Free Blood Orchid by Stuart Woods

could see a man’s back.
    “He’s disabling the alarm,” Phil said.
    “Daisy’s already down,” Ham said, pointing to a black lump halfway offscreen.
    “She must have met him at the door, but he was ready for her,” Holly said.
    “So he knows you’ve got a dog, and he knows how to disable your alarm,” Ham said. “This guy sounds very competent and well prepared.”
    “He’s a regular cat burglar,” Phil said, “right out of the movies, or the CIA. You got any jewelry, Holly?”
    “Some; it’s in the safe upstairs.”
    “What did he want? You missing anything?”
    Holly watched the man turn from the closet and walk up the stairs, passing under the camera. “Not so far. Let’s see what else he does.”
    A minute passed, then the man walked back down the stairs and into the study off the living room. Holly glanced at her watch. When the man left the study, three minutes had passed. He walked aroundthe living room, checking the magazines on the coffee table.
    “Look,” Holly said, “he’s arranging the magazines again; he did that last time.”
    “Neat freak,” Ham said.
    The man looked around the room once more, then walked to the front door and opened it.
    “That’s when I arrived,” Holly said. “I collided with him, and I fell off the porch. When I went after him, he hit me with the gun.”
    “What the fuck is going on here?” Ham asked.
    “That’s what I’d like to know,” Holly replied. “Let’s take a look at the study.” She led the way into the small room where Jackson had once worked late on case files. About all she used the room for was paying bills. “Neater than I left it,” she said.
    “He doesn’t care if you know he was here,” Phil said. “That’s weird.”
    “Weird describes it,” Holly replied.
    “Holly,” Phil said, “if you don’t mind, I’d like to work on the alarm system right now.”
    “Okay.”
    “What I want to do is to put the original box back together, to look the way it was, then I want to install a second box that really controls the system, and I’ll do it where he can’t find it so easy.”
    “Go right ahead, Phil.”
    “You need to get some rest,” Ham said. “I’ll cancel dinner with Ed Shine.”
    “No, don’t do that,” Holly said. “I’ve got a touch of cabin fever and I want to get out. I feel all right. I’ll take a nap and pick you and Ginny up as planned.”
    “If you say so,” Ham said.
    When Ham had gone, Holly left Daisy asleep in herbed and stretched out on the living room sofa, so she’d be nearby when the dog woke up. It took her a few minutes to wind down enough to doze. She dreamed of taking the gun away from the intruder and pistol-whipping him.

15
    T he car arrived on time, and Holly was impressed. She’d been expecting Ed’s Cadillac, but when she walked out of the house she found a Bentley waiting for her, and it looked brand-new. The driver was a nearly silent Hispanic man who greeted her and held the door while she got in.
    They cruised up A1A, and, through the darkened windows, Holly watched the expressions of people on the street as they drove through downtown. Nobody had ever seen anything like this in Orchid, she thought.
    Ham and Ginny were equally impressed with the car. “Pullman interior,” Ham said, referring to the two sets of facing rear seats. “Not as long as those things with hot tubs that people rent so they can get drunk and not have to drive, but long enough.”
    “How are you feeling, Holly?” Ginny asked. She looked sensational in a red dress that worked with her hair.
    “I’m perfectly all right,” Holly said, putting a hand to the side of her head. “It’s sore under there, but that’s all.”

    “I can’t see a bruise,” Ginny said. “And nobody who sees you in that dress is going to look at your head.”
    Holly laughed. “It’s Armani; I went down to Palm Beach and bought it… before the wedding.”
    “I didn’t mean to bring up a bad memory,” Ginny