Dark Rivers of the Heart

laws as blunt tools of political repression. Every month they retreated further from their traditional cooperation in criminal cases.
        "What's the other taco?" Roy asked.
        "Huh?"
        "The second taco. You said you had two tacos to feed me."
        "Enchiladas," Duvall said. "Two enchiladas of information."
        "Well, I'm hungry," Roy said pleasantly. He was proud of his patience, after all the tests to which the Mormon cops had put it. "So why don't you heat up that second enchilada?"
        Gary Duvall served it to him, and it was as tasty as promised.
        The moment he hung up on Duvall, Roy called the Vegas office and spoke to Ken Hyckman, who would soon conclude his shift as the morning duty officer. "Ken, where's that jetranger?"
        "Ten minutes from you."
        "I'm going to send it back with most of the men here."
        "You're giving up?"
        "You know we've lost radar contact on them."
        "Right."
        "They're gone, and we're not going to reconnect with them that way.
        But I have another lead, a good one, and I'm jumping on it. I need a jet."
        "Jesus."
        "I didn't say I needed to hear a little profanity."
        "Sorry."
        "What about the Lear I came in on Friday night?"
        "It's still here. Serviced and ready."
        "Is there anywhere in my vicinity it can land, any military base where I could meet it?"
        "Let me check," Hyckman said, and he put Roy on hold.
        While he waited, Roy thought about Eve jammer. He would not be able to return to Las Vegas that evening. He wondered what his blond sweetness would do to remember him and to keep him in her heart. She had said that it would be something special. He assumed she would practice new positions, if there were any, and try out erotic aids that she had never used before, in order to prepare an experience for him that, a night or two hence, would leave him shuddering and breathless as never before.
        When he attempted to imagine what those erotic aids might be, his head spun. And his mouth went as dry as sand-which was perfect.
        Ken Hyckman came back on the line. "We can put the Lear down right there in Cedar City."
        "'This bur can take a Lear?"
        "Brian Head is just twenty-nine miles east of there."
        "Not who. What. First-rate ski resort, lots of pricey homes up on the mountain. Lots of rich people and corporations own condos in Brian Head, bring their jets in to Cedar City and drive up from there.
        It doesn't have anything like O'Hare or LAX, no bars and newsstands and baggage carousels, but the airfield can handle long landing requirements."
        "Is a crew standing by with the Lear?"
        "Absolutely. We can get them out of McCarran and to you by one o'clock."
        "Terrific. I'll ask one of the grinning gendarmes to drive me to the airfield."
        "Who?
        "One of the courteous constables," Roy said. He was in a fine mood again.
        "I'm not sure this scrambler is giving me what you're saying."
        "One of the Mormon marshals."
        Either getting the point or deciding that he didn't need to understand, Hyckman said, "They'll have to file a flight plan here.
        Where are you going from Cedar City?"
        "Denver," Roy said.
        Slumped in the last seat in the starboard aisle, Ellie dozed on and off for a couple of hours. In fourteen months as a fugitive, she had learned to put aside her fears and worries, sleeping whenever she had a chance.
        Shortly after she woke, while she was stretching and yawning, Spencer returned from an extended visit with the two-man crew. He sat across from her.
        As Rocky curled up in the aisle at his feet, Spencer said, "More good news. According to the boys, this is an extensively customized eggbeater.
        For one thing, they have jumped-up engines on this baby, so we can carry an extra-heavy load, which allows them to saddle her with big auxiliary fuel tanks. She's got a lot more range than the standard model. They're sure they can get us all the way across the border and past Grand junction before there's any danger of the tanks running dry, if we want to go that far."
        "The farther the better," she said. "But not right in or around Grand Junction. We don't want to be seen by a lot of curious people.
        Better out somewhere, but not so far out that we can't find wheels