Hothouse Orchid (Holly Barker 6)

“That means you’re a normal human being, Ham-well, fairly normal-and our guy isn’t. He’s all twisted up inside.”

“You think it’s Jim Bruno, don’t you?”

“Right now, he’s the only suspect, but I haven’t decided he’s the one. He needs to get tied to one of these cases directly, with some hard evidence.”

“You ever miss being a cop?” Ham asked.

“Sometimes; it has the virtue of resolution: you solve a crime and send somebody to prison. The work I do now, the victories take longer, mostly. You get a short-term thrill now and then, when an operation goes just the way you hoped it would, but not very often.”

“I know what you mean,” Ham said. “In Vietnam, you had a good day or a bad day. You couldn’t think a month ahead, because in a month you might be on the other guy’s KIA list.”

Ginny came out back to join them, a sheet of paper in her hand. She handed it to Holly. “They faxed me the specs on an airplane that’s sitting out on the ramp at the airport,” she said. “Take a look. It’s loaded with the latest of just about everything. They took a big deposit on it, but the guy got hurt in the market, and he can’t close the sale.”

Holly read the list carefully, trying to imagine each piece of equipment on the airplane. “Wow,” she breathed. “This is a dream machine. How much?”

“How about a hundred and fifty grand off list?” Ginny asked. “I talked to the seller, and he’s highly motivated; he wants to get his deposit back, and he’s willing to take a loss to do that. The factory wants the rest of their money, too, so they’re chipping in so

mething.”

“Tell them yes,” Holly said. She looked at her watch. “I can get the money wired here today. Do you think we could buy it through your flying school? I don’t want an expensive airplane registered in my name right now. It might raise questions with my employer.”

“Sure, I guess so.” Ginny went and got her checkbook, ripped one out and handed it to Holly. “You can wire the funds to this account.”

Holly made a note of the information, then went inside and called her bank in the Caymans. She entered her account number and two passwords, then tapped in the amount and the receiving account number and routing code. A computerized voice repeated the information to her, she confirmed it, then she was asked to speak a code sentence. She did so, and the computer confirmed her identity and authorized the transaction. Holly returned to the porch. “The money’s on its way.”

“You want to go look at the airplane?” Ginny asked.

“Sure!”

They drove to the airport in two cars, so Holly wouldn’t have to drive Ginny back, and she followed Ginny onto the field to a ramp outside the Piper factory where three airplanes were parked. A man was waiting next to a Malibu Mirage with the keys, and he opened it up for them.

Holly loved the smell of new inside the airplane-all leather seats and wool carpeting. She sat in the pilot’s seat, with Ginny next to her, and examined the big glass panels that displayed all the flight and instrument information.

“By the way,” the Piper man said, “the training class starts Monday morning; by next Friday, you’ll be qualified.”

“I can’t wait,” Holly said. “How about insurance?”

“I’ll put the airplane on my flight school policy,” Ginny said, “and you can reimburse me.”

“Great. When can we close?”

“How about tomorrow morning?” the man sitting behind them asked.

“That’s good for me,” Ginny said. “I’ll stop by the bank on the way in tomorrow and get a cashier’s check.”

They got off the airplane and Holly walked around it. It was painted in a beautiful red and white color scheme. She wiped a finger across the paint and found grit. “It’s dirty,” she said. “How long has it been sitting on the ramp?”

“About seven weeks,” the man said. “I’ll have it washed today.”

“Ginny, will you fly it before we close, make sure there are no maintenance squawks?”

“Sure, I will,” Ginny said.

Holly was more excited than she had been since she had started training at the Agency’s Farm. “Ginny, can we fly her some over the weekend? Do you have the time?”

“Sure, we’ll get a head start on your training.”

Holly drove home, singing to herself. She hadn’t been this excited since she began her training at the Agency.