it.
“Distinguished looking,” Stone said. “What about Crow?”
Holly tapped more keys. “He started a real estate business, buying dilapidated town houses and reselling them. That’s it.”
“Well, it’s a start, I guess. Want to go meet Barton Cabot?”
“Sure, but I need a shower.”
“Me, too.”
They showered together and made the most of it.
The touch of early autumn was in the trees along the shore of Lake Waramaug.
“This is beautiful,” Holly said.
“Hardly anyplace is more beautiful than Connecticut in the fall. It’ll be a little while longer before it’s in its glory.”
“Maybe I’ll stick around for it,” she said.
“How’s the work with Lance going?”
“I wish I could tell you the details; the information I have in my head these days is mind-boggling.”
“What about working with Lance?”
“I’m not the politician Lance is, but it’s very interesting to watch him operate. He misses nothing and uses everything to his advantage. He’s already cultivating the representatives and senators on the House and Senate intelligence committees. I’ve no doubt that he’ll succeed Kate Rule Lee when she goes.”
“He’s pretty young for that job.”
“He’s pretty young for the job he has now,” Holly pointed out.
They pulled into Barton’s driveway, drove out onto the little peninsula and stopped at the house. Floodlights under the eaves suddenly came on.
“Motion detectors,” Stone said. “Those lights didn’t come on the last time I was here.”
Barton stuck his head out the kitchen door, then came outside, his right hand behind his back.
“You think he’s going to shoot us?” Holly asked.
Stone stepped out of the car and raised a hand in greeting. “Remember me?” he asked.
“Of course, I remember you,” Barton said. “You think I’m an amnesiac?”
Stone laughed. “I want you to meet Holly Barker,” he said.
Holly got out of the car. “How do you do?”
“Well, hello, Holly Barker,” Barton replied. He moved his right hand behind his back, then brought it out to shake her hand. He was smiling. “Why don’t you two come in for some coffee?”
They followed him into the kitchen, where a housekeeper was at work, then into the study, and by the time they arrived there, Stone noticed that the pistol was no longer tucked into Barton’s belt behind his back. It somehow had disappeared on the way in.
The housekeeper came into the study bearing a tray that held coffee and cookies. She set it on the coffee table before the fireplace and left.
Barton poured for them. “So, Holly Barker, are you a Connecticut girl?”
“Nope, army brat, but I live in Virginia these days.”
“What brings you up here?”
“A little vacation. Stone offered me his house.”
Barton was about to reply when a tiny electronic beeping began. “Excuse me,” he said, moving quickly away from the coffee and toward a door. On his way he reached into a drawer and came out with a semiautomatic pistol. He closed the door behind him.
“What should we do?” Holly asked.
“He didn’t ask for help,” Stone replied.
14
They were still drinking their coffee when two gunshots interrupted them.
“Are you armed?” Holly asked.
“No.”
“I am,” she said. “Come on.”
Stone followed her, wondering how she had concealed a weapon under her tight jeans and close-fitting sweater. She stopped before going out the kitchen door, lifted a leg and removed a tiny semiautomatic pistol from a holster strapped to her right ankle. She looked out the kitchen window for a moment, then stepped outside. “Follow me, and stay behind me,” she said.
They were halfway to the barn when Barton Cabot stepped out from behind it, the pistol still in his hand. “Raccoon,” he said. “Missed him.”
Holly tucked the little pistol back into its ankle holster. “How do the neighbors feel about the gunfire?”
“Oh, they’ll think it’s a bird hunter in a field nearby,”
“Distinguished looking,” Stone said. “What about Crow?”
Holly tapped more keys. “He started a real estate business, buying dilapidated town houses and reselling them. That’s it.”
“Well, it’s a start, I guess. Want to go meet Barton Cabot?”
“Sure, but I need a shower.”
“Me, too.”
They showered together and made the most of it.
The touch of early autumn was in the trees along the shore of Lake Waramaug.
“This is beautiful,” Holly said.
“Hardly anyplace is more beautiful than Connecticut in the fall. It’ll be a little while longer before it’s in its glory.”
“Maybe I’ll stick around for it,” she said.
“How’s the work with Lance going?”
“I wish I could tell you the details; the information I have in my head these days is mind-boggling.”
“What about working with Lance?”
“I’m not the politician Lance is, but it’s very interesting to watch him operate. He misses nothing and uses everything to his advantage. He’s already cultivating the representatives and senators on the House and Senate intelligence committees. I’ve no doubt that he’ll succeed Kate Rule Lee when she goes.”
“He’s pretty young for that job.”
“He’s pretty young for the job he has now,” Holly pointed out.
They pulled into Barton’s driveway, drove out onto the little peninsula and stopped at the house. Floodlights under the eaves suddenly came on.
“Motion detectors,” Stone said. “Those lights didn’t come on the last time I was here.”
Barton stuck his head out the kitchen door, then came outside, his right hand behind his back.
“You think he’s going to shoot us?” Holly asked.
Stone stepped out of the car and raised a hand in greeting. “Remember me?” he asked.
“Of course, I remember you,” Barton said. “You think I’m an amnesiac?”
Stone laughed. “I want you to meet Holly Barker,” he said.
Holly got out of the car. “How do you do?”
“Well, hello, Holly Barker,” Barton replied. He moved his right hand behind his back, then brought it out to shake her hand. He was smiling. “Why don’t you two come in for some coffee?”
They followed him into the kitchen, where a housekeeper was at work, then into the study, and by the time they arrived there, Stone noticed that the pistol was no longer tucked into Barton’s belt behind his back. It somehow had disappeared on the way in.
The housekeeper came into the study bearing a tray that held coffee and cookies. She set it on the coffee table before the fireplace and left.
Barton poured for them. “So, Holly Barker, are you a Connecticut girl?”
“Nope, army brat, but I live in Virginia these days.”
“What brings you up here?”
“A little vacation. Stone offered me his house.”
Barton was about to reply when a tiny electronic beeping began. “Excuse me,” he said, moving quickly away from the coffee and toward a door. On his way he reached into a drawer and came out with a semiautomatic pistol. He closed the door behind him.
“What should we do?” Holly asked.
“He didn’t ask for help,” Stone replied.
14
They were still drinking their coffee when two gunshots interrupted them.
“Are you armed?” Holly asked.
“No.”
“I am,” she said. “Come on.”
Stone followed her, wondering how she had concealed a weapon under her tight jeans and close-fitting sweater. She stopped before going out the kitchen door, lifted a leg and removed a tiny semiautomatic pistol from a holster strapped to her right ankle. She looked out the kitchen window for a moment, then stepped outside. “Follow me, and stay behind me,” she said.
They were halfway to the barn when Barton Cabot stepped out from behind it, the pistol still in his hand. “Raccoon,” he said. “Missed him.”
Holly tucked the little pistol back into its ankle holster. “How do the neighbors feel about the gunfire?”
“Oh, they’ll think it’s a bird hunter in a field nearby,”
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