“No problem, Mr. Rockefeller,” I replied.I arrived at the Fraziers’ house at six in the evening. My date with Cindi was starting early because the street festival ended at nine. The festival was really an outdoor arts and crafts show that showcased the talents of the many artists who used Palmdale as their winter home. Many of the artists exhibited their winter’s work before snow birding back north. There was a lot of money in Palmdale, thanks to the Turners, so well heeled collectors snapped up most of the art on exhibit.Mr. and Mrs. Frazier did not fit my idea of people involved in the funeral home business. They both had these really skewed senses of humor; I could tell right away where Cindi’s wit originated. They were also the reason Cindi spoke with a genteel southern drawl. I introduced myself to Mr. Frazier as soon as he opened the door for me. He shook my hand and ushered me into the living room.“I know your father, Johnny, he takes care of our fleet, and I know you. The material could anchor or grip any material. They'd warned him to make sure the material he anchored to could support him. He crouched, careful not to add his body weight to the rear of the vehicle while it was motionless."I'll see you in another forty-five," the driver said.The gate opened and the Toyota began to roll.Scott made his move and clung to the side of the SUV like a frog, below the window line, but in full view of the side mirror.The gnat probe flew alongside the vehicle. From its viewpoint, the suit was doing its job. He was masked.A little hitchhiking was going to save him precious time because his destination, the hangar, was a good mile from the guard shack.When the map showed he was going to make the closest approach to the hanger, he slipped from the side of the vehicle and landed in a crouch.As a defense contractor, the company had to provide a certain level of security to meet Pentagon requirements. The contractor depended on technology and a moderate guard.
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