wasn't sure if he was amused or revolted.

“Is something wrong?” Kit frowned at him. “The other dogs didn't throw up on you, I hope.”

“No, they were great. Their training is excellent.”

“Then what? It's like you've never been in a pet store before.”

Wolfe tried to shut out the barrage of distracting stimuli. He ignored two men arguing over choke chains. He even managed to ignore a display of talking dog diapers. The truth was, he'd never been in a store that was remotely like this. Kit had no way of knowing that, of course, and he wasn't about to discuss his Foxfire training and private life with her.

He waved a hand. “It's…big,” he said.

She was still looking at him, eyes narrowed. “That's why everyone comes here to shop. One stop does it all.” She walked over to a huge pyramid display built with cat food cans. “The prices are also twenty percent cheaper than the neighborhood store. How can you beat that?”

A boy ran past her, pushing a child-size cart and racing as only an out-of-control six-year-old can run. His mother followed grimly, holding the hand of a younger boy. “Benjamin,
stop.
Come back here right now.”

The boy speeded up, his cart whipping past boxes and shelves. He was watching the talking diaper display, mesmerized, when his cart hit the pyramid of canned goods full force. The structure shook and then the top can fell sideways.

A dozen more cans shook free and plummeted, only inches away from the oblivious child.

Wolfe sprinted along the aisle. As the whole structure began to shake, he swept the boy under one arm and turned, catching the wave of falling cans against his shoulders. He also managed to grab a piece of defective metal shelving that appeared to be the cause of the problem.

All around him men were shouting and dogs were barking, but he barely noticed. He was still holding the boy against his chest when the explosion of cans hitting the floor finally stopped.

Silence fell. Then came a few muted questions. Seconds later he was surrounded by people pounding his back, asking if he was okay and was the boy hurt and how had he reacted so fast? Wolfe didn't understand why they were so concerned. He held out the boy to his mother, then tried to move away but he was caught fast as the harried woman cried and laughed at the same time, hugging her son and trying to hug Wolfe, who was at least a foot taller than she was.

Solemn and a little unsteady, the boy held out a smashed piece of candy bar. Wolfe eyed the bar, eyed the little boy, and then took a bite of the chocolate. “That's good stuff you've got there, pal. But maybe you should go back to your mommy now. I think she's worried.” He winked at the boy. “You know how women can be.”

The boy nodded gravely, his eyes huge.

When Wolfe turned to walk away, the crowd of curious onlookers parted in respectful silence. Then a man with a store uniform called out to him. “Man, you were greased lightning when you grabbed that kid. You play football or something?”

Or something.

Wolfe shrugged, uncomfortable at the attention. When he reached Kit's side, he took Butch's leash and walked toward the front of the store without looking back.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said calmly. “Can we go?”`

Kit hurried to keep up with him. “How
did
you move so fast?”

He strode down the row of cars toward her Jeep, studying the area for any unusual activity. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You know exactly what I'm talking about. But if you want to play games about it, fine,” she said flatly.

“Kit, I—”

“Never mind. You don't owe me an explanation.” Her voice tightened. “In fact, you don't owe me anything at all.” Her shoulders were straight, her body stiff as she walked past him, holding the dogs' leashes tightly.

Baby turned once, gave a quick wag of her tail and blinked her big eyes.

Almost like she was sympathizing.

Wolfe was
almost
sure that was impossible.

“W
HAT
'
S THE PROBLEM
?” Wolfe frowned as Kit pulled out of the parking lot in a hail of gravel. She was staring straight ahead, her mouth a tight line.

He couldn't figure her out. Why would she expect him to talk about what he'd done? It was simple training and reflexes, nothing that made him a hero.

Besides, he'd messed up by getting himself noticed.

“You're modest about saving that little boy, and I can understand that. But when I ask you what's wrong—
bam,
you bite my head off. Of course, I'm upset.” She took a deep breath. “Who are you, Wolfe? I look at you and I see a complete stranger.”

“You're making a big deal out of something small. Let it go, Kit.”

“The way I should have let it go years ago. Good idea.” She stared at the road and shook her head. “Where do I drop you?”

He was fascinated by the cool sheen of her skin and the emotion that filled her eyes. It was like watching the det-cord burn on an explosive fuse. You knew that you should get away fast, but some morbid fascination made you want to stay, waiting for the moment when everything blew.

He remembered now that she had always had a temper, and her brother's nonstop practical jokes hadn't helped much over the years. “You're not dropping me anywhere.”

“Think again.” She accelerated into traffic, then cut left to pass a slow-moving dairy truck. “You can get off at the next corner. There's a hotel where you can find a taxi and they're open until nine.”

The dogs were pressed up against Kit's seat. They almost seemed to be following the details of the conversation, Wolfe thought.

“Kit, look—”

“No, you look. I'm tired of whatever game you're playing. You appear in my house with a string of flimsy excuses and my dogs don't bark once, which, trust me, never happens. Then you watch the road like you're expecting something bad from any direction. Inside that store you react—well, faster than I've ever seen a person move, and when I say something about it, you glare at me. You insult me with your stories, Wolfe. No, you insult us
both.
”

He didn't speak. He couldn't say anything that she hadn't already said and he didn't want to lie to her, but he had no choice.

“And for the record, I know why you're here.” Her expression was stony. “And the answer is no.”

“You know?”

“Of course I do. The last time Trace called, he made it very clear that he wanted me to sell the ranch. He said it was too much responsibility for me, and I should move into Santa Fe.”

Trace had said that? If so, he was a fool. Anyone could see that the ranch was where Kit belonged.

On the other hand, Trace might not have looked too hard. People usually saw what they wanted to see.

She didn't wait for him to answer, plunging on. “He told me he wasn't coming back soon and I couldn't count on him for help.” She reached around to Baby, who was hovering between the seats again. “As if I didn't already know that. Of course Trace isn't coming back. His heart was never out there at the ranch.” Her voice fell. “But that doesn't mean he has the right to order me to sell. So I
know
why you're here. Trace sent you to convince me to put the ranch up for sale. But you can go right back and tell him it's
not
happening.”

“Trace hasn't said a word to me about what you should or shouldn't do. If he had, I'd have told him he was crazy. Any idiot can see this is what you're meant to do and the ranch is where you're meant to do it.”

She shot him a stricken look. “We don't owe you money, do we? I mean—has Trace borrowed from you?”

Wolfe shook his head.

“That's a relief. A few times before…” Her fingers opened and closed on the wheel, and he sensed how it hurt her to bring up the whole issue of her finances. She and Trace were similar in that way, both stubborn and proud to a fault.

The silence was broken by the shrill ring of her cell phone. She grabbed it quickly. “Hello?”

Wolfe turned slightly so he could listen in. The caller appeared to be her friend Miki again.

“We just left the pet store. No, forget it.” Kit's voice tightened. “We'll discuss that later.” She turned her head away from him, frowning. “I need to go, Miki. I'm driving.” There was another pause. “What kind of car? Where?” The frown between her eyes grew. “How long has it been there?” She darted a quick glance in Wolfe's direction. “You'd better lock your doors, then call the police.”

“What's wrong?”

“Hold on, Miki.” She stared at the dark line of distant mountains, their ridges veiled by clouds. “There's some kind of van parked two houses away from her. It's been there all day, according to her neighbor, but no one on the street's having any work done.”

“Tell her to get the license plate,” Wolfe said. “Is there anyone inside?” He pulled out his cell phone, dialing Izzy while Kit shot his question back to her friend.

“There's no one in the front that you can see. Okay, Miki, give me the plate number.” She rattled the numbers back to Wolfe, then pressed the phone against her chest. “Have you gotten us in some kind of trouble?”

“Pull in at the next turn. There's a restaurant on the right.”

Her face was tense as she drove into the expansive entrance of a French restaurant with a marble driveway and about fifty valet parking attendants.

“Give me a minute.” Wolfe opened his door, dialing Izzy. As he got out, he waved off an eager attendant. “Izzy? Yeah, we've got problems. There's a van parked over at the friend's house.” He repeated the plate number quietly. “No sign of a driver and the neighbors say no work is being done there.”

He heard the click of a keyboard.

“Not to worry. He's one of ours. I put him there this morning, just in case.”

“Move him and shift cars. He's been made. It seems to be a tight-knit community and people notice stuff like this. Miki certainly did.”

“I'm on it.”

The line went dead.

Wolfe realized Kit was staring at him. She wasn't going to buy anything but the truth, which he was under orders not to tell her. But Cruz was somewhere close, already in pursuit. Wolfe's instincts told him that they hadn't been all that smart, only lucky so far. One more reason he wasn't going to stay too long in one place.

Thanks to his glare, the valet staff was keeping a safe distance. He rubbed his neck, then walked around to Kit's side.

“What's going on?” she demanded.

“Look, I'll tell you what I can. Things are a little complicated right now.”

“Complicated how?” She looked down as his pager began to vibrate in his front pocket. “What's that?”

Wolfe checked the LED and looked north, studying the road. Izzy had signaled him to get moving. They would meet as soon as Kit reached Miki's house. “We need to go, Kit.”

“Go
where?
Aren't you going to answer any of my questions?”

“I'd prefer if you let me drive.”

“You don't think I can handle this car? I've been driving Jeeps on the ranch since I was ten.”

“It's not a question of competence, but training. I've been trained in close pursuit and evasion.”

She didn't move, staring at him in the blue twilight. “Are you telling me that we may be pursued?”

He swept a glance across the parking lot and checked the busy highway nearby. “I'm telling you that I'd prefer to drive.”

She sat stiffly, her eyes wary. “What was in that page you just got?”

“Later.”

“You're on some kind of mission, aren't you? Tell me the truth, Wolfe.”

“Later. We need to go now, Kit.”

After a deep breath she slid out of the car reluctantly and went around to the passenger side. Within three minutes they were back in the heavy flow of Santa Fe's weekend traffic.

Neither one spoke.

He headed north, away from the commercial strip. As the traffic thinned, he took a sharp left, watching to see if any cars followed.

None did.

Trees lined the road above steep irrigation canals to right and left. Waist-high reeds rose like spikes against the fading light.

Wolfe heard the drone of a big motor, coming fast. When he looked back, headlights cut through the darkness. It was possible that the lights behind them belonged to a rancher coming back from Albuquerque with a month's feed supply, nothing more.

Like hell it was. How many ranchers drove a late-model Hummer?

Without drawing his eyes from the rearview mirror, he dug the cell phone out of his front pocket and punched a button. “We're on Highway 180, and we just got company. Black Hummer with Missouri plates, number Bravo Foxtrot 6214.” He lowered his voice. “I saw it back at the pet store, and I'm pretty sure it was parked one block over at the vet's clinic today, too.”

Kit started to ask a question, then stopped, her mouth thinning to a tight line.

Wolfe rang off, calculating their options as he glanced into the rearview mirror. “Do these irrigation canals continue on both sides of us?”

“For another two miles, at least.” Her voice was stiff and angry. “After that it's pretty deserted.”

“Get the dogs into the front seat.” He put one hand on her knee and squeezed briefly. “After I pull around that next hill, I'm going to stop. You and the dogs need to drop down beside the canal and stay out of sight.” He shrugged off his dark jacket. “Put this on. No noise until I come back—no matter what you hear or see.”

The lights were closer. She pulled on Wolfe's jacket quickly and called the dogs one by one into the front, squeezed against her feet and lap.

“Give me your sweater,” he ordered quietly. When she handed it over, Wolfe pulled it around his shoulders, so that the red wool would be visible from the side window. “Do you have some kind of sun hat in here?”

He took the battered circle of straw that she found behind her seat and tugged the hat down over his eyes. “You can't let them see you, Kit. Not you, not the dogs.”

“We can manage.” She gave him a tight smile. “What about you?”

“Don't worry about me. Just keep yourself and the dogs out of sight. No noise. No movement.” He took the curve fast, the Jeep fishtailing over gravel. As they climbed, the road lay behind them, a narrow ribbon against the gathering darkness. The Hummer was steadily closing the distance.

“Ready?”

She nodded.

“Now.”
He slammed on the brakes as soon as they cleared the hill, out of sight of the Hummer. Kit wrenched open her door and jumped out with the dogs right behind her, tails wagging as if it was another training game.

“Heel,” Kit ordered, skidding down the muddy bank toward the dark reeds and the faint silver gleam of water.

As soon as Wolfe saw that she was safe, he floored the Jeep and roared off.

 

A
LL SHE COULD SEE
was a black screen of reeds.

Shivering in the sudden cold, Kit pulled the dogs around her. They huddled close, sinking down into the muddy water.

Abruptly, car lights cut through the darkness. A black Hummer raced past, and she had a blurred glimpse of two figures inside.

Cold and wet, Baby's nose nudged her neck. Sundance pressed against her knees, while Butch lay against her lap. She had a sudden impression of stars blazing fiercely against the sapphire sky as her eyes adapted to the dark. Even in her fear, she felt the rugged beauty of the night in this place of isolation.

A rifle cracked. Kit realized the distant shattering sound meant someone had just blown out her Jeep's back window.