2
TEDDY SAT AT the dining table in Ed Eagle’s home, with Ed and his wife, the actress and writer Susannah Wilde, as well. The business on the sidewalk outside Eagle’s offices had been handled with dispatch by the Santa Fe police, and both Ed and Teddy had given statements.
“I’m sorry to hear about your wife’s death,” Eagle said.
“Thank you, Ed,” Teddy replied, “I was sorry to hear about it myself.”
“Of course. What brings you to Santa Fe?”
“Four wheels and a wandering nature,” Teddy replied. “For some reason I suddenly craved the open road.”
“I’m glad it brought you our way,” Ed said. “Otherwise, I might be on a slab down at the morgue.”
“I didn’t get a chance to ask you,” Teddy said, “who was the guy, and what was his beef?”
“His name is Sanchez, and his beef was that I talked his brother into taking a plea bargain of thirty years, instead of what would almost certainly have been the death penalty. Now his brother will be out in fifteen years or so, and the other Mr. Sanchez, the one with the sword, will likely be serving life, since he opposes plea bargains.”
“It was a sword?”
“A Roman sword, or a reasonable facsimile thereof. Last year Mr. Sanchez was an extra in a sword and sandal opus being shot somewhere out in the hills, and the company went back to L.A. one sword short. Except for you, they would have located it between my shoulder blades.”
“I’m glad I was there,” Teddy said.
“I’m glad you were, too,” Susannah offered. “Mind you, I’ve occasionally been tempted to do much the same thing to Ed with a steak knife, but I must have a bit more personal restraint than Mr. Sanchez.”
Everybody laughed.
“If I’d known you were here,” Ed said, “you’d be occupying our guesthouse instead of the inn. It’s not too late to make the move. We’d be delighted to have you.”
“Thank you, Ed, but I think I’ll move on in a day or two, so I won’t trouble you.”
“Do you have a destination in mind?” Ed said.
“Not yet.”
“Do you intend to pursue justice with Mrs. Dax Baxter?”
“She’s Dax Baxter’s wife? I didn’t know. In any case, I’ll let the law have its way with her.”
“I’ve made a couple of calls to L.A., and I’m afraid the law appears to have lost interest in Mrs. Baxter,” Ed said. “She was unconscious when the police arrived at the scene and she was taken to a hospital. Before she could be admitted or even regained consciousness, she had been moved to a private clinic, where she had previously been treated for drug and alcohol abuse, and by the time the police got access, her bloodstream was clear of any substance. Mr. Baxter has hired a very competent attorney, one Rex Winston, to represent her, and I’m afraid that by the time the district attorney has completed his investigation, Mrs. Baxter will have been found to have had a small stroke while driving and was already unconscious at the time of the accident.”
“So she will just walk away from killing another human being?” Teddy asked incredulously.
“That seems very likely,” Ed said. “Dax Baxter is well acquainted with the wheels upon which his city rolls and knows how and which ones to lubricate.”
“Then perhaps I should consider a civil suit?”
“Perhaps, but you should know that Mrs. Baxter, in her previous incarnation as Willa Mather, was a well-regarded actress, until her husband decided, given her history of substance abuse, that she should confine her career to red-carpet appearances in his company. She would probably regard taking the stand in her own defense as an opportunity for a comeback, and she would be a formidable witness.”
Teddy nodded. “I remember her work, and I tend to agree with your opinion of her.”
“I’m sorry I can’t be more encouraging, Billy.”
Susannah spoke up. “Or,” she said, “you could just shoot them both in the head.”
Ed smiled. “I’m afraid my wife, though she is a brilliant actress, a fine screenwriter, and an ace producer and director, would make a poor attorney. She lacks the patience.”
“Tell me, Ed,” Susannah said sweetly, “how would patience improve Billy’s situation?”
Ed shrugged. “Improvement can be hard to come by, but patience is time, and time, though it may not heal all wounds, heals some of them and usually ameliorates the rest.”
“My husband is so wise,” Susannah said with a smile.
“I appreciate both your points of view,” Teddy said, “though perhaps not equally.”
• • •
THE FOLLOWING MORNING Ed Eagle made a phone call east, where it was two hours later.
“Stone Barrington.”
“Hello, Stone, it’s Ed Eagle.”
“Ed! How are you?”
“I’m very well, thanks to a friend of yours.”
“Who and why?”
“Billy Barnett, as he is now known, and he saved me from having a long piece of sharp steel driven into my back.” Ed filled in the details.
“You are a very fortunate man to have that man come along at just the right moment.”
“I am very aware of that,” Ed said, “but I’m worried about Billy.”
“I heard from Peter what happened to his wife.”
“Perhaps you haven’t heard what’s happened since?”
“Please tell me.”
Ed brought him up to date.
“Well,” Stone said, “I tend to think that Billy would be more inclined to take Susannah’s advice over yours.”
“That had crossed my mind. Stone, it’s been a while since you’ve visited me in Santa Fe. I think the news that you were coming might cause Billy to stay on for a bit, and perhaps together we might slow him down, or perhaps even keep him out of prison.”
“Have I ever told you how Billy saved the lives of my son, Peter, and Dino’s son, Ben?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll tell you over dinner tonight,” Stone said. “Sit on Billy until I get there.”
“Call me an hour out, and I’ll meet you at the airport.”
“See you then.” Both men hung up.
• • •
STONE BUZZED JOAN.
“Yes, boss?”
“Please call Jet Aviation at Teterboro and ask them to have my airplane on the ramp in an hour, fueled to the gills, and cancel anything I might have on the books for the next week. And ask Fred to have the car out in fifteen minutes.”
“May I ask where you’re going?”
“To Santa Fe. A little vacation.”
“Consider it done.”
Stone hung up and went upstairs to pack.