Chapter 26

About an hour later, Cowboy knocked on the frame of Malik’s open door. Malik was packing a traveling bag in preparation for their honeymoon trip. Gabriela was supervising. She said, “Come in, Cowboy. I was just seeing that your friend, Shadow, here, was packing in such a way that it would minimize wrinkles.”

Cowboy said, “I’ll be right back.”

A minute later, he came in with a tray upon which rested three cups of coffee, some napkins, and a plate of frosted sweet rolls with evidence of raisins and cinnamon. Malik gave him a questioning look.

Cowboy said, “Before you say anything, I arrived at the bakery after dark and left before daylight. No one saw me that would be a threat.”

Malik said, “I wasn’t worried about that. What bothers me is that I see only three sweet rolls on that plate and I was wondering why you didn’t bring enough for Gabriela and yourself?”

“Don’t worry. There’s another nine in the kitchen, unless Andy or someone’s found ‘em.”

“Thank you, Cowboy,” Gabriela responded. “Perhaps you and I should go eat in the kitchen so we don’t get in his way while he’s snuffling these up. Sooo-ee! Sooo-ee! Here, pig!” she said, as she set a plated roll beside Malik.

Cowboy said to her, “Wait ‘til you’re in some nice restaurant in New York or Philadelphia and he starts belching out the Gettysburg Address. It’s inspiring.”

With an accusatory look, Gabriela asked Cowboy, “Where were you with all this information before the wedding?”

“Sorry. I plead ‘misery loves company.’ I was becoming weary of having to clean up his messes by myself. After I heard his hotel and restaurant plan, I just knew things were going to be even worse. Welcome aboard.”

Malik, who was attending to his packing, said, “Very amusing, very droll, you two. It pains me to shut down the show, but we have some plans to make. Gabriela, will you please close the door? Thank you, dearest.”

Malik sat down at the small desk in the corner of the room and began pulling off pieces of the sweet roll. Cowboy took a plate and a coffee cup and assumed his familiar perch on the hearth, while Gabriela sat on the bed near the dark-stained, carved footboard, balancing cup, saucer, and dessert plate on her knees.

Malik looked at a list he’d made on a sheet of folio paper as he dunked a piece of the sweet roll in his coffee. He said, “I expect that we’ll be in the federal capitol a month from now, give or take a couple days. I’d rather go directly there, but, if I am ever implicated, that direct approach would further incriminate me. Better to establish that it was just one stop on a tour of historic sites along the east coast, rather than an immediate goal of the trip.”

He looked up at them, licking icing from his fingers. “Congress is in session, though they’re not actually scheduled to meet until December, so nothing guarantees that Ranford will be there. Still, except for the heat of summer, he spends most of his time in Washington City. Even so, if he is present, it does not assure that I will have access to him.

“Assuming he is there, I will approach him as what I am, a constituent of somewhat substantial means interested in discussing local issues. But first, to establish a pattern, I’ll have to do the same thing with Congressman Mortonson and Senator DeBray. I’ll have some genuine concerns to discuss, like the rumored closing of the Sonora reservation and corruption in local government, but I’ll also push the notion of Waypoint as a commercial hub worthy of their support.

“My ultimate intention is to accost Ranford on the street, at night, and to make it look like a robbery. However, if such an opportunity does not readily present itself, we can’t linger in Washington City indefinitely without that also adding to later suspicion. So I may have to find a more direct method to get to him, like entering his house surreptitiously, late at night. That kind of attack would further alert the authorities to unusual circumstances and increase the risk of discovery. But it may have to be done. I’ll evaluate the circumstances once we’re there.”

He ran his hand over his hair, briefly rubbing his neck, then said, “We’ll use the visits with Mortonson and DeBray to allow me more time to reconnoiter. If those two aren’t available for some reason, I’ll seek appointments with the Office of Indian Affairs or the Department of Agriculture or something. I’ll have to play it by ear.

He looked at Cowboy. “What I propose is that we establish a code for telegraph communication between you and me.” He looked away for a second, then turned back to his friend. “Let’s say that every Saturday morning I’ll send you a wire of presumed concerns I might have about things back home.” He nodded, as much as to himself. “Doing it every Saturday while I’m traveling will establish a pattern that won’t bring later suspicion.” He looked away again for a brief moment and Cowboy sipped his coffee. Malik said, “For the code, maybe we can use the names of family and friends to stand in for...” He shook his head. “No, that won’t work. Maybe I’ll just query you for anything that might require my attention. Yes, simple is probably better. The thing is, if we are to coordinate our attacks, then I’ll have to give you some form of specificity as to day and time. I don’t think the exact time is so important, but a broad estimate, such as daytime or night, should be sufficient.