D.C. Dead (Stone Barrington 22)
Page 9
The first lady spoke up. “Call Holly first, and if she doesn’t satisfy you, call me at my office. My secretary will know your names. If we need to meet again, we’ll do it here. In the meantime, the White House staff will be apprised of your identities, and you may prowl around with an escort appointed by the chief of staff, Tim Coleman. Just call him, if you need to.”
Stone and Dino said their good-byes, and Holly left with them.
When they were in the eleinoe in thvator, Stone asked, “Holly, what have you gotten us into?”
“After you’ve read the file, you can tell me,” she replied. “Where did you choose to stay?”
“At the Hay-Adams.”
“Nice. Are you sharing a room?”
“No, Dino has his own accommodations.”
“Good, then you may invite me back for a drink,” she said. “I’ll drive myself and meet you there.”
The elevator doors opened, and the
y w
ere escorted back to the entrance, where their cars awaited.
5
STONE AND DINO GOT OUT OF THEIR SINISTER SUV AT THE Hay-Adams, and Holly pulled in behind them. Stone turned to Dino. “Go to your room,” he said.
“Yes, Poppa, and be sure to close your door so I can’t hear your pitiful cries.”
Stone opened the car door for Holly and told the valet to put it on his tab.
“Where’s Dino?” Holly asked.
“He’s been sent to his room.”
“Oh, good.”
Stone led her to the elevator and thence to the suite.
“My goodness,” Holly said, “is the Agency paying for this?”
“Only to the extent of your miserable per diem,” Stone replied. “Drink?”
“Oh, yes; brandy, please.”
Stone poured them each one from the generous bar on the sideboard, and they sat down on the sofa, with the sight of the brightly lit White House through the French doors in the distance. Dino’s door was tightly shut.
Holly set down her glass, took Stone’s face in her hands, and kissed him firmly, then she picked up her glass again and took a sip. “I want to tell you some things,” she said. “Personal things.”
“All right,” Stone said, not sure where this was leading.
“I know, perhaps better than anyone else, what you’ve been going through since Arrington’s death.”
Stone said nothing.
“You’ll remember, since you were a witness to his murder during that bank robbery, that the love of my life, Jackson Oxenhand-ler, was taken from me in much the same way that Arrington was taken from you.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“I remember what I went through during the months that followed. I remember the dreams I had, the yearnings that could not be fulfilled, the pain, the constant pain. The pain, by the way, lessens after a while, then goes away.”