HOLLY CLEANED OUT her room and, with the help of the two security men in the lobby, loaded everything into her Cayenne Turbo and drove over to 868 Park Avenue. With the help of the doormen there, she got everything unloaded and upstairs into her new apartment, then she went back downstairs. The Cayenne was gone.
The super approached and introduced himself. “I’m Danny,” he said. “I put your car in our garage. Just call the doorman when you want it, and someone will bring it around for you. They need about fifteen minutes’ notice.”
Holly thanked him and went back upstairs to her apartment. She unpacked and put everything away, then she sat down on the living room sofa and called her father on her cell phone.
“Ham?”
“Hey, baby, how are you? I haven’t heard from you for a couple of weeks, and I thought maybe they killed you during training.”
“I’m just fine,” she said. “I’m in New York.”
“You finished at the Farm already?”
“They cut the training short so that my class could join the New York team for a special project.”
“And what is the project?”
“If I told you I’d have to dispatch somebody down there to dispatch you. How’s Ginny?”
“She’s just great; she’s hired two more instructors for her flight school, and business is humming.”
“Ham, I bought an apartment in New York.”
“Yeah, where?”
“On Park Avenue. Can you believe it?”
“Well, you’re a woman of some means,” Ham said. “It’s probably a good investment.”
“I think it is. And you and Ginny can come visit. There’s only one bedroom, but I’ll get a pullout sofa.”
“Thanks, but I can afford a hotel. We’re not bunking in with you; we screw too much, and Ginny is noisy.”
“Oh, Ham, stop it. You’d be perfectly welcome.”
“I know we would, but we’d prefer a hotel.”
“Give me a little time to get my feet on the ground, then come visit.”
“Okay. How’s the work going?”
“It’s good but frustrating. We’ve got a tough assignment, and it isn’t going as well as I’d like.”
“Well, if you’re willing to say that, things must be going pretty badly.”
“Now you’re getting the picture.”
“Tell me about the apartment.”
“I’ll wait and let you see it. Your daughter has come up in the world.”
“I’ve been tempted to open that envelope you gave me.”
“Don’t you dare, unless you hear I’m dead.” The envelope contained a copy of her will and the second credit card that would give Ham access to the Cayman bank account, plus a letter explaining everything.
“Okay, it’s in my safe until the day. But you better not die before me; I’ll kick your ass.”
“I know that. Listen, I’ve got to run; I’ve got a ton of work about to fall on me. I’ll call you next week. Love to Ginny.”
“Bye-bye.” Ham hung up.
“Come on, Daisy,” Holly said. “Let’s go shopping.”
TEDDY FAY WAS WALKING to his workshop when he saw Holly Barker and her dog on the other side of the street. He watched her out of the corner of his eye without turning his head; it still made him nervous to see her around. She must live nearby, he figured.
Once locked into his workshop, he fired up his computer and used the disks Irene Foster had given him to log into the CIA mainframe. He spent two hours constructing a file for a fictitious officer, Charles Lockwood, supplying Lockwood with a biography, an educational background, a service record, a financial history and the proper security clearances. To entertain himself, he had Lockwood reporting directly to Hugh English, the deputy director for operations. Now he could safely log into the mainframe at any time.
When he was finished, he went into the personnel records and pulled up Holly Barker’s file. He read through it carefully, then read the Agency’s investigation report on her background and the record of her training at the Farm. She sounded like a good one, he thought. He read the account of the incident with Whitey Thompson, which the director of training himself had apparently witnessed, and was much amused by it. He had outfitted Whitey, once, for a mission in East Germany, and from what he had heard later, the man had turned out to be a disaster in the field, blowing the whole operation and almost getting two of his colleagues killed. After that, he had been banished to the Farm, where the Agency had figured he couldn’t get into too much trouble teaching trainees to kill people.
HOLLY WENT TO A HARDWARE STORE called Gracious Home, which also had a furnishings shop, across the street. Lance had given her the name of the place, and it turned out to be a gold mine for what she needed for her apartment. She shopped for an hour, then filled out a charge account application, giving Morgan & Bailey as her employer. The front operation was turning out to be a very convenient thing to have as support. She felt almost like a real New Yorker, now, with an apartment and a conventional job and the business cards Lance had given her. She asked the store to deliver her purchases to her apartment building, then she walked the few blocks to Central Park and made her way downtown, sometimes jogging alongside Daisy to give her some exercise. She enjoyed herself. Tomorrow she would be back at work, looking for Teddy Fay.
TEDDY SPENT THE AFTERNOON going through the operations directorate’s files on terrorist suspects attached to foreign embassies and with diplomatic immunity. He’d let the Agency take care of the clandestine individuals and groups who had no immunity. He’d deal with the ones the Agency and the FBI couldn’t touch, because of their diplomatic status.
There were a surprisingly large number of them. He selected three and began downloading their dossiers from the CIA mainframe.
HOLLY ARRIVED BACK at her apartment, where her purchases from Gracious Home were waiting for her. She put everything away, then ran a hot bath and slipped into the big, old-fashioned tub, while Daisy curled up on the mat next to her.
There was something still missing in her life; she had been able to put it out of her mind while she was in training and after her arrival in New York, but now it was creeping back into her brain, and into other places, as well.
She needed a man.