Blue Smoke and Murder

40

SEPTEMBER 15

6:14 P.M.

Anything new?” Score barked into his headphone.

“Do you see anything new in your files?” Amy’s voice said more than her words just how irritated she was. “I’m on a date and my phone keeps vibrating like a scared hamster. I’ve spent so much time in the women’s can that Dave thinks I’ve got diarrhea.”

“You’re getting overtime.”

“I’d rather get laid.”

Score bit back a string of curses. The problem with hiring bright young computer techs was that they were younger than they were bright.

“There is nothing new on the phone bug,” she said, spacing the words like Score was an idiot. “I said I’d call if there was.”

“When was the last time you checked?”

“The last time you called. That would be four minutes and sixteen-no, seventeen-seconds ago.”

“Where’s your computer?”

“At the office, rigged to call the cell phone in my other pocket if something changes. I also have Steve babysitting my computer, in case something good pops. Why don’t you just text-message him and cut out the middleman?”

With a disgusted sound, Score punched out of the conversation. He frowned at one of the computers he had with him. The pulsing light of the locater appeared over a street map of Taos.

The only good news was that the locater had finally stopped moving.

He zoomed in on the map until he had the address. Then he fed the information into his other computer and waited impatiently for directions to appear on the screen. While he waited, he watched the locater.

Still motionless.

“That’s it, babe. Stay where you are. Papa’s coming to get you.”

And he really hoped the Breck bitch got in the way. Nothing personal. She was just more trouble than she was worth. Like her great-aunt. With a little luck, Ms. Breck would be talking to the old lady soon.

Assuming the dead talked.