“Why not do that here?”

“Because I live here in Olympia,” said Dora

“You going to sell the girl on another trip?”

“We...may have been discovered and now have to move. The man, Rogers, needs dry air. Lots of people do. You have this nursing home in Arizona. Sure, I can sell it. She’s a dip.”

“Alright. It’s got a big desert. Have Harv bring the ambulance. Ready in a half hour.”

“Yeah.”

A chair scraped. Cilla made for the stairs. Arizona! Should she forget trying to get information? Just get Hudson and herself out. She felt pretty sure she could handle Frank and Dora, if she could take them by surprise. Harv was an unknown. Was he right outside? She’d just get one chance with people who were planning to leave Hudson in the desert. Why not her, too? What was Loni being kept alive for? Maybe she wasn’t, but then...

What would Hudson do? He’d get her out; she had no question about that. Suppose he needed a real doctor? It couldn’t be good for anyone to stay drugged like this. But if they were planning on him making it alive to Arizona...She reached a decision. She went into her room, turned the lights on. Then off. Then on. Then off. And a third time on and off. Dora’s room was next to hers. Her eyes went around it. The bureau first. There were only a few articles of clothing in the drawers. Most of Dora’s stuff must be across the street. The closet held just one suit and a coat. In its pocket was a letter addressed to Dora. The return address was Sedona, Arizona.

“What are you doing in my closet?” Right behind Dora was Frank, and the look in his eyes was not friendly.

Chapter 25

“Why are we waiting here?” Though the car was warm, when Loni looked at the blue house down the street she shivered. “She said to go to the Westwater and call Mr. Krestinski.”

They had watched Frank’s car drive up, and him enter the house. Ten minutes had gone by. Still Carver had waited.

“I need to be sure the substitution is accepted.”

“How will you know by sitting here? They could be doing anything inside!”

The lights in one of the upstairs rooms went on and off once. Twice. He put the car in gear. Three times. He stopped. The agreed signal was twice. There was no provision for a third.

“Was that your room?”

“Yes.”

He studied the house motionless. Then drove slowly down the street past it. A light came on in the room next to where the signal had been given. Carver put his foot on the accelerator. The Buick leapt forward.

“Are we going to the hotel?”

“Payphone. Do your seatbelt.”

Carver doubled the speed limit. Loni was pushed back against the seat. They found a telephone, and Wally was quickly out of the car.

“My name is Wallace Carver. Put on John Krestinski. It’s an emergency.”

“Sorry. He’s gone for the day.”

Carver compressed his lips. Of course. It’s after midnight there. “Let me have his home number.”

“I’m sorry, we can’t give that to you.”

“Then call him and have him call me back. This is a matter of life and death.”

“What was your name again?”

Carver’s voice dropped to a growl as he repeated it.

“I’ll see if I can reach him. What’s your number?”

Wally read it off the machine. “What is your name?”

“Andrea.”

“Andrea, I expect to hear from him within three minutes.” He hung up and waited. In less than the time allowed, Krestinski rang back.

“You’re in Washington, Wally?”

“We’re all in Washington, including Alexandra Sturgis.”

“Al...you mean Loni? She’s there with you?”

“Not five feet away. I thought you Fibbis were supposed to be keeping an eye on her.”

“So did I. How the hell did she get out there?”

“Later. Cilla and Hudson are being held captive in a house on North Garrison street here in Olympia, and there’s about to be trouble of some sort. Can you get your people on it right away?”

“What’s the address?” Wally gave him the address of the blue house. “How many are they?”

“Two I know of, a man and a woman. Loni says there’s a third, another man, but he’s not there now. Hudson has been drugged and is in a room upstairs. They think Cilla is Loni. Or they did. How fast can you make it?”

“Hold on.”

Wally leaned against the side of the booth. Three times. It had to be an SOS.

Krestinski was back in less than a minute. “Thirty minutes. Can you meet them there?”

“Yes.”

“Pilton Bowditch is the agent in charge. Now tell me what in hell’s going on. Sammy Gardner’s on it, but they weren’t to leave Mass. And what’s Hudson and Cilla doing out there anyway?”

“Your job.”

“What? I told Hudson we’d handle it!”

“Have you?”

“Damn it, Wally!...Alright, you’ve made your point. Tell me what’s happened.”

“Hudson decided to check out the Sturgis funeral.”

“I told him...”

“Do you want to hear this?”

“Go ahead.” Wally could almost hear the FBI man grinding his teeth.

“He didn’t return or call so Cilla and I went after him. A woman named Dora Fender picked up the Sturgis ashes and flew out here with them. Hudson followed. We followed him.”

“Are they armed? The people in that house?”

“Unknown. Who are they?”

“Part of the organization I assume. Describe them.”

“I’ve only seen the woman close to. She’s white, forty, five foot four, medium build, hazel eyes, brown hair with a little gray, a mole on the left side of her neck, an oval face with a small mouth. Mean anything to you?”

“Not yet. That all?”

“Yes. I’m going back to the house.”

He hung up and went back to the car.

“Did you get him?”

“Yes.” He started the automobile.

“Are we going back there?”

“We are.” The tires squealed as he put the car in a hard U turn.

“Can’t the FBI handle it?”

“They haven’t so far. Tell me how this Dora came into the picture. She wasn’t assigned by Mr. Krestinski.”

“I never met Mr. Krestinski. Sammy Gardner...stayed with me. Until Dora replaced him. But how could that have happened? She’s not FBI, is she?”

“No.” Carver edged to the side of the road as a vehicle with blinking red lights went past. He could just

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