Stuart Woods 6 Stone Barrington Novels by Stuart Woods Page A

own a gun?”
    â€œI think so,” she replied. “At least, he said he did. I’ve never seen a gun in the house.”
    â€œDo you know how to fire a gun?” Stone asked.
    â€œMy father taught me to fire a rifle, a twenty-two, when I was sixteen.”
    â€œDid he teach you how to fire a pistol, too?”
    She shook her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever even held a pistol.”
    â€œWell,” Dr. Judson said, “I think we’ve covered about enough for now.”
    â€œIs Peter all right?” Arrington asked.
    â€œYour mother wants to take him back to Virginia with her for a visit.”
    â€œI think that’s a good idea,” Arrington said, nodding. “I want to say good-bye to him.”
    â€œSuppose you telephone him,” the doctor said.
    â€œYes, I could do that.” She turned to Stone. “Tell me the truth. I’m not crazy, and I want to know. Is Vance dead?”
    â€œYes,” Stone replied. “I’m afraid he is.”
    She was silent, seeming to think hard. “Who’s taking care of everything?” she asked finally.
    â€œYou mean the house? The servants are there.”
    â€œNo, I mean, there has to be a funeral; things have to be done; decisions made. I don’t know if I can do this.”
    â€œI’ll help in any way I can,” Stone said. He had intended to bring this up, himself.
    â€œOh, would you handle things, Stone? There are legal matters, too, I’m sure.”
    â€œWho is your lawyer?” Stone asked.
    â€œYou are, I guess; I don’t have another one. Vance has one, but I can’t think of his name.”
    â€œWould you like me to represent you both legally and personally?” Stone asked.
    â€œOh, yes, please, Stone. I’d feel so much better, if I knew you were handling everything.”
    â€œWhat about medical decisions?”
    â€œI’ll make those myself,” she said. “Unless I’m not able to, then I’d like you to make those decisions, too.”
    Stone opened a hotel envelope and took out a sheaf of papers. “Dr. Judson, do you believe that Arrington is capable of making decisions about her affairs?”
    â€œI don’t see any reason why she shouldn’t,” the doctor replied.
    â€œDo you have a notary public here?”
    â€œMy secretary,” he said, picking up a phone.
    The woman arrived shortly with her stamp.
    Stone explained each of the documents to Arrington—a general power of attorney, a medical authorization, an agreement appointing him as her attorney, and a letter addressed, “To whom it may concern,” stating that Stone had authority to act on her behalf in all matters, business and personal. When everything had been signed, notarized, and witnessed by the doctor, Stone kissed Arrington good-bye.
    â€œI’ll be back to see you tomorrow and bring you up to date on events,” he said. “Why don’t you call your mother now, and say good-bye to Peter?”
    â€œAll right. Stone, I’d like it very much if you would stay in our . . . my home; it would be comforting to know you are there. Manolo and the staff will make you comfortable in the guesthouse, and use the phones, the cars, anything you need.”
    â€œThank you, I may do that,” Stone said. “I’m going to go over there now and drive your mother and Peter to the airport. Will you tell her I’m on my way?”
    â€œYes, of course.”
    â€œIs there another way to the house besides through the front gate?”
    â€œYes, there’s a service entrance about a hundred yards down the road, and there’s a utility service road into the back of the property; you enter it from the street behind. I’ll tell Manolo to open it for you.”
    â€œThanks, that would be good.” He kissed her again and left with the doctor. “What did you think, Jim?” Stone asked as they walked down the