Double Jeopardy (Stone Barrington #57)(13)
“It helped a lot that they are real people, and what I read you is their real background.”
“How much to rent them?”
“They don’t rent out. I think they’ll be happy with a free, comfortably furnished house.”
“Do they know what they might be up against?”
“They’re being briefed as we speak and reading up on the twins. When they’re done, I’ll put the offer to them. Will they have any special duties?”
“Just to live normal lives and not get killed.”
“I’ll get back to you, probably tomorrow.” Lance hung up.
Stone began to feel better about the summer ahead.
12
Stone called Dino.
“Bacchetti.”
“It’s Stone. How soon can you start your extended leave?”
“What time is it now?”
“Ten-fifty-one.”
“Give me until five o’clock to get my desk cleared and distribute some work I should be doing myself.”
“That fast?”
“You need faster? I’ll work on it.”
“What got you so motivated?”
“Have you seen the weather forecast?”
“No.”
“It’s going to be ninety-five in the shade in New York tomorrow. There’ll be a high of seventy-three in Bar Harbor.”
“Say no more. Pick me up at eight AM; wheels up at nine-thirty.”
“Viv’s coming, too.”
“Great, tell her I’m working on a new best friend for her.”
“What about me?”
“You, too.”
“I mean, besides you.”
“Besides me.”
“Tell me about them.”
“I’m going to let you find out about them the same way everybody else does.”
“Who are you bringing?”
“Nobody.”
“That won’t last long.”
“From your lips to God’s ear.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Stone hung up and buzzed Joan. “We’re winging our way north to Maine tomorrow. Wheels up at nine-thirty; tell Faith to get it together.”
“How long will you be there?”
“Remains to be seen.”
“Can I come?”
“Are you kidding?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Somebody’s got to keep this ship afloat.”
* * *
—
Their flight in Stone’s Gulfstream 500 departed on time, with Stone at the controls. An hour later they landed in Rockland, Maine, and taxied to the ramp, where Stone’s Cessna 182 awaited. Luggage was shifted, and Stone turned over the G-500 to his pro pilot, Faith, and her hired copilot for the return trip to Teterboro. The short flight to Islesboro took less than fifteen minutes. As they turned final, for the runway, Stone glanced at the inbound ferry and saw a two-car flatbed truck was along for the ride from Lincolnville to Islesboro, carrying a station wagon and a convertible.
They landed and parked on the ramp there. Seth Hotchkiss, Stone’s caretaker, awaited in the household’s 1938 Ford woodie station wagon. Ten minutes later, they were home.
Stone’s house had a family history, and a sad one. His first cousin Dick Stone and his wife and daughter were murdered there and the crime had been staged to make it look like a murder/suicide. Stone had inherited a lifetime occupancy of Dick’s house, which had been bequeathed to a charity that assisted widows and orphans of CIA officers. Stone subsequently bought the property from the charity. Dick had been promoted to deputy director for operations, or DDO, but never had the opportunity to take office.
The house was a bulwark of personal safety. Built from CIA plans, it was sheathed in steel plating, rather than plywood, then the traditional cedar shingles over that. Still, the Stone family’s murderers had managed entry. Stone knew in his bones that the twin sons of Dick’s brother, Caleb, had committed the deed, though he couldn’t prove it conclusively. The twins later confessed, when caught, of murdering Caleb and his wife, their parents.
They had some lunch, then Stone got up from the table. “I want to go over to the Dark Harbor Shop, get the New York Times, and have a word with Billy Hotchkiss.”
“I’ll come along,” Dino said.
“I’ll have a nap,” Viv said.
* * *
—
Stone and Dino drove over in the little 1954 MG TF 1500 that had been restored by Dick. Billy was at his desk, as usual. “Welcome back,” he said. “You, too, Dino.”
The two men each pulled up a stool. “How much do you know?” Stone asked.
Billy lowered his voice; a customer or two wandered the shop. “I know that the folks from down south are called Henry Lee and Grace Jackson, and that they’re arriving tomorrow afternoon in their own airplane.”
“What kind of airplane?”
Billy consulted his notepad. “A Pilatus, a Swiss single-engine turboprop.”
“Plenty of runway for that. How’s Tracey coming along with the house?”
“I think you know she has a truckload of furniture arriving from New York tomorrow at midday. By then, everything in the house will be in its place, ready to take the furniture. The Jacksons’ two cars were shipped up here and arrived on the ferry half an hour ago—a Mercedes E450 station wagon and an S550 convertible, both with Georgia plates. The convertible is being unloaded at the house, now. The station wagon was left at the airport for their arrival.”