Carnal Curiosity - Stuart Woods Page 0,30

that I thought was no longer necessary, but as it’s turned out, I’m loving being in and around the film business, and so is Betsy. I started just doing odd jobs for them, but I’ve taken on more and more responsibility to the point where I’m working as an associate producer, and the boys have intimated that I might be producing my own films at some time in the near future. Betsy has taken over their travel and public relations department, and she’s very good at it.”

“Well, I’m happy for you both, Billy,” Mike said, “though I’m sorry you won’t be joining Strategic Services.”

“Thank you, Mike.”

“But there’s another cause for celebration.” Mike took an envelope from his pocket and held on to it for a moment. “This is a gift from Stone Barrington. He is very grateful to you for protecting Peter and for your friendship.” Mike handed over the envelope, but Billy didn’t open it.

“That’s very kind of him, Mike, but entirely unnecessary. Accepting money for what I did would lessen the good feeling I got from doing it.”

“It’s not money, Billy. Please open the envelope.”

Billy turned it over and looked at it, then he saw the rear flap. THE WHITE HOUSE, WASHINGTON, D.C. was printed on it. He opened the envelope and unfolded the certificate, signed by the president. Unexpectedly for both of them, Billy’s eyes welled with tears. “How is this possible?” he finally managed to ask.

“It’s possible because Stone Barrington is a very good friend of Will and Kate Lee,” Mike said.

“I feel very strange,” Billy said.

“Perhaps a little celebratory champagne will settle you.” He raised his glass again. “The future,” he said.

Billy raised his glass and sipped. “Suddenly, I feel that I have one. For a long time now, I’ve expected the life I’m leading to come to a sudden end at any moment.”

“The pardon brings with it the deletion of every mention of your name from every law enforcement database. You’re now a free man in every sense of the word. You can go back to calling yourself Teddy Fay, if you wish.”

Billy smiled. “I don’t think that name has been deleted from every database,” he said.

“There won’t be any public announcement,” Mike said. “The president issued the pardon under seal, because of your past association with the CIA. You can go right on being Billy Burnett, if you like, but don’t flash that pardon to anyone, except in extreme circumstances.”

“Well, I’ve devoted considerable time to building my identity,” Billy said. “I’ve got a valid birth certificate, a genuine passport and driver’s license and Social Security number, credit cards, bank accounts, the works. It would be a great deal of trouble to change my name again, so I think I’ll just stick with William James Burnett. I’ve come to rather like the guy.”

They drank more champagne, then had a good lunch.

—

That evening, Billy took Betsy to dinner at Michael’s, in Santa Monica, their favorite restaurant, and broke the news to her.

Betsy blinked. “You mean I won’t be Mrs. Burnett anymore? I’ll be Mrs. Fay?”

“No, we’re going to stick with Mr. and Mrs. Burnett,” Billy said. “Teddy Fay is still an infamous name in some quarters, even though the pardon removes it from all the federal and state law enforcement databases. I think we’ll let Mr. Fay rest in peace.”

“I’m so happy for you, Billy,” Betsy said. They finished their dinner, then went back to the apartment in Peter Barrington’s hangar at Santa Monica Airport.

As they crawled into bed, Billy said, “How would you like to live in a real house? We can go shopping for one tomorrow.”

“Oh, Billy,” she said, “in my whole life I’ve never lived in anything but furnished rooms, public housing, motels, and apartments. I would just love living in my own house.”

“Consider it done,” Billy said.

25

At mid-morning the following day, at the building near Washington, D.C., called Black Rock, which housed the National Security Agency, Deputy Director Scott Hipp sat, with a stack of files on his desk, doing personnel reviews. There was a soft knock at his open door, and he looked up to see Kathy Dorr, a young woman who was one of his brighter minions, standing there.

“Got just a moment, sir?”

“Sure, Kathy, come in and take a seat.”

She sat down and came directly to the point. “In conducting the daily review of the past twenty-four hours of our computer communications data scan, something interesting popped up.” Dorr handed the sheet of paper in her hand to Hipp.

Hipp