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turning around, backed into their carport. He walked carefully up
to the back door, cradling an Uzi and following their footprints
from where they d come out. The back door lock was a simple
locking plunger-type that took him no more time to pick than if he
had used a key.
Once inside, he went first to the answering machine. There
were five messages on it, the last around noon; it was the
daughter calling to make sure that they were going to be there for
Nathan s birthday party. Dan didn t know if Nathan was a son-in-
law, grandson, or a pet goldfish. Nor did he care. The coffeepot
was nearly full, and still warm. He switched the pot on and,
looking around, decided that they must have just finished dinner
and left. He found a full quart container of orange juice in the
refrigerator and drank it. He grinned, imagining the conversation
244 DAVE MEAD
the next morning when the Missus was fixing breakfast and the
Mister would be accused of drinking all the orange juice. He
would deny it and then all hell would break loose.
Kingston spent several minutes scouting the house, he found
the only heat source to be a wood stove in the living room. It had
been left burning with the damper nearly closed. He opened the
damper a bit to keep the house warm and then returned to the
Honda.
When he came back in he was carrying a powder blue suitcase
and a woman s purse. He turned a portable cart mounted TV on
and moved it over to where he could see it from the bathroom.
He undressed and showered, carefully re-bandaged his wounds,
then stood looking at himself in the mirror until a special news
briefing made him turn to watch.
An on-site anchorwoman described the search for Kingston
that was in progress, while the camera showed the scene behind
her where heavily armed police and military personnel were
returning to the staging area.
You dumb fuckers are still in Cherry Grove. Dan told the TV.
His laugh was cut off when the anchorwoman went on, Sources
close to the Stix & Co. Investigation Service believe that she is
searching an area some miles from here. She is reported to be
following a lead concerning the disappearance of a local recluse.
His name has not been released at this time and local police are
baffled as to how she is getting her information.
The anchorwoman had to step aside when two military
personnel carrying a large trunk passed her, heading in the
direction of the storage container. She went on while the
cameraman followed the trunk by using his telephoto lens, One
police source, who spoke to us on condition of anonymity,
indicated that she is considered by many in the police ranks to be
a psychic. He said that they refer to her as the witch. The
anchorwoman went on to describe the weather, and how it was
beginning to snow even at lower elevations, making the search
more difficult. Then gave the usual, This is Barbara Havalan, and
now back to the station, and Anchorman Bill Gown.
Barbara, have you been able to interview Miss Byers or any of
her people? Gown asked her.
STIX 245
No. We aren t sure where she is. We have a team standing
by at her office but no one there seems to know either.
Is she alone?
Yes, we believe so. We ve been told that she prefers to work
alone, and that she feels that she is perfectly capable of capturing
the killer.
After seeing her during the interview this morning, I don t
think I d want her after me, he said solemnly.
Dan used the remote to shut the TV off and once again
returned to the mirror. His shoulder length hair was damp and
hanging in ringlets. He shook his head, watching his hair dance,
and wondered about Stix and who she really was. More than ever
he wanted her. He knew he had to bide his time before he picked
her up, for he would need to keep her alive for a long time to
learn all of her secrets.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts and looked at himself
again, then abruptly wrinkled his nose and said in a throaty,
come-fuck-me voice, Daniel, you ve been a very bad boy. Then
he took a woman s panty girdle out of the suitcase that sat
opened on the toilet lid and put it on to cover the offending
genitals. Then he began to shave his legs. He was going to
become Margo again.
As he shaved he remembered another time several years ago
when he began to suspect that one of his people was about to
spill his guts to the CIA brass. So good was his disguise that, as
Margo, he had allowed his own agent to pick him/her up in a bar
and over dinner and drinks afterward, Margo had become his
accomplice in the defection. Later that night, after a brief stop at
Margo s apartment to pick up a few things, Margo had excused
herself and gone into the bathroom, taking her overnight case
with her.
When Dan came out of the bathroom, the look of horror and
betrayal on the agent s face was even better than the kill.
Dan set it up as a cartel hit and using that as a catalyst did
some major hurt to the one he pinned the kill on, which happened
to be one of the smaller cartels that hadn t seen the necessity of
pay-offs. Shortly after that they changed their mind.
246 DAVE MEAD
Margo finished shaving her legs, rinsed the sink out, and began
to do her hair. Rather than unpacking hers, she used her
hostess s new rechargeable hair dryer that hung beside the sink in
it s own bracket. Margo was willing to bet that it was a Christmas
present from the daughter in Forest Grove who had called to
make sure that they were coming. She put on nylons and a bra.
Then she slipped a pair of breast enhancements made to look like
the real thing down inside her bra and put her makeup on. When
she walked into her host s bedroom she swung her hips, just a
little, but enough.
Margo inspected herself in a full-length mirror.
Honey, she told herself, You ve lost weight, but you do look
good. She giggled. And then spent ten leisurely minutes
dressing in a darling silk suit she d picked up in a thrift shop on
one of her drives. She giggled again. Dan wasn t always the one
that got to go. She poured herself a cup of coffee, grimaced,
added two spoons of sugar and some non-dairy creamer from the
kitchen table, and tasted it again. It was perfect. She honestly
didn t know how Dan could drink it black. He was such a
heathen.
Margo liked the feel of her short skirt swirling around her legs
when she walked to the back of the house and pushed the door
open into her host s spare bedroom. She opened a closet and
said, My, my, what have we here?
Inside was a complete wardrobe of a rather stylish woman.
Nothing like her hostess, no offense intended. She quickly went
through a stack of papers lying on the bed and discovered that
the clothes were of a recently deceased sister who had lived in
Salem.
Margo thought a minute. Yes, Salem was well over sixty miles
south of here. So no one where she was going would recognize
any of the clothes or accessories if she took some of them. She
ran her hands over the clothes, feeling the material. Umm, silk,
she said, when she came to a sculptured pantsuit. She winced
when she tried to lift it off the closet rod with her left hand. Dan!
You imbecile! How dare you let something like this happen to
me.
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