Loitering With Intent (Stone Barrington 16)

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L o i t e r i n g w i t h I n t e n t

“Too many deaths by poisoning in one family, huh?”

“Yes, but if he had somebody put a bullet in you in Key West, he’s going to be far removed from the crime scene, isn’t he? You’d just be another rich boy who mingled with the wrong people, nothing to do with him.”

“I guess that would work for him,” Evan said.

“Tell me something: Do you think it’s possible your father had something to do with the killing of your friend Charley Boggs?

Could a hit man have gotten the two of you mixed up?”

“I doubt that,” Evan said. “Charley had a beard, remember?”

“Maybe you’ve been in Key West for too long,” Stone said. “Maybe you’d be more comfortable in a different state.”

“Maybe,” Evan said. “How about it, babe?” he said to Gigi. “You ready to move on?”

“I like it here,” Gigi replied.

“As a matter of fact, so do I,” Evan said. “I guess I’ll take my chances.”

“Well, Evan,” Stone said, “you’re the only guy I know who, upon being told there was a contract out on him, would just sit tight and wait for a hit man to show up.”

“Stone, you had a pretty hard time finding me, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Well, why do you think some stupid ex-con would have an easier time of it?”

“If he’s as stupid as you think, then he might not find you. Or he might get lucky. Or if he’s a real pro, he might find you faster than I did and you won’t see him coming.”

“Gigi will,” Evan said, smiling at her.

“I hope you’re right,” Stone said. “You’ve got your grandfather’s phone number?”

“I don’t expect it’s changed.”

“Then I’ll be saying goodbye, Evan; my work here is done.” Stone stood up.

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S t u a r t W o o d s

“I guess it is, at that,” Evan said, offering him a hand. “Please don’t worry about me.”

Stone shook the hand. “I’ll try and put the whole business out of my mind,” he said. “But I’ll watch the business pages to see how the sale of Elijah Keating’s Sons turns out.”

“So will I,” Evan said. He went to the helm and started the engines.

“I’ll cast you off,” Stone said.

“Thanks.”

Stone walked down the dock and untied the bow line, the springs and the stern line, coiled them and tossed them to Gigi. He watched them ease out of the berth and turn toward the channel, and he noticed that there was no longer a name on the boat’s stern. He supposed Evan hadn’t thought of one yet. Stone walked back into the yacht club and to Tommy’s table.

“Your food’s getting cold,” Tommy said.