“This is a dangerous business, Cody. I thought you were a rancher?”

“I am, most of the year. We do this trade once a year. It’s very lucrative.”

“Did Albert suck you into this?”

“No. I asked if he needed help.”

“How did you find out?”

“I spent a lot of time with Uncle Al. I was the closest he had to a son.”

“So,” I said, “you must know about his affair with the woman he worked with.” I thought I’d throw it in, see what happened.

“Who?” he said.

“The woman Opal says creatively murdered him.”

“Wow, she said that?” Cody looked sincerely interested now. “Unbelievable.”

“Is she a real person?”

Cody’s eyes went flat when he realized I was fishing, that I didn’t know. He shrugged. “Real as anything can be with Opal right now.”

How was I to find this woman? I don’t think I could just phone up spy central and ask for her. Opal wasn’t even sure about her name.

Jake said, “I guess you wouldn’t consider letting us go on our word. I’m not interested in this line of work. I don’t think Fiona is either, are you?”

I shook my head and helped myself to a third Danish. They were small. “No,” I said, “I’m best at interior design.”

Cody said, “You sure are asking a lot of questions for not being interested.”

Jake tried to rise.

Cody motioned him down with the gun.

“Mind if I refill the coffee?” Jake said.

Cody relented. “Bring the pot over. I want a refill.”

“Me, too,” I said.

This was all so civil.

Jake left his cup on the table and fetched the coffee pot. He poured Cody’s first. Then, as he finished, with a deft flick of his wrist he threw the remaining pot into Cody’s face. Cody’s arms flew up to protect his face, and Jake smashed the coffee pot against the wrist that held the gun. It skittered across the table.

Cody kept screaming son-of-a-bitch while trying to clear his eyes. Jake delivered an impressive chop to Cody’s neck, and the poor cowboy slumped over onto the table.

“Nice work, Jake,” I said.

He yanked me out of the chair. I was still clutching the Danish.

“Which way to the car?” he said.

“Back entrance.”

We high tailed it from the kitchen, leaving another mess for Hudson to clean up.

* * * * *

“Jake, we have to go to the police.”

We were speeding along in a line of lively commuter traffic, going I wasn’t sure where, Jake at the wheel. He glanced in my direction.

“Fiona, this kind of stuff is FBI and ATF people, not a group I want to get involved with. We could get framed by Cody and those goons he’s dealing with. I’m not willing to take that chance. I want out.”

I was perplexed. “In my world when there is wrong doing, one reports the information to the proper authorities.”

“Not in my world. You settle things yourself. You want to be in a witness protection program the rest of your life?”

“Depends where it is. South Pacific Island I could go for.”

“Get serious.”

“I am.”

“Fiona, we need to distance ourselves from the scene of the crime. Our fingerprints are on the door to the weapons room. Have you thought about that? What do you think Cody is going to do when he comes around?”

“What?”

“Come after us. Or have someone unpleasant come after us.”

“I hadn’t thought about that. I guess I could take a vacation. Damnation, I never did get a check for work done.”

“Don’t think you’re going to.”

“What will you do?”

“Can’t go back to the ranch. My career there is over.”

“This might be a good time to visit my friends in Australia. That might be far enough away.”

Jake nodded his head thoughtfully. “Mind if I join you?”

“That’s a possibility. By the way that was an impressive hand chop you delivered to poor Cody. Where’d you learn that?”

“High school.”

“Must have been some school.”

Jake grunted. No more details were forthcoming.

“Jake,” I said, “you haven’t leveled with me about what you know. If we’re going on a extended trip together, we should be honest with each other.”

We stopped at a light in a long line of traffic. Someone kept tooting the horn. I hadn’t paid attention to it, except that now the annoying motorist was right beside us in traffic. I caught a hand wave out of the corner of my eye and turned to give the guy a dirty look.

It was Hudson, red-faced and yelling. I couldn’t make out what he was saying with the window up. I debated about putting it down. What if he had a gun?

“Jake, look. It’s Hudson in the car aside of us.”

Traffic was moving again, and Jake stole a glance in my direction. He kept with the flow of traffic.

“He’s yelling for us to stop and pull over. Do you think we should?”

Jake sped up and kept looking in the mirror. “He’s behind us now. Right on our tail. He doesn’t strike me as the type to be tailing us for no good reason. If he were following with some malicious purpose, he would have kept out of sight and maybe run us off the road into a ditch. I wonder what he wants.”

I looked back. Hudson kept throwing his hands up off the wheel. I became concerned that he’d have a wreck.

“Maybe we should look for a convenience store or somewhere public to pull in and see what he wants. He can’t do too much damage in a public place.”

“You hope.”

“Do you think he’s involved in the weapon’s business?”

Jake shook his head like maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. “Hudson doesn’t strike me as the kind to want to get involved in much of anything. He’s a butler and that’s it. Though he may be caught inadvertently in something he can’t extract himself from.”

We continued on. An Exxon sign appeared on the horizon.

“Jake, up ahead. A service station. Pull in.”

Jake put on the right turn signal, eased into the right lane. Hudson followed. He was driving the huge Rolls Royce I had seen in the Lodge multi-car garage. Odd that he would be driving the Rolls which alone attracted stares and glances. He wasn’t worried about being seen. Maybe he had a message for us.

Jake pulled to the side of the station, dodging impatient Washington commuters intent on filling up. He came to a stop in front of the air pump. Hudson pulled in on my side.

“We stay in the car,” Jake said.

I pressed the electric window button. A brisk fall breeze poured in. Hudson rolled down his window with less caution than we exhibited.

“Hello, Miss Marlowe,” he said. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I wanted to give you the check for your services. You left in such a hurry I didn’t have a chance to give it to you.”

Since I hadn’t given them a bill, I was curious. He reached inside his coat and brought out an envelope. “I hope this is appropriate. We appreciate what you did. I’m terribly sorry things turned out as they did.”

I stretched to receive the envelope he offered and opened it. The check was for $10,000, more than I would have billed.

“Thank you, Hudson. This is very generous. Are you all right? Are you sure you should go back? Maybe you should continue on to the airport and board a flight to England.”

His having chased us down the highway to hand me a check well over the amount I would have asked, suggested that here was an honest, well meaning man. I was concerned for his safety.

“I’m all right, Miss Marlowe, but I can’t leave quite yet.”

I hesitated to ask, but did. “Is Cody okay?”

“Cody?”

“Yes, he, uh, had an accident with hot coffee. I hope he’s all right.”

“Yes, he told me you had left. He looked a bit red-faced, I recall. I hurried to try to catch you. I certainly wish you well, Miss Marlowe.” He leaned lower to see Jake. “And you, too, Mr. Manyhorses.”

Jake nodded but said not a word.

“I must be getting back. Good day, then,” Hudson said.

We watched him back around and ease into the line of traffic.

I pulled out the check again. “Jake, this check is for $10,000. But wait.” There was something else in the envelope. “There’s another check made out to you. It’s for $10,000, too.” I handed the check to Jake.

He studied the check. “Silence money, I’d say, wouldn’t you?”

We sat in grim reflection, gazing at the overgrown tangle of trees and shrubs to the back of the parking lot.

“Jake, why would they give us $20,000 when the estate is in such a financial mess?”

“To buy our silence.”

“I don’t know.”

“Fiona, don’t go waffling on me. This family is into unimaginable intrigue.”

“Are you going to tell me what you know?”

He sighed. “I suspected something illicit but didn’t know it was weapons. I found entries in a ledger book in Albert’s room. It was an account that Hudson didn’t know about, which is why I think Hudson isn’t part of whatever Cody and Albert were doing. The entries were large sums of money. Like $800,000 was the smallest amount I remember.”

I watched his profile as he spoke. The sun popped in and out of puffy clouds. Yellow and gold leaves fell in hops and skips from the trees. All was well with nature. It was humanity that was in bad shape.

“He was dealing arms then,” I said.

“He apparently was. I saw the large sums of cash that wouldn’t be associated with any think tank job.”

“Do you have any idea why Albert did this?”

He shrugged, still staring at the trees in front of us. “Financial problems. I found a lot of unpaid bills in the desk in Albert’s room. Big bills. For furniture, appliances, cars, bank loans, credit cards. I don’t know who all that stuff was for since Olivia wasn’t around racking up bills. I don’t know how he laundered the money.”