“Ed?”
“Yes, who’s this?”
“Ed, this is Stone Barrington, in New York. We did a little work together a few years back.”
“Of course, Stone. How are you?”
“I’m very well, thank you. I hope you are, as well.”
“I can’t complain. Business is brisk and life is sweet.”
“Well, you can’t ask for more than that. Ed, I need something done in Santa Fe, and I hope you can help me.”
“I will if I can. What do you need?”
“I need a private detective, or just somebody smart, to meet a private jet that’s going to be landing in Santa Fe in about four hours. There are three to five men aboard, and I want them followed to their destination.”
“I think I know a fellow who can handle that,” Eagle said. “Anything else he should know?”
“One of them is wanted in Florida on a fugitive warrant. The others are FBI agents, and they’ll probably be met by an FBI car.”
“A fugitive traveling with FBI agents?”
“It’s complicated. I’ll explain it when I get there.”
“You’re coming out, then?”
“I’ll leave tomorrow morning in my own airplane; probably be there in time for dinner. Can you recommend a hotel?”
“How many are you?”
“Myself and a lady cop.”
“Can you share a room?”
“You betcha.”
“Then I insist you stay with me. Call me at your fuel stop and give me an ETA, and I’ll meet you.”
“Thank you, Ed. If the destination of these parties is not local, then I’ll need to know that. It might cause a change of plan.”
“I’ll call you by eight tomorrow morning, your time, and give you my man’s report on their destination.”
“Thank you, Ed. I’ll speak to you then.” He hung up and turned to Holly. “Okay, we’re going to Santa Fe.”
“Are you sure we shouldn’t fly commercial?”
“I don’t fly commercial, except overseas.”
38
THE FOLLOWING MORNING at 7:45, Stone had just finished packing when the phone rang.
“Hello?
“Stone, it’s Ed Eagle.”
“Good morning, Ed.”