“No. You could approach it on foot, but the terrain is a little rough—arroyos and ravines on the property. I did the closing when the original owner bought the property, and as I recall, he bought half of a twenty-five-acre tract. There are no other houses within, say, five hundred feet. There’s also a swimming pool and cabana, a tennis court, and a guest house.”

“Sounds pretty elaborate for somebody in the Witness Protection Program.”

“I thought the same thing. It may just be a way point on the way to his final destination.”

“Sounds pretty elaborate for an FBI property, too.”

“Yeah. My guess is it’s owned by somebody friendly to the Bureau—I’ll have to check the property records to find out who—and that they’ve got your man stashed in the guest house. If that’s the case, it might make him a little easier to get out of there. The guest house has its own access to the road.”

“Can we take a look at it tonight?” Holly asked.

“You don’t want to do that. You’re tired, and you don’t know the territory, and dinner’s waiting for us.”

“Relax, Holly,” Stone said. “It doesn’t sound like Trini’s going anywhere.”

“Oh, all right,” Holly sighed.

Ed drove them through the village of Tesuque, north of Santa Fe, and up into the hills above the village, then turned into a driveway marked by a large stone eagle perched on a big boulder.

The house was spacious and comfortable, and the guest bedroom was inviting.

“Freshen up. There’s a drink waiting for you, and dinner in a few minutes,” Ed said.

Stone splashed some water on his face and brushed his hair. “You ready?” he asked Holly.

“You go get us a drink. I’ll be along in a minute.”

Stone found Ed in the kitchen, where there were sizzling noises coming from a skillet.

“Booze is over there in that cabinet,” Ed said, pointing. “Help yourself.”

Stone found a selection of half a dozen bourbons and poured Holly and himself some Knob Creek.

“That lady of yours sounds hot for this guy,” Ed said.

“That’s putting it mildly. She’s going at him with reckless abandon. We had the guy nailed in New York last night, only to find a bunch of FBI agents guarding him.”

“How’d you find out he went to Santa Fe?”

“We followed them to Teterboro and a friend got a report on their flight plan. That’s when I called you.”

“Stone, I don’t know what your relationship is to this lady, but I can guess. Are you sure you’re not following your dick around?”

“No, I’m not sure,” Stone replied. “I keep asking myself that question, but I just got caught up in this business, and I’d like to help her see it through.”