Chapter 31

Monday, July 5, 10:12 p.m.

Madeleine and the pizza delivery boy arrived at the same time, and Sam greeted both with enthusiasm. He had skipped dinner in order to share the pizza with her. Hugh Fulcher, who had not skipped dinner, was enjoying his second beer in Sam's living room.

The long drive hadn't dimmed Madeleine's interest in the upcoming project, but she looked at Sam with surprise when he presented her with a Carta Blanca, a large slice of pizza, and two sheets of typed paper.

"That's our schedule for the next three days," Sam explained, handing Fulcher an identical two sheets of paper. "After that, we'll regroup and decide whether to run any variations."

Madeleine took a long drink of the wonderfully cold Mexican beer and studied Sam's paper. "Not a very strenuous morning you've got planned for me," she said.

"Breakfast should be in the hotel restaurant, any time it's convenient to you. I've got you at or around the hotel pool from 10:30 until 12:15," Sam explained, "because there are a lot of civic clubs who meet there for lunch at or before noon. Should anyone display any inordinate interest, you should stretch out the pool time until 12:30. If no fish are biting by then, you've got a different Old Town restaurant to go to for lunch, on each of the three days.

"You should walk to lunch each day, leaving your room, after changing, around 1 p.m. Hugh or I will be watching you all morning, and we'll both be watching when you leave for lunch, but you likely won't see us. One of us will be in a car, the other on the street, just in case you're followed by someone who's mobile."

"How do I dress for these excursions?"

Sam smiled. "Madeleine, we don't want you trying to look like a hooker, exactly. Dress with reasonable taste -- almost as you would normally -- except -- well, pretend you're a person who's not comfortable in the heat. Wear something... cool... brief."

"Well, I brought what I could along. I've got shorts, blouses, a couple' minis, and some tight jeans. 'Sorry, guys, but my wardrobe wasn't too well-equipped for these shenanigans."

"You're so damned striking, Mad, that even the uniform looks great on you... But you're right, it's tough to do this right without a little wardrobe help. 'First day out, wear your own stuff, and then you can go do some shopping for what you think will work for the assignment. I'm thinking about things like sleeveless tops, with the armhole-things a little bigger than they maybe oughta be... Nothing too tight-fitting, but -- you know -- kinda -- breezy. And no bra. Or wear a starchy blouse that buttons down the front, and one of the buttons has -- whoops! -- come loose, like. And the front of the blouse is starchy, so that one side kinda juts out -- 'makes a little opening, there -- so that you show a little bit of breast, all inadvertent-like."

"Jeez, Sam! It sounds like a teen-ager's wet dream."

Sam smiled at Hugh Fulcher on the couch. "I admit I'm drawing on some memorable experiences I've had during my own innocent shopping excursions," he said. "The point is, Madeleine, I think all the men will look, but the regular guys will just file you away in their sweet memory book and go about their business.

"But our guy -- the Older Guy -- he won't. I think he'll hang around. I think he'll follow you when you leave."

"You think he'll shove my face down into the lake, like he did Emma Majeski -- right?"

"We don't have you down here to draw him into contact with you, one-on-one," Hugh Fulcher said. "Long before that could happen, we'd be all over the guy! We just want to find out who cares enough to actually tail you away from where he first saw you... so we can tail him.