Santa Fe Edge

BARBARA SLEPT LATE, and when she was dressing she heard a sound she hadn’t heard for quite some time: a cell phone ringing. Surprised, she dug it out of her purse. It had to be Jimmy. He was the only person who had the number.

“Hey,” she said.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“I’d rather not say,” she replied. “Where are you?”

“In Santa Fe.”

She was surprised. “Why?”

“I’m producing a film here that’s starting production right away.”

“Good,” she said. “You’ll enjoy the town.”

“Something else,” he said. “It’s starring the wife of your nemesis.”

“What?”

“Relax. It was a good deal for me. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Have you seen Ed?”

“Last night. They had me, the writer/director and the star for dinner.”

“Isn’t Susannah starring?”

“No. She could have, but she took a supporting role. Smart move, too.”

“Listen, I’ve got to run,” she said. “I’ll call you in a few days.”

“Okay. Take care.”

She hung up and swore. This was a very big monkey wrench in her works. She had been planning to kill them both, but she couldn’t do that to Jimmy; he’d lose a lot of money. She paced around the room. What would she do now? She could stay on briefly with Charlene and Hugh, but only briefly. They’d be sick of her in a few days, and she couldn’t blame them.

She picked up the Santa Fe New Mexican, which had been left at her door, and sat down with the real estate pages, circling likely-sounding rentals. One sounded particularly nice, and she called the agent and made an appointment to see it.

She sat at the dressing table and inspected herself carefully. Her new hair color and the cosmetic surgery she had had before her incarceration might make it unlikely for people who had known her in Santa Fe to recognize her, but still, she had to be careful.

IN THE EARLY AFTERNOON she drove back to town and, following the directions the agent had given her, drove to the development called Las Campanas, which she knew about from her earlier stay in the town when she had been married to Eagle. The property was a guesthouse, nicely furnished and available at a very reasonable rent, in return for keeping an eye on the house. The couple would not return until next summer.

She signed the lease on the spot and gave the agent a check for a month’s rent and a security deposit, then she drove back to the Holroyds’ ranch, arriving in time for dinner.

She didn’t tell them about her rental. It was best that no one knew where she was. “I’ve got to go back to the West Coast on business,” she said to them.

They expressed suitable regret, and she showed her gratitude for inviting her by making them both very happy in bed that night.

The following morning she packed, then drove back to Las Campanas.

12

Pedro Alvarez sat at his desk, filling out requisition forms for food for his prisoners. He had a very sweet deal with his purveyor: Alvarez checked off good-quality goods on the form, and the purveyor supplied him with cheaper selections for each one, and Alvarez got a very nice cash payment when the food was delivered.

He had accumulated a nice little nest egg, doing this and taking bribes from prisoners for various items he supplied, such as beauty products, and the best part was that his wife knew nothing about his arrangements or his nest egg. He planned to play cards with some friends that evening, and he went to the safe to get some cash. To his astonishment, the money was gone! But how? No one else had the combination to the safe. He opened his wallet, where he kept the combination written on a card: still there. He checked the edge of his desk drawer, where he kept the combination taped: still there.

Barbara! It had to be that bitch. She had taken his wallet or found the combination on the drawer’s edge! He couldn’t believe it. He felt sick.

The phone rang, and he picked it up. “Alvarez.”

“Hello, Pedro,” the capitan said. “You don’t sound very well.”

“Just a little indigestion,” Alvarez replied. “Are you well?”

“Yes, and I’m coming to Acapulco tomorrow morning. I thought I might drive up to Tres Cruces and take you up on your offer of fucking the lovely Barbara.”

Alvarez was seized with panic. The capitan had many connections in the Ministry of Justice. He had found Alvarez this job. If he discovered that Barbara was no longer in his prison, there would be hell to pay.

He fell back on his earlier invention. “You know, Capitan, the day after you called, two men appeared in my office with a transfer order for the woman, and they took her away.”

“Away where?” the capitan asked.

“I don’t know. They told me that if I told anyone of her transfer I would lose my job, so I assumed they were from the Ministry.”

“That is very peculiar,” the capitan replied. “I will make some inquiries.”

“Oh, no, please! If you start asking around, whoever is behind this will hear of it and will take it out on me. I beg you, don’t mention this to anyone else.”

“Pedro, you must know this is highly irregular,” the capitan said.

“And I was told to continue to keep her on my roster of prisoners, to make no change.”

“Do you know the names of these men?”

“No, but they had a fully executed transfer order with all the proper stamps.”

“I see. Then I suppose you had no choice but to surrender the woman to them.”

“No choice whatsoever, Capitan. When I questioned them they threatened to call Mexico City and have me disciplined.”

“All right, Pedro, don’t worry about it. I won’t mention it to anyone in the Ministry, or anyone else, for that matter.”

“Thank you, Capitan,” Alvarez said. “If you’d like to come up, I can give you your choice of other women. None as beautiful as the Eagle woman, of course, but very nice.”

“Perhaps another time, Pedro,” the capitan said. “I must run now. Good-bye.”

Alvarez hung up the phone, and he was bathed in sweat. His money was gone, and he could only hope that the capitan would keep his word.

THE CAPITA?N STARED AT his phone for a moment, then picked it up and dialed a number at the Ministry of Justice in Mexico City. He was greeted warmly by his contact.

“I would like you to do something for me,” the capitan said. “Can you check your computer for the El Diablo women’s prison in Tres Cruces and see if there is a record of a transfer for a prisoner named Barbara Eagle? She is an Anglo.”

“It will take only a moment,” the man said. Shortly he returned to the phone. “No, there is no such record. She is carried on the roll of El Diablo as a prisoner there.”

“Would the transfer of any inmate be recorded in your computer files?”

“Yes, indeed. The issuance of a transfer order and the execution of the order would both be recorded.”

The capitan thanked the man, then hung up. Something smelled of fish, he thought. Then he thought again. No, not of fish-of escape. The woman had somehow got herself out of El Diablo and was now free. Then he