Stone signed. She went away and came back with a laminated ID card and a badge in their own wallet.
“Congratulations, you are now a consultant lieutenant with the Orchid Beach Police Department, without pay.”
“Thank you.”
He went back to the car, opened the glove compartment, and took out the Walther in a Galco Executive shoulder holster. He got into the light harness and put his windbreaker on over it. “Now I’m armed and dangerous,” he said aloud to himself.
That evening Stone, Holly, Ham, and his girlfriend, Ginny, a lovely redhead, were at a table at the Ocean Grill, in nearby Vero Beach, sipping vodka gimlets.
“Stone,” Holly said, “do you think Lance could have had anything to do with the people who’ve been trying to kill you and me?”
“It crossed my mind,” Stone said. “Certainly, he has the resources to do it.”
“I can’t think of a motive, can you?”
“Not so far. I can’t think of anything we know that we shouldn’t know. I think it’s a better guess that somebody in the FBI is talking to Trini about us, but I can’t see the FBI sanctioning the killing of two citizens. The whole thing is baffling.”
Ham spoke up. “I think it’s Trini, one way or another, and I don’t think he needs the FBI to help him. From what Holly has told me, he could have followed her to your house, so he would know about you. And just because the Feds are following you, that doesn’t mean that Trini’s people can’t follow you, as well. Lance doesn’t have any reason to kill two people who are supposed to be working for him.”
“Apart from that,” Holly said, “Lance just doesn’t strike me as the killer type.”
“There are all sorts of killer types,” Stone said.
“Too true,” Ham echoed.
Their dinner arrived and they turned the conversation to other things.
They had just arrived back at Holly’s house when Stone’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. “Hello?”
“Stone, it’s Lance.”
“Good evening.”
“Our last conversation set me to thinking. I ordered a DNA check of our three anonymous assassins, and I just got a call from my people with the results.”
“You have a database to check the results against?”
“Yes, but they’re not in our database, or the FBI’s.”
“So the tests were useless?”
“As far as identification goes, yes; but the tests turned up some other useful information.”
“What kind of information?”
“It was possible to conclude that all three men were Arab—very likely Lebanese or Syrian.”
“You can tell that from DNA?”
“Yes. Also, they were related—not brothers, but certainly cousins.”
Stone looked at Holly. “So you’
re saying that the people who are trying to kill Holly and me are a family of Lebanese or Syrian assassins?”
“You make it sound like something out of The Arabian Nights. More likely, the three cousins are members of the same terrorist cell, that’s all.”
“What do you mean, that’s all? That’s more than enough. Why would a terrorist cell have an interest in Holly and me?”