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Orchid Beach (Holly Barker 1)

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“Yeah, he is, or rather, he was. I’m satisfied that he’s not my mole, and I want him brought fully into this.”

“I understand your suspicions,” Wallace said, “but I assure you, I’ve never given any departmental information to anyone on the outside. I just want to help.”

“Okay,” Harry said, waving him to a chair. “Have a seat. Looks like dinner is ready.”

Jackson came in with a huge platter of grilled fish and set it on the table. Nobody said grace.

When the food had been consumed and the dishes stacked, Harry got down to business.

“Okay,” he said, “let’s start with our black bag job. Bill and Jim went over the fence at Westover Motors last night and nearly got eaten by a very large German shepherd.”

There was laughter around the table.

“We tranquilized the thing,” Bill said. “I expect he felt a little woozy this morning, but we removed the dart, so nobody will be the wiser, except the dog, and he’s too hung over to talk.”

“Then they got the bug installed, and it was a good job,” Harry said. “We’ve got a recorder on the frequency, and we check it every few hours. Same with the walkie-talkie frequencies that Palmetto Gardens is using.” The driveway chime rang, and Harry stopped. “That’ll be Rita,” he said.

“Who’s Rita?” Jackson asked.

“You’re about to find out.” Harry stood up and walked to the door in time to meet a young woman at the door. She was no more than five-two, slim but shapely, with big, curly hair, dressed in tight jeans and a sweater.

“Jackson, Holly, Hurd, this is Rita Morales, from our office.”

Everybody waved, and so did Rita. They made room for her at the table.

“You eat?” Harry asked.

“McDonald’s,” she replied. “Smells better here.”

“No more McDonald’s,” Jackson said. “The best grub in town is at my house.”

“How’d it go today?” Harry asked.

“I’m hired. I start tomorrow morning. I have to be at the service gate at seven.”

“Do you know where you’ll be working?”

She shook her head, making her curly hair shake. “They wouldn’t say. Said I’d be assigned somewhere tomorrow morning, and it wouldn’t necessarily be the same assignment every day. They put me through a kind of indoctrination this afternoon at the employment office, along with three other women.”

“What kind of indoctrination?”

“Everything is strict: we wear a uniform, we don’t speak unless spoken to, we don’t hobnob with any other employees. We can’t make or receive phone calls, and no cellulars are allowed; they said we’d be searched.”

“Don’t take a badge or a gun in there,” Harry said.

“No kidding, Harry? I thought I’d wear an FBI jacket and body armor.”

“All right, all right, I just don’t want you to get your—”

“Tit in a wringer?” She turned to Holly. “You see what a woman has to put up with in the Bureau?” she said. “They’re all Neanderthals.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Rita,” Harry said. “What else?”

“That’s about it. You’ve finally turned me into a domestic servant, Harry. What’s next? Turning tricks?”

Harry turned red. “Rita, I wouldn’t send you in there if anybody else could do it.”

“Well, that’s a ringing endorsement of my abilities,” she replied.



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