Mean Woman Blues

me. It’s okay. I’ll just go home and…”
    “They’ll shoot you.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s our house. They can’t shoot a man in his own house.”
    “David, you can’t go there.”
    “Okay, okay. Why don’t we meet someplace else? We’ll just call the police from wherever it is, and, by then, everything will be all set up for the stupid feds to call off their dogs, and we can just put our feet up till our friends give us the word. And then we can go home. Together.”
    “Look, David. You really have no idea of the scope of this thing.”
    “And you really have no idea of the scope of my operation—
our
operation— sweetie pie. Remember what we talked about?” He made his voice turn to velvet. “It’s already in motion— has been for a long time. Just trust me, okay? How about your office? Why don’t you just go to the Right Woman office, and I’ll be there, and we’ll just ride this thing out together.”
    “My office?” She sounded like a zombie.
    “The storm troopers aren’t there, are they?”
    “No. At least I don’t think so. But they’re here. I can’t get away.”
    “Oh, yes you can. I’ve got an idea.”
    She didn’t speak, was probably too numb to answer him.
    “I know a place they won’t go.” He outlined his plan. “What do you think?”
    “Omigod,” she said. “You’re a genius. I’d never in a million years have thought of something like that.”
    “Just trust me, baby. Trust me, and do what I say, and we’ll be together real soon.”
    * * *
    Skip had left the McLeans’ house with a bad feeling. Exactly what was causing it she wasn’t sure, except the near-mythic way Jacomine loomed in her consciousness. He had no notion of his own limitations. He’d try to contact Karen, there was no question in her mind. But the question was this: Was Karen enough of a fool to believe the line of garbage he was bound to try to feed her?
    She didn’t seem a fool. Skip liked her. But she did seem a victim. Skip wished to hell she knew more about that baby thing.
    She went out and got in her rented car and sat there. The two feds watching Karen probably saw her, but she was betting they’d leave her alone.
    Karen didn’t even bother to check the street when she came out some twenty minutes later, probably trying to put on a casual show for the feds. She was still in her jeans and tank top, carrying a huge straw tote, clearly meant for the beach.
    She got in her car and started driving. The feds followed. Skip followed the feds. The caravan they made would have been comical seen from a satellite. On the ground, it probably wasn’t even noticeable. If the feds knew she was there, they evidently didn’t care.
    Bigger fish to fry
, Skip thought.
    Karen drove down Preston Road, past a huge, high-fenced area that looked like some oil man’s private estate. She took a right on Mockingbird Lane and in half a block, another right driving through a gate in the high fence she’d been following. A plaque on the wall said Dallas Country Club. The feds followed her in, past tennis courts on the left, a golf court on the right. On the other side of the tennis courts was a large parking lot for the clubhouse. Karen parked, unloaded her straw tote, which, Skip now saw was piled high with towels. She sauntered up to the clubhouse and sidestepped to the left where she looked down, called something to someone, and then entered the clubhouse. One of the feds got out of the car, ran to the place where she’d yelled to someone, and then followed Karen into the building. The other moved the car to a side entrance. If she came out there, the driver had her, but he could also see the front of the building.
    Skip parked, got out, and approached the building. She saw that to the left was a stairway down to a pool. Evidently Karen had yelled to someone there, perhaps along the lines of “see you in a minute.”
    Skip had three choices that she could see: watch Karen’s car, follow the fed following Karen, or try something else. Well, hell, if she waited here, she could see Karen’s car, the FBI car, and the pool area. If Karen came out for a swim, she could watch without being noticed.
    Karen hadn’t even had time to change to her swimsuit before the pedestrian fed scooted out, looking around wildly for his buddy. Evidently, Karen had escaped— or had made him think she had.
    To wait for her here or follow the feds? Maybe they knew something she didn’t. She opted for