Dark Harbor (Stone Barrington 12)

“Remember where you are, boy. Things like this just don’t happen on this island. There are no perverts kidnapping seventeen-year-old girls on Islesboro.”

“Right, and no hitmen murdering ex-CIA officers and their families, either. Do you have any details of the girl’s disappearance?”

“Her mother told me Janey went to a friend’s house for dinner last night, and when she wasn’t home by ten o’clock, Martha called the house, and they said Janey had been gone for over an hour. The houses are only a quarter of a mile apart, and Janey would have walked home along the road. She had a flashlight. The Harrises went looking for her, and they found her flashlight in the road. That was all they found.”

“I don’t suppose there are bears on the island?”

“Not since before World War Two, and I doubt if she was attacked by raccoons.”

“What could possibly connect Janey’s disappearance with Don’s death?”

“All I can do is guess. Maybe they both knew something about somebody that they shouldn’t have known.”

“But what could they possibly know?”

“Maybe they found out who killed Dick and his family.”

“That seems farfetched; if Don had known something about that, he’d have told you, wouldn’t he?”

“He would have, if he’d lived through the night,” Rawls said. “Remember, he wanted to meet the next day, said he had something to tell me.”

“Why didn’t he just tell you on the phone when he called?”

“People in our line of work have a nicely developed aversion to passing important information on the phone. It’s not that he would have thought his line was tapped; it’s just that he would have been uncomfortable discussing something like that, except face to face.”

“But how does Janey come into it?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” Rawls said. “I’m going to talk to everybody who clapped eyes on Don and Janey the day Don died. I should have done it sooner.” He got into the Range Rover and drove away.

Stone went back into the house. He wasn’t about to mention this to Arrington.

Chapter 30

THEY HAD AN ESPECIALLY good dinner that evening: Seth had found some lobsters, and his wife had steamed them perfectly. There were clams, too, and corn on the cob, dripping with butter, and two bottles of a Beringer reserve chardonnay from Dick’s cellar.

After dinner they moved into the study, where Arrington removed a Scrabble board in a bookcase, and they played game after game until they were all sleepy. Arrington sent Peter to bed, and after a while, the adults drifted upstairs.

Stone and Arrington made wonderful love for nearly an hour, fueled by the good wine and good feeling from their evening, then they lay in each other’s arms, getting their breath back.

Stone stroked her hair and kissed her on the forehead. “You know,” he said, “we really ought to start thinking about making this a more permanent relationship.”

Arrington sat up in bed and tucked her legs under her. “I’ve thought about that a lot,” she said, “and it wouldn’t work.”

Stone said nothing, just waited for her to continue.

“First of all, I love you, Stone, and I always will, and I know you love me in the same way.”

“That’s perfectly true,” Stone said, “but somehow I don’t see that as an impediment to a relationship.”

“Think about our lives,” she said. “They’re completely incompatible.”

“I don’t see why.”

“Then I’ll explain it to you. Peter and I live in Virginia, and we both love it there. You wouldn’t last a month in Virginia. You need New York: You need Elaine’s and you need to earn a living, and New York is the only place you can do that. Sure, you could hang out a shingle in Virginia, but you’d hate the work, and although I’m certainly rich enough to support you in the style to which you’ve become accustomed, you’d never let me do that, and I’d have a lot less respect for you if you did.

“Peter is in a wonderful school that will take him right through high school, and when he’s ready for college he’ll be able to choose between the Ivy League and the University of Virginia, which is right down the road, in Charlottesville. I know you can raise children in New York, but I would never subject him to the tilings we’d have to do to keep him safe: limos to school, organized play groups, security guards. In Virginia he’ll be able to ride his terse every day, ride it to school in a couple of years. He has the fields and woods to roam and plenty of great, unspoiled kids his own age.”

“You don’t want to get married again, do you?” Stone asked.