“What do you mean by basic service?”
“Well, it’s like when you do an office building: you run in the lines they’ve ordered to a central box, then they complete the installation. They’ll buy a phone system from somebody like Lucent or Panasonic, and the supplier’s people will run all the lines and extensions.”
“And that’s what you did at Palmetto Gardens?”
“Well, yeah, but it was pretty elaborate. They ordered something like two thousand lines.”
“That many?”
“Well, you figure they have a few hundred houses, and what with fax machines and computers they might have, say, four lines each. Then you’ve got all the common lines—the clubhouse, shops, maintenance, security, all that. It adds up. In the case of Palmetto Gardens, the company had to open a new prefix, just for them. Nobody had ever asked for two thousand lines before. It’s like they built a small town, from scratch.” He screwed something together and placed the new phone on her desk. “There you are. All hooked up.”
“Thanks, A1.”
He went on his way.
Holly called Jackson. “Okay, I’ve got a private line.” She gave him the number.
“Does this mean I can talk dirty on the phone now?”
“Certainly not, you pervert.”
“Then what’s the point of having a private line?”
“Oh, all right, you can talk dirty.”
“Wish I could, but I’m due in court,” he said.
“Promises, promises. See you tonight.”
“Oh, I talked to my buddy at the airport. He’s shooting our pictures today, and for only twelve hundred bucks.”
“A bargain. See you tonight.” She hung up, called Ham and gave him the number. “How’s Daisy?”
“She’s okay. I think she misses you, though.”
“I’ll come out there and get her later this afternoon,” Holly said.
“Maybe I’ll get a dog of my own.”
“Good idea.”
“This one is kind of spooky.”
“How so?”
“Well, she brought me a beer yesterday.”
“She does that. You just say, ‘Daisy, bring me a beer.’”
“I didn’t say anything, she just did it.”
“Maybe you looked thirsty.”
“Probably.”
“See you later.” Holly hung up and looked at the map again. Maybe it was time she saw Jungle Trail.
CHAPTER