Wild Card (Stone Barrington #49)(46)

“So everybody’s a pro.”

“People like the Thomases don’t hire their assassins at the unemployment office. Like you say, everybody’s a pro.”

Viv spoke up. “All went smoothly for Jamie in Atlanta.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Stone said. “The way you’ve arranged the signing audiences is very good.”

“Thank you. I wish we’d started her out at Teterboro, instead of LaGuardia. That was my mistake; I didn’t believe they would try it.”

“How about other people at the Times? Any threats?”

“All the principals are under guard. The computer kid, Huey, vanished. Apparently he went underground.”

“I’ll bet he’s in his new apartment, which is under construction.”

Viv looked at him, surprised. “Nobody at the Times told us about that.”

“Probably because he didn’t tell anybody at the Times about it.”

“Then we’re guarding what must be his old apartment.”

Stone wrote the new address down and gave it to her. “Be discreet,” he said. “The kid would probably rather not know your people are there.”



* * *



? ? ?

Annie Lee awoke, naked, in the king-sized bed in Ari’s suite. He was sitting at his computer in his pajamas. She reflected on their night together. Having sex with someone who didn’t like to be touched was a new experience for her. Still, if he had been awkward, he had also been enthusiastic, once they started. She was not all that experienced herself, having a strict father.

She got up, put on a robe, then went and stood behind him.

“William called,” Ari said. “He had the results of some private, overnight polling: it wasn’t a big sample, but it shows Box with a six-point lead over the incumbent Republican congressman, who won the seat last time by twenty-two points.”

“Wow, that’s progress!” Annie said.

He turned to face her and, to her surprise, put his hands on her hips. “What did you think about the sex last night?” he asked. “It was my first time, so I don’t have anything to compare it to.”

“I’ve only had sex twice before,” she said, “so I’m not way ahead of you.”

“What did you think, compared to the other two?”

“The other one,” she said. “Twice.”

“Okay.”

“I thought it was very, very good,” she said. “It will only get better, as we become accustomed to each other. I warn you, you are now subject to being murdered by my father, should he ever suspect us of this.”

He pushed her back and looked into her face. “Was that a joke?” he asked. “I’m never sure when you’re joking.”

“It wasn’t entirely a joke,” she replied.

“I don’t understand. What does that mean?”

“It means that, should we ever find ourselves in the company of my father, you should not touch me or speak to me affectionately or do anything else that might allow him to think for a moment that we have had sex.”

“I understand that,” Ari said. “Maybe you should just keep me away from him.”

“Good advice,” she said.





36


Elise Grant went into Henry Thomas’s office without knocking, as she had been instructed to do, and set his mail on his desk. He was meeting with his grandson, Hank, and Rance Damien. They immediately switched to a Sicilian dialect, which they did not know she understood—her mother being Sicilian. She had failed to note that language skill on her employment application and was not sorry. She had heard some pretty good stuff.

“Sit down for a moment, Elise,” Henry said in English. “I want you to take a letter for me when we’re done.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, taking a chair against the wall.

They switched back to Sicilian. “I understand everything went wrong yesterday,” Henry said. “Rance?”

Damien shifted in his chair. “Our people did not realize that Cox had security that would follow her into the ladies’ room,” he said. “They stuck to the plan and got away, but left their weapons, which were clean in every respect. We had more luck with the girl, Sherry.”

Elise wanted to pee in her pants, but she held on.

“We had a man across the street who shot her in the head. But she survived and is at Bellevue, in a protected ward, so we can’t get at her.”

“She survived a head shot?” Hank asked, incredulous.

“It was a small-caliber round, to keep the noise down—and I didn’t want her head exploding like a watermelon. The angle wasn’t right.”

“Can we get at her?”

“No, her area is under twenty-four-hour police guard. There are a couple of murder witnesses in the ward, too.”

Henry took a sip of water from a glass, then turned to Elise. “Please get me some ice for my water.”

Elise rose, went to the door, then ran for the ladies’ room, getting there just in time. Then she ran to the ice machine, filled an ice bucket, and went back to Henry’s office, where they were still speaking Sicilian. She poured him a fresh glass, then resumed her seat.