The Woman (24 page)

“Yeah. Yeah. That’s good. Sure. One hundred, I can do that.”

“One more thing, who did Charlie work for?”

“Search me. I don’t know. Really I don’t. Charlie never told me shit.”

“Thank Charlie. He just saved your life. Go home, Bobby. Get out of this business. You’re no good at it. It’ll get you killed.”

Testler got back in his car, downshifted hard, stomped on the gas pedal to squeeze back into the traffic, leaving two exclamations of rubber to cool on the dry black pavement.

After reaching the highest speed he dare go without attracting attention, he tried the RF receiver, but Linda Darby’s car was too far ahead on this winding road. For now, the interstate offered no viable alternatives for Linda. He would pick up what distance he could without attracting the attention of any cops. Hopefully, if he gained some miles, by the time they got out of the mountains his receiver would hear from her transmitter.

* * *

Later that day, after driving through the twin cities of Marysville-Yuba City, not far north of Sacramento, Testler again turned on his receiver. He got no response, but decided to leave it on. He had no better plan so he stayed with what he had decided earlier. Continue south, keeping the speedometer at no more than five miles above the posted speed limit.

As he drove, he kept track of the passing traffic on the off chance Linda had decided to turn around and backtrack north. If she did, the RF receiver would report when she got into its range. To this point, Linda’s movements had all seemed thought out so he could think of no reason she would veer off onto one of the crossing state or county roads. Not if Vegas was her destination. This meant the lack of a radio frequency reading could only be the result of too much distance for the transmitter on her car and the receiver in his to share their electronic banter. He put two pieces of spearmint gum in his mouth and turned on the radio. Eventually, she would stop to sleep at a roadside motel or in her car at a rest stop. When she did, he would hear the familiar pinging.

It was nearly eleven, California time, when Ryan decided to call Webster’s secure phone in his Virginia home where it would be two in the morning.

“It’s me. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No,” Webster said. “What’s the latest from Sea Crest?”

“Nothing. Like I told you, Chief McIlhenny has let it be known he’s going fishing Tuesday, that still looks like our best plan. I’m set, just restless. Have you heard from Charlie? Is he still hanging on the woman’s tail?”

“He called this morning,” Webster said. “She spent last night in a motel in some Godforsaken place called Weed, California. Where in hell did these pioneers come up with the God-awful names they pinned on some of these jerkwater towns? Anyway, Charlie got into her car last night while she was sleeping and, on the front seat, he found a western states map with two cities circled: Las Vegas, Nevada, and Sedona, Arizona. When he called this morning, she was on the road south. He figured Las Vegas to be her next destination. I told him to stay on her and check in with me when they got to Vegas or sooner if something changed.”

“Why don’t I fly over to Vegas,” Testler suggested, “and see if I can find her? I don’t need to be here in Sea Crest now. In fact, that would be better. I could slip back in early Tuesday before the sun comes up, take care of McIlhenny and be out of town with the locals unaware I had come back.”

“Let me think on that,” Webster said. “I’m going to catch some sleep, then I’ll call Charlie. After that, I’ll call you. In retrospect, I should have let him take her in Weed. I still don’t like this hanging back until next week.”

“Relax, Mr. Webster. We’re on the best course. Why don’t I head over to Vegas?”

“No. I want you there in case McIlhenny goes weird on us. In any event, hold off until I talk to Charlie after I wake up. Either way, I’ll call you in six hours.”

Ryan hung up knowing that Webster had no more information about Linda than what Ryan had learned from Bobby Vargas, which meant, with Charlie eliminated and Bobby scared off, Webster was now totally dependent upon Testler for information.

It happened with Sacramento in Testler’s rearview mirror and the flatter central valley of California ahead. A solo ping, then, a moment later, another, quickly followed by a steady rhythm. He smiled at the thought of his receiver as the female chastising her man with the message men so often heard from their women: you could have at least called.

Over the next few miles the ping continued steadily. Then he saw a sign: rest stop three miles. He pulled in and found Linda’s car headed into a parking space, unoccupied unless she was lying over onto the seat, asleep. He looked about and saw her on foot weaving her way through the black, metal barbeques and concrete picnic tables randomly placed around a central building that housed the restrooms.

Testler parked about ten spaces south of her car and took the opportunity to go to the men’s room. He hadn’t pissed all day, but he hadn’t drank anything either. When he got back to his car, he opened a bottle of water and ate the cinnamon roll he had brought from Weed, also a Snickers bar from his glove box. A half hour later he decided Linda had gone to sleep. He reversed his car’s direction so he was backed in. This position had him facing east so the rising sun would strike his face, waking him before Linda woke as her car was parked head-in, putting the morning sun at her back. He pulled his hat down and tugged his collar up, crossed his arms, and fell asleep in minutes.

* * *

The sun woke Testler at six A.M. He got out of his car at the rest stop, tugged his hat low and, with his head down, walking with a feigned limp passed close enough to Linda’s car to determine she was still asleep behind the wheel. Next, he headed for the men’s room to satisfy man’s primal need to piss soon after waking.

Back in his car, while he waited for Linda to head out, his phone rang.

“Testler. I haven’t heard from Charlie. His phone is not working. I need you to get on over to Vegas. Find them. I don’t know what’s happened to Charlie and his man. You might need to handle this dame yourself.”

“Like always, whatever it takes. I’m on my way, sir.”

Testler hung up and smiled. And you won’t be hearing from Charlie, Mr. Webster. It will take the local authorities days to get to Charlie’s Pontiac and when they do they won’t be unable to identify him, at least not for a long while.

Twenty minutes later, he watched Linda go and come from the ladies room. After that he followed her back onto I-5. They had about ten hours of driving to reach Las Vegas.

Chapter 37

At seven-thirty-two P.M. precisely, Testler followed Linda into the blacktopped canyon of neon signs and walls of glass known as the Las Vegas strip. No city slept, at least not like people sleep. But cities do turn their lights down and rest in their own way during the wee hours. That is, cities other than Las Vegas. Vegas is never asleep. The lights, the glitz, the winners, the losers, the live entertainers who work on their feet and those who work on their backs, all go nonstop. They say that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. That was certainly true for money, most of which stayed in Vegas. Money was the grease that kept all the necessary wheels turning to provide what the folks came to Vegas to do, escape from or cheat on their routine lives.

Ten minutes later, Linda pulled into the lot for the MGM Grand.

* * *

Testler liked her choice. The large crowds and greater security which came complete with cameras and guards everywhere would lessen the chances of someone trying to capture her or possibly remove her from the hotel.

* * *

Linda parked as close as she could to the entrance of the MGM Grand casino and entered. She had not slept much the night before and needed at least a short nap. After paying cash at the desk for one night she went up to a Jr. suite where she set the alarm for one hour then slipped under the soft sheets and let herself go.

* * *

Linda woke to the sounds of four lanes of traffic and the shrill cry of an ambulance. She wanted to stay right where she was, but she hadn’t eaten a solid meal in more than twenty-four hours. After showering, she dressed in a pair of black slacks and a matching tank top with a silver chain belt and heels, high but not too high.

She walked through the casino, stopping to look at the posters for the lead attraction, David Copperfield, and for the Crazy Horse Paris show. Along the way, she watched waves of winners and losers darting in and out from the slots and tables like hobbled prey retreating but not escaping the relentless lure of the mechanical wolves who smelled the blood on their wallets. Then she walked into the Grand’s Nob Hill Tavern where she first ordered a glass of white wine. After the wine arrived, she ordered a Maine Lobster Pot Pie that came with baby vegetables.

* * *

“Hello, Linda. It’s nice to see you again.”

Her head snapped up as she turned toward the voice. “Ahab.”

Testler laughed softly. “Yes. Ahab. May I join you for dinner?”

“Where did you come from? . . . Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Now don’t be ungrateful. If I had left you alone . . . well, you don’t want to know what would have happened. Leave it to say that we wouldn’t be here having dinner together.”

“How long have you been with me?”

“Always.”

“What does always mean?”

“Not important. I’m here now. You’re safe. Let’s just have a nice dinner?”

The waiter approached. “Will you be joining the lady for dinner?” He held a table setting for one more.

“Yes,” Testler said. The waiter started placing the setting on the table then stopped when Linda said, “No. The gentleman is leaving.”

“Give us a minute, please,” Testler said, handing the waiter a twenty.

After the waiter left, Ryan leaned close to Linda. “If I had not been with you in Weed, the night before last, you could have been taken by the two men who followed you. They are no longer a threat. You were again vulnerable while you slept in your car at the rest stop last night, south of Sacramento. I watched over you.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I’ll tell you over dinner.” Testler motioned for the waiter standing about twenty feet away, still holding the place setting.

The waiter came over, hesitated, and looked at Linda. She nodded. He set the placing on the table and left. Testler snapped his fingers. The waiter did an about face.

“Has the lady ordered?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll have the same thing, exactly the same.”

The waiter left and a moment later another member of the wait staff stopped to fill his water glass.

“For starters,” Linda said, “I’m tired of you smirking every time I call you Ahab. So what’s your name?”

“You can call me Ryan. And what should I call you? Linda? Nora Larick? Carol Benson? Who are you tonight?”

“You think this is just one big game, don’t you?”

“There are elements of a game. But a deadly, serious game, I admit.”

“Is Ryan your real name?”

“Not important. It’s all you need.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that your habit of avoiding questions and saying ‘not important’ is rude and annoying?”

“Not important.”

“All right then, Ryan. Tell me about all of it. You said you would over dinner.”

“Dinner isn’t here yet.”

“Start now,” she said, downing the last of her Sauvignon blanc.

“Where should I begin? Okay. There is this man. Cynthia’s letters told you his name. So, Alistair Webster used your friend Cynthia to gather information he then used to leverage certain government officials into altering their normal regulatory processes according to the interests of his paying clients.”

“What is your role in all this?”

When Ryan caught the waiter’s eye, he moved his index finger back and forth between Linda’s empty wine glass and his own. The waiter nodded.

“You still haven’t told me which name you are using here at the hotel. My guess is you’re registered as Nora Larick. Correct?”

“What makes you think that?”

“You’re a smart lady buying your stocks and bonds, but you’re in my market now. The car Cynthia left for you is registered to Larick. I figure you’d figure it would be best if your hotel registration matched the car registration. You’d also elect to get comfortable with one persona, reserving the others for the banks and other special needs.”

“Damn you. You make all my planning seem infantile.”

“To the contrary, you are actually doing quite well for a novice. You were particularly effective dispatching the man who came for you in Sea Crest. That took talent and a cool head. I’m proud of you.”

“You know about that?”

“Until now, I wasn’t certain.”

The waiter brought Linda a fresh wine and Ryan a first one. When the waiter started to leave, Ryan grabbed his arm, gulped down his glass of wine and ordered a dry martini with a pearl onion. “You mean a Gibson, sir?” asked the waiter. “Yes,” Ryan answered. The waiter left.

“As I was saying, you are actually doing quite well. But we only die once. You saved yourself that one time in the surf. I’ve saved you twice. It would certainly be easier if we worked closer together. Doing that would also increase my chances of being near you at the right time.”