“Just road noise,” Stone replied. “I’m in the car.”
“Where you headed?”
“Out of town.”
“Where?”
“If I wanted to get Holly and myself killed, I’d tell you.”
There was a long silence before Lance spoke again. “That’s an odd thing to say,” he said finally.
“I suppose it is,” Stone replied, “but you’re the only person in all this who has the resources to make what’s been happening happen.”
Another long silence. “That’s not an outrageous conclusion to come to, but why do you think I would want you dead?”
“I’m still thinking about that,” Stone said. He pressed the end button on the phone and put it back into its cradle. It was dark now, and the lights of the cities and towns of the Atlantic seaboard stretched out before them. He was glad to be leaving them behind.
32
STONE WOKE, DISORIENTED, with the sun streaming through the windows. He was alone in bed, and he couldn’t hear anyone downstairs.
He found a robe in a closet, put his cell phone in a pocket, and walked downstairs. Nice place, he thought, looking around the living room and the kitchen. He opened the sliding glass doors and stepped outside. Dunes stretched away to his left and right, and the Atlantic Ocean was only yards away. The air was warm and soft, and the small surf made a pleasant noise.
He looked up and down the beach and found himself alone, so he shucked off the robe and ran naked into the sea, running as far as he could, then diving in and swimming away from the shore. Fifty yards out, he turned and swam back in, found his robe, and went back into the house. He found juice, cereal, and milk in the kitchen and made himself some breakfast. He was having coffee when the telephone rang. He let the machine get it.
“Stone, it’s Holly,” she said. “If you’re awake, pick up.”
Stone picked up the phone on the kitchen counter. “Hi.”
“What time did you get up?”
“Just a few minutes ago. I had a swim and some breakfast.”
“Great. Make yourself at home. Daisy and I are at work, and I’ve got a lot of mail to clear up. Did you bring a gun with you?”
“Yep, I brought the Walther.”
“Good. I don’t like to think of you being unarmed, what with all that’s happened.”
“Neither do I. Can I carry in this state?”
“Not with the word ‘retired’ on your police ID. When you get dressed, come to the station and ask for my secretary. She’ll fix you up with something.” She gave him directions. “Use my car. The keys are in a bowl on the kitchen counter.”
“Sounds good.”
“I won’t be here when you come, and I won’t be home until around seven. Can you amuse yourself?”
“I’ll try.”
“See you then.” She hung up.
Stone took a shower and dressed in light clothes, then drove into town and, following Holly’s directions, found the station and asked for her secretary.
A middle-aged woman came to the front desk to get him. “Morning, Mr. Barrington. Would you come this way, please? We’re all ready for you.”
He followed her through the squad room to the rear of the building, where she stood him before a wall and took a photograph of him with a Polaroid passport camera.
She handed him a form and a pen. “Please sign at the bottom.”