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"Can he take a call without the phone ringing?"

"It has a vibrate mode. You can't hear it, but you can feel it if it's clipped to your belt or in your pocket."

"Show me." She wrote down the instructions for Ham.

"Do we know whether there's even cell phone service out there?" Holly asked.

"I don't know," Harry said. "We'll try it when we get out there, and if there's no service, I can have a portable cell transmitter and antenna in here by tomorrow morning that has a range of about five miles. It'll be on a van, and we can park it as close as possible."

"Good," Holly said. She looked at the sat shot. "This looks like a grass landing strip," she said.

"I agree," Harry replied. "Might come in useful before this is over."

Doug came back with the boat, and they loaded it into the pickup.

"Eddie," Harry said, "you stay here and monitor the bug in the compound. Call us on the scrambled phone if anything important happens."

"Will do," Eddie replied.

"Let's get out of here," Holly said, and got into the truck.

47

Ham had dinner at the table with John and Peck. A pecking order seemed to have been established in the compound, and he figured, from the seating arrangements, that he was pretty near the top of it.

"Peck," John said, "you think you can find a bed for Ham in one of the houses?"

"Sure," Peck replied.

Ham raised a hand. "Listen, guys, I appreciate the thought, but I'm real comfortable in the bunkhouse. I've spent a big chunk of my life in barracks, and I like it." This was an outright lie. He'd spent as few nights in barracks as possible, and he didn't care if he ever spent another one there, but he had to be on the lakeshore when his people showed up with the phone, as he had no doubt they would do.

"Whatever you say, Ham," John replied. "As long as you're comfortable. If you change your mind, let me know."

"Okay," Ham said.

Harry, Holly and Doug, in the pickup truck, worked hard with the large-scale map and a flashlight to find a way to the eastern shore of Lake Winachobee. The dock didn't seem to have a real road leading to it, and they had been picking their way along overgrown lanes for more than two hours.

"The hell with the dock," Holly said. "It's after midnight, and we can launch the dinghy from the shore. I don't mind getting your feet wet."

"Thanks," Harry said.

"Just drive west until we end up in the lake," she said.

"I'm doing the best I can, Holly."

"There," she said, pointing to an opening that appeared in the headlight beams. "That track looks like a car might have once driven down it, and it's headed in the right direction."

Harry turned down it, and a deer ran across the road, nearly striking the truck. "That's all I need," he said.

Then the track opened into a clearing, and the starlight glinted on water.

"There!" Holly nearly shouted. "Douse the headlights."

Harry switched them off and stopped the truck. They sat and waited for their eyes to become accustomed to the darkness.

"Thank God there's no moon tonight," Harry said.

"Not yet, anyway," Doug replied. "We should have checked an almanac."


Tags: Stuart Woods Holly Barker Mystery