Sam looked at the shiny silver wrapping paper, the bright red satin bows, and the suitcase she’d purchased to take back to the mountain. She danced around the room in her underwear before she packed everything neatly. The chair by the round table called her name. The minibar offered a nice bottle of wine that she sipped at for over an hour as she watched an inane talk show on television.

She had an early dinner of coconut shrimp, wild rice, and a crisp garden salad, with two delectable éclairs to complete her meal. She followed up with another bubble bath and more wine before she wrapped herself in one of the hotel’s thick robes. Then she settled herself in bed between the silk sheets to pound away at Hawkins’s laptop.

In her travels about the city she’d passed a cybercafe where she would be anonymous, and for a price, she could log on to the Net and hopefully get the information she needed on Douglas Cosmo Rainford, III. Of course, if she had struck out with the FBI database, the chances of finding anything on the Net were next to nil. Reluctantly, she closed the laptop. Tomorrow would be soon enough. And the day after. Surely in forty-eight hours she could do what was needed. She wondered belatedly if Pappy knew about the laptop and Hawkins’s email account. She shrugged. Probably, since he seemed to know everything. Then she grimaced. Maybe not everything.

Down in the lobby, Poke Donovan took up his position in a comfortable chair, his eyes on the elevator, his Blackberry in hand. In his disguise, he looked like a chubby Woody Allen. Messages flew like a blizzard to the mountain. The first read, these women give new meaning to the wordshop. The return spate of messages was just as fast and furious.

The following morning, dressed in new cranberry-colored wool slacks, one of her new matching sweaters, and her pea coat, Sam left the hotel and started to walk to a storefront cybercafe, where she parted with her money, paying extra for a “Spy” program that guaranteed finding anyone, anywhere, and was advertised as simple as one, two, three. She chose a terminal at the far end of the room, one that gave her a perfect view of the front door. She listened intently as the office manager explained the system and how to send and receive emails. She nodded from time to time. All she cared about was that no one else would be able to access what she’d done once she left the terminal. She was the first customer of the day, which gave her an edge as far as someone spying on her. She settled herself and her Starbucks coffee cup and started to work.