Hothouse Orchid (4 page)

7

H
olly slept a lot for the rest of the day, and the following morning she went to her favorite grocery and got the makings for dinner. She went home and prepared osso bucco, which she had first had at Elaine’s with Stone Barrington. She left it to cook for four hours, then set the table and laid out the pans and ingredients for the rest of dinner. By noon, she was done. Holly liked to be prepared.

She had a sandwich for lunch, and shortly afterward Hurd Wallace called. “Jimmy Weathers took me aside at the station yesterday and told me what happened to you,” he said. “Are you all right?”

“Sure, Hurd. I’m feeling very well. I’ve got a cut on my head that has to heal but nothing else. Thanks for asking.”

“I knew about the two earlier cases, of course, but we’ve been unable to come up with anything, not even a description from the victims. I had to leave that in the hands of Jimmy and Jim Bruno.”

“Has he started work?”

“Yes. I introduced him to the department yesterday, and he gave them the sort of pep talk you said he would.”

“I’ve heard some version of it many times,” she said.

“I briefed him on our open cases, including the two rapes, but he didn’t seem much interested.”

“He’s interested in other people doing his job for him—God knows, I did his work for two years. He likes golf and tennis more than work. The good news is, he won’t get in the way much.”

“I’m going to keep in touch with half a dozen officers and get their readings as time passes.”

“Good. Have you started your new job yet?”

“I’m sitting at my desk now,” Hurd said. “I’ve got some unpacking and settling in to do, and then my people are going to start looking into these rapes. Problem is, we need a request from Bruno to get involved.”

“Call him and ask him; he’d love to have you involved. But if you clear the case, he’ll manage to take the credit.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hurd said. He gave her his new office and cell numbers. “Call me if you remember anything about the other night. Or if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Hurd, I’ll do that.” She said goodbye and hung up.

Shortly after seven, the phone rang, and Holly picked it up. “Hello?”

“It’s Josh Harmon; I’m at your very formidable gate.”

“Hang on,” she said. She tapped the code into the phone and hung up.

Shortly, Josh appeared at the front door, holding two bottles of wine. Daisy took an immediate but polite interest in him.

“You have a formidable dog as well as a gate,” he said, handing her the wines. He turned his attention to Daisy. After a little introductory affection, she brought him a tennis ball.

“That means you’re friends now,” Holly said.

“I can’t believe he’s a watchdog, too.”

“She. And she’s a very well-trained watchdog. But, if you behave yourself, I won’t have to give her the kill command.”

“That’s a relief,” Josh said.

“Drink?”

“Scotch?”

“You ever drink bourbon?”

“Only under duress.”

She poured him a Knob Creek. “You have to drink one of these; after that, you can have anything you like.”

“Oh, all right,” he said, taking a sip. “Not bad.”

“Faint praise,” she said.

“Give me time. What smells good?”

“Osso buco; it’s been in the oven all afternoon. I’ll make risotto before dinner.” She poured herself a drink. “Let’s sit outside for a while.”

Josh walked to the sliding door to the beach and opened it with difficulty. “Wow,” he said, “that’s one heavy door.” He looked closely at the glass. “Now,
that
is what I’d call major hurricane protection. It must be an inch thick.”

“An inch and a half,” Holly said.

“May I ask why?”

“Courtesy of my employer. They like for their people to be well protected.”

They sat down in deck chairs. “And who might your employer be? I’ve no idea what you do.”

“Hardly anybody does,” Holly said.

“Does that mean I’m not supposed to ask?”

“Probably.”

“All right. I’ll respect your privacy and keep my nose out of your employment.”

They sat and watched the evening light on the sea for about a minute.

“All right,” he said. “What do you do, and who do you do it for?”

Holly had to make a decision; usually she told people she was an official at the Department of Agriculture, which pretty much prevented any further conversation, but she liked him, and it wasn’t strictly against the rules to tell someone where she worked. “I work at the CIA,” she said. “I’m an assistant deputy director of Operations.”

He looked at her sideways. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

“I kid you not.”

“What does an assistant . . . whatever that title is . . . do?”

“At the top is the director of Central Intelligence,” she said. “Under her are the two principal deputy directors: one for Intelligence, one for Operations. The Directorate of Intelligence deals with analysis—many, many analysts working on information from all over the world. The Directorate of Operations runs spies all over the world.”

“Are you supposed to be telling me this stuff? Because, if you’re not . . . Oh the hell with it, keep talking.”

“I haven’t told you anything that the brochure for the Agency won’t tell you.”

“So, you’re a spy?”

“I’m trained to be, but essentially I’m an administrator.”

“That’s not what your title says. It says you’re the assistant head spy.”

“One of a few assistant deputy directors. I’m not sure I’m supposed to tell you how many.”

“I’m not sure I want to know. You did say you were trained to be a spy?”

“There’s a place, Fort Peary, in Virginia, commonly called the Farm, where prospective officers are sent for a considerable period of time and punished in all sorts of ways, not to mention trained in all sorts of ways.”

“May one ask about the punishment and the training?”

“One is punished with long runs over difficult terrain and physical training of all kinds, especially self-defense.”

“Killing with a single blow? Like that?”

“Like that.”

“And the other training?”

“One may not know about that.” She took his empty glass. “Can I get you a Scotch?”

“I think I’ll have another bourbon.”

“It’s the patriotic thing to do,” she said.

8

H
olly started the risotto, then handed Josh the wooden spoon. “Now you work,” she said. “Just keep pouring in the stock, a little at a time, and constantly stir until the rice absorbs it all, then add more stock, et cetera, et cetera, until it’s all gone.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to set the table, then watch you, to see if you have any stamina at all. I guess risotto must be the most physically demanding of all cooking chores.”

“I have stamina,” he said.

“Don’t tell me; show me.” She set the table and got out her good Baccarat wineglasses, then returned to the kitchen. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing just great,” he said, “but I’m getting a blister between my thumb and forefinger.”

“Chef’s hazard; switch hands.”

He did so. “This better be delicious when it’s done,” he said.

“It will be delicious after I add the final ingredients,” she said, going to the refrigerator to fetch them.

“You used to be chief of police in Orchid Beach, didn’t you?”

“That’s right.”

“Were you always a cop?”

“I was a military cop from the age of eighteen for twenty years, and don’t start doing the arithmetic for my age.”

“Oh, I think I can figure that out without arithmetic,” he said, continuing to add stock and stir.

“You’d better not,” she said. “Remember, I can kill with a single blow, and Daisy is trained to attack genitals.”

Josh winced. “I’m fifty,” he said. “Let’s forget your age.”

“What a good idea,” she said. “All right, I have to add the final ingredients, now,” she said.

“And what are they?”

“Crème fraîche and grated Parmesan cheese—Parmigiano-Reggiano, the real thing.”

“I thought Parmesan cheese came from Wisconsin.”

“Wash your mouth out with soap, then taste this.” She held up a pinch of the grated cheese for him to taste.

“Mmmm, tangy!”

“Exactly. Now will you set the iron skillet on the dining table, on the trivet, please, not on the nice wood.”

He did as he was told, then came back. “Anything else?”

“There’s a corkscrew over there,” she said, pointing to a drawer. “You can open the red wine.” She got a potholder and carried the copper risotto pot to the table and set it down. “I think we’re ready,” she said.

He held her chair for her. “I’m certainly ready; I never got around to eating lunch today.” He sat down, poured a little wine and tasted it. “I think we’ll drink it,” he said, pouring them both a glass.

“Okay,” she said. “Your turn. Full bio, please.”

“Okay. Born Delano, Georgia, fifty years ago, to a small-town general practitioner and his nurse. Educated local schools, then at the University of Georgia, Emory Medical School in Atlanta. Interned at Georgia Baptist Hospital, then did a residency in surgery at Emory Hospital. Practiced general surgery for fifteen years, then did a two-week stretch in the trauma center at Piedmont Hospital, subbing for a friend. Loved the ER, got a job there, and I’ve been doing emergency medicine ever since.”

“Why do you like it?”

“Variety, intensity, a constant challenge to diagnose and treat quickly, and you don’t have time to form a bond with your patients, so when they die it isn’t the kind of personal loss it is if you’ve been treating them for weeks or months.”

“My, but you’re a sensitive soul.”

“Watching people die while trying to prevent them from doing so is not fun, but it’s less painful if you’re not acquainted with them.”

“Okay, I buy that. Who’s your least favorite patient to treat?”

“A rape victim,” he replied without hesitation. “That’s why I was so glad you weren’t raped.”

“On behalf of rape victims, I thank you.”

“You were raped before?”

“No, but someone has tried twice. Daisy dealt with the would-be rapist the first time, and I got lucky the second, when that young couple arrived in time to scare the guy off.”

“Ex-cop that you are, are you going to try to catch the guy?”

“So far, I’m just keeping in touch with the investigation through old acquaintances,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind the opportunity to stick a nine-millimeter in his ear, though.”

“Would you pull the trigger?”

“Probably not, but my father would.”

“Ham? That’s his name?”

“Yep.”

“He looked like retired military.”

“An old first sergeant, tough as boot leather, but squishy soft if you work your way inside far enough.”

“His wife seemed nice.”

“Yes. Ginny taught me to fly.”

“That’s something I’ve thought I’d like to try,” he said.

“I’ll introduce you. She’s a first-rate instructor and has her own flying school at the Vero Beach airport.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

“How’d you come to be working in Orchid Beach?” she asked.

“Heard about it on the grapevine, liked the idea of a warm winter. With my skills, it’s easy to work wherever you want to. There’s lots of demand for good ER physicians. I’ve been here eight months, and I like it.”

“Where do you live?”

“I’m renting a house in Vero at the Orchid Island development. I have an option to buy.”

“Good golf there.”

“Yes, you play?”

“Yes, but I haven’t had time for a few years. I’d like to play while I’m here.”

“I’ll arrange it. How long will you be in town?”

“My boss told me not to come back for a month.”

They finished dinner, and Holly served them ice cream, then they took coffee in the living room. The door to the beach was still open, and they could hear the waves lapping at the beach.

“Nice house,” he said.

“I inherited it,” she replied, settling next to him on the sofa.

“From whom?”

“My late fiancé. He was a local lawyer. He went into a local bank the day before our wedding to get some cash for our honeymoon and wound up in the middle of a bank robbery. He got in the way of a shotgun.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“So am I, but enough time has passed that it hurts less than it used to.”

“Were you ever married?”

“No. How about you?”

“Once, twenty years ago, to a nurse. Lasted three years.”

They sat quietly, sipping their coffee, listening to the sea.

9

H
olly felt his naked body slide down hers, until his head was in her lap, face down. His tongue did wonderful things, and then she climaxed.

S
he woke alone, with Daisy sitting beside the bed staring at her. Josh had given her a prim good-night kiss the night before and had left her randier than he knew. It was the first wet dream she had ever had.

The phone rang, startling her. She grabbed at the sheet to cover herself, in case Lance was on the line, then she picked it up. “Hello?”

“Holly?” A woman’s voice.

“Yes.”

“It’s Annie Ryan.”

Annie was a female officer on the Orchid Beach force, one Holly remembered fondly. “Hello, Annie, how are you?”

“I’m not sure,” Annie replied. “Would you mind if I stop by this morning and talk with you?”

“Not at all,” Holly replied. “Any time after, say, ten?”

“Ten fifteen?”

“See you then.” Holly explained about the gate and hung up. She showered, dressed, fed Daisy and let her out, then made herself some breakfast. She was still on coffee when the phone rang, and Holly saw the gate button light come on. She buzzed Annie in and found another coffee mug.

Annie Ryan was a petite redhead, maybe five-two, who looked very good in her tailored uniform. Holly poured her a cup of coffee and sat her down on a counter stool.

“I see you made sergeant,” Holly said, gesturing at the stripes.

“Yes, last year. I’m a supervisor on the day shift now.”

“I’ll bet you’re a good one, too,” Holly said. “What did you want to see me about?”

“It’s this Colonel James Bruno,” she said.

“Ah, yes.”

“Jimmy Weathers told me about your experience with him in the army.”

“Good. I wanted all the female officers to know about him.”

“Well, I guess we do, now,” Annie said. “It’s just that we’re not quite sure how to handle him. I mean, the guy is our chief, after all.”

“My advice is, be pleasant but not friendly; keep him at arm’s length, and don’t ever get into a car with him alone. Always have a witness.”

“Does he have a thing about cars?”

“Apart from having a shot at me,” Holly said, “which I was able to fight off, he raped a young woman lieutenant, and he did it in a car.”

Annie was quiet for a moment. “If we do like you say, will that be enough to keep him off us?”

“I think it will, if you never give him an inch, if you never let him cross the line without calling him on it. I realize you’re walking a fine line here, but you have to give him the respect of his rank while seeing that he returns that respect. Believe me, he will take any display of friendship or warmth the wrong way.”

“How did this guy manage to spend thirty years in the military while getting away with that?”

“My guess is that his problem was sublimated for a long time. He had a nice wife, and after she died of breast cancer he started to get too friendly with female soldiers. He played on the sympathy he got from his wife’s death, used that to get friendly with women, then abused them.”

“Okay, I’ll have a talk with the other women.”

“You can protect each other,” Holly said.

“I guess that’s what we’ll do,” Annie said. The radio on her belt squawked, and she answered the call. “I’d better get going,” she said. “One of my shift has arrested two men on a drug charge after a traffic stop, and I need to cover that.”

“You go ahead,” Holly said, “and feel free to call me if you need to talk.”

Annie got back into her patrol car and headed back up the driveway.

Holly was glad to have talked to her. She wished she had had somebody to talk to when she was dealing with Bruno.

She cleaned up the kitchen, polishing the copper risotto pan she’d used the night before, then realized that, in spite of her shopping trip for dinner, she had little else to eat in the house. She made a list and drove into Orchid Beach to the market.

Holly had been in the store for a minute when she heard a woman’s voice behind her.

“Major Barker?”

She turned and saw a young woman with short, blond hair, wearing the Florida State Patrol uniform with sergeant’s stripes. “Yes?”

“You don’t recognize me, do you?”

Suddenly, the penny dropped. She was the lieutenant James Bruno had raped—Lauren Cade. “Lauren!” Holly said. “I’m sorry, the uniform and the haircut threw me off, and nobody has called me major for a long time.” They shook hands.

“I’d heard you were chief in Orchid Beach after you retired,” Lauren said, “but I thought you had left town.”

“That’s true,” Holly replied. “I’m working in Virginia now; I’m just back for a little while on vacation. I still have a house here.”

“I left the army a year after you did,” Lauren said. “I came to Florida for the weather, had a couple of nothing jobs to pay the rent, then I applied to the State Patrol and was accepted. I made sergeant a few months ago.”

“Congratulations,” Holly said.

“I just came in here to get a sandwich for lunch.”

“Why don’t we have lunch together, if you have the time?” Holly said.

“Thanks. I’d like that.”

They went to a deli a couple of doors down from the market, found a table and ordered sandwiches.

“Is Orchid Beach a regular part of your patrol duty?” Holly asked.

“Yes, I’m through here every day.”

“Lauren, have you heard the latest about Jim Bruno?”

Her face hardened. “Do I want to?”

“I think you’d better hear this; he’s the new chief in Orchid, my old job.”

Her face fell. “No, I hadn’t heard that.”

“I thought it best to tell you before you ran into him.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it. I’m sorry to hear he’s in the state, let alone on my beat.”

“I’d hate to see you have to transfer somewhere else just to avoid him,” Holly said.

“Not likely,” Lauren replied. “I just bought a house; I’m dug in here. I’ve applied to a new investigative unit that’s going to be based in Vero Beach. Haven’t heard anything yet.”

“The one that Hurd Wallace is running?”

“Yes, that’s the one. Do you know him?”

“He was my deputy chief when I was in Orchid. I’d be happy to put in a word for you, if you like.”

“Oh, yes, that would be great!” Lauren said. “What’s Captain Wallace like?”

“Good guy; no worries there. He came to see me to tell me about Bruno, said he would have done what he could to block his appointment if he’d known earlier who he was.”

They changed the subject and chatted through lunch, then Holly said goodbye and went back to the market to complete her shopping. When she was back in her car, she called Hurd Wallace and recommended Lauren Cade highly. He said he’d interview her.