John awaits some further elucidation, but Holt merely crosses the tiled landing and continues up the stairs to the third story. Holt shows him the library, a colossal room lined with bookshelves and furnished with very old leather sofas and rawhide chairs. Mission-era trunks serve as tables. Two large French doors open to a balcony and observation deck. Behind a heavy oak door along one wall is Holt's office. He makes them fresh drinks, very strong, from a small bar that swings up from what John thought was a steamer trunk. John looks at the fireplace, a generous cavern overhung by an adobe-and-timber mantle, with nineteenth century wrought iron tools hung from stout dowels protruding from the hearth facade. He notes the smell of leather and fire, cigar smoke and the pages of old books. He thinks that this is the best smelling room he's ever been in.
'I like this room a lot,' he says.
'My favorite. Here, let's get an overview.'
From the balcony they climb a flight of outdoor stairs to the platform of the observation deck. John can see the northern shore of the lake, the hillsides of Liberty Ridge, the ocean, the chaparral and a distant section of luminous freeway to the east, and the dark carpet of orange trees spreading north toward the heart of the county.
'Try the telescope.'
John trains the instrument first on the lake, then on the back of the cottage in which he spent the night, then swings it west to reveal a silver Pacific.
'Do you have strong eyes?' Holt asks.
'I'm lucky that way. Why?'
'Curious. Envious, maybe.'
'You've got a lot here to be envious of, Mr. Holt. I've never seen a place like this.'
'Have you seen the grounds, the groves?'
'Just from a distance.'
'Maybe you'll get a closer look sometime.'
'What are all the buildings for?'
'Executives. Staff for the house and grounds. Citrus workers live in the cottages down where the groves start, but you can't see those from here.'
'I didn't know you owned Liberty Operations.'
Holt nods.
'Are you an investigator, then, a private policeman?'
Holt chuckles. 'Of sorts. What I really do is just make people feel safe.'
Ever make Rebecca Harris feel safe?
'… I kind of fell into it. Everyone's afraid these days and they pay me to make it go away. I fell into a bucket of money, too. To be truthful, though, there was already plenty of that in the family.'
'Well, you've certainly prospered.'
'Liberty Ridge is a pearl of great price. Most things in life come with a price.'
John nods and lets the heavy telescope rest on its brass fulcrum.
'How can I reward you for what you did?'
'You already have.'
'I'd be grateful if you would let me buy you a new trailer.'
'Well, trailers aren't real expensive, you know. What I mean is, with a few weeks pay I'd have enough for a down payment, so it's not going to be a-'
'-What did your last one cost?'
'Just twenty-five hundred. It was almost twenty-years old, but they made them better back then. Some of them.'
'Consider it done, then, that your next trailer will be a gift from the Holt family. You will choose it and all the options, of course.'
'No, really… that doesn't seem right, sir.'
'What doesn't seem right? I don't understand you.'
John turns to face Holt now, an act of self-confidence and of self-revelation. Holt's eyes, behind the thick glasses, have an unfiltered, unrestrained voraciousness in them. They look insatiable and incapable of pity, simple organs of procurement. John believes that now is the time to-as Joshua put it-bait the hook. You'll sense the moment to show him what you keep inside, John.
You'll sense the time to let him glimpse something in you that he possesses, too. When you do, give him a clear whiff of himself.
'Mr. Holt, I just did what I thought was right. To be honest with you, it gave me a chance to be a little hero, which fulfills a nice daydream I've had since I was a boy. Every man's fantasy, to rescue a king and his princess. I got to have a nice dinner and meet some good people. On a less noble note, it gave me a chance to put the fear of God into a bunch of bastards. Felt good. I've wondered a couple of times how it would have felt to just gut-shoot that turd and let him bleed to death beside my dog. Truth is, I'm afraid it would have felt a little too good. And I didn't want to face the paperwork.'
Holt is silent for a long moment. Then he laughs. 'My, oh my, what lurks in the heart of Menden. I understand.'
'Do you?'
'Of course. What thinking man wouldn't?'
'I can think of quite a few.'
'So let me ask you-these thinking men you know-would you call them friends, hunt with them, spend time with them, want to know them and their families?'
'I never have.'
'Can you respect a man who has no concept of conviction and follow-through?'
Follow-through, thinks John: one of Josh's pet phrases. Did Josh imagine it coming from his secret hero?
'No. I actually can't. And that's why, Mr. Holt, for you to buy me a trailer or make some big gesture would make me feel small. I think I'll just say thank you, no, and leave here tomorrow. I'll take a sense of having done something decent along with me. It's a good feeling to have. I hope I don't seem ungrateful, either. I mean, Valerie must have spent two grand today, just for clothes.'
Holt considers. 'I understand that a gift might seem demeaning to your intentions, but we also have to be practical sometimes. Look at it this way, too-if you won't take the trailer, you're denying me a chance to be generous.'
'I wouldn't want to do that, Mr. Holt,' says John, with just a trace of irony in his voice.
Holt hears it and smiles. 'Look. What if you think about it for a few days? During that time, stay here with us. There are a few things you might help me out with.'
'Like what?'
'Val could use some help with the dogs. Now that she's out of school it's dogs, dogs, dogs. Headed for vet school next fall, probably out of state. So… well, anyway, she's still field-training her pups.'
John sensed that there was something on Holt's mind left unsaid. He waited, but Holt was silent.
'Nice offer, Mr. Holt, but the paycheck calls.'
'Lane talked to Bruno today. As of yesterday you didn't have any vacation time coming, but now you've got a paid week. Lane helped him see the value of your complete convalescence.'
'You're bluffing now.'
'I don't bluff. Bruno wants the story filed by tomorrow afternoon. Then you're free for a vacation. Don't tell me some R amp;c R on Liberty Ridge would pollute your sense of chivalry, young man.'
'Well, it's tempting.'
'Settled.'
Holt extends his hand and John shakes it. His grip is strong, dry and warm. 'I was surprised to learn you used to write for the Journal. But when Fargo mentioned it, I remembered your columns. Nice stuff. Very un - Journal.'
'Thank you.'
'Do you know Susan Baum?'
John feels his heart tighten, then speed up.
