Fifteen minutes later they pulled up to the showroom. Stone and Holly got out and peered through the glass. Three cars, one C class and two E classes. They walked inside.

A salesman ambled over. “Good morning. Can I show you something?”

“Do you have anything larger that this?” Stone asked.

“Not in stock, but I can get you just about anything in a matter of days.”

“We need something immediately,” Stone said. Then he saw something interesting parked outside. “Is that for sale?”

“The Porsche Cayenne Turbo? It certainly is.”

“Let’s have a look at it.” Stone walked outside and around the car; it needed washing.

“This,” the salesman said, “is a deal. I took it in trade yesterday for an S550. The guy’s wife didn’t want an SUV. It’s less than a year old and has under three thousand miles on it.”

“Let’s drive it,” Stone said.

“I’ll go get the key.”

“I’ve got one of these,” Holly said. “It’s a sensational car. Zero to sixty in four-point-three seconds—nearly as fast as the 911 sports car.”

The salesman returned with the key. “Just put this in your pocket—you don’t need the key to start it. Ignition switch is on the left, foot on the brake and turn it.”

Stone got in, followed instructions, and the engine leaped to life. Five minutes later they were tearing down a back road, taking corners fast. They returned to the dealership. “I had my heart set on an S550,” he said.

“Let’s go pick some options, then give me a week or ten days.”

“How much for the Cayenne?”

The man mentioned a number.

Stone mentioned a lower one.

“Is this cash or financed?”

“Cash.”

The salesman mentioned another number.

“Done. How long to get it cleaned up?”

“Give me an hour,” the salesman said.

Stone went into the dealership, was introduced to an accountant, signed the papers, and wrote them a check.

“We’ll have to clear this,” the man said.

“I’ll be back in an hour. Get it cleared.”

They went back to their car and driver. “Give me a second,” Stone said. He got out his iPhone and Googled safes in Santa Fe, then gave the driver an address.

“Something I should mention,” the driver said as he pulled out of the dealership.

“What’s that?”

“Do you have some personal security or something?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because we’re being followed—two cars, changing places every block or two.”

“What kind of cars?”

“A black one and a silver one, both Japanese, I think. I can’t tell the brands apart.”

“Have you had any experience at being followed?”

“I’m a retired police detective, I’ve had more experience following than being followed.”

Stone didn’t look back. “Is there a mirror on the passenger sun visor?”

The driver turned it down; the mirror was there.