Double Jeopardy (Stone Barrington #57)(41)

“Sally’s been working on cooking Southern,” Ed said. “She’s getting good at it.”

“I like it myself,” Sally said.

There was a tiny noise from somewhere. Ed stopped eating and listened for a moment. “Just the house settling a little,” he said.

“It does that sometimes,” Sally agreed.

“Ed, did you restock those rocket-launched grenades?” Stone asked. “I think we used them up the last time we were in a situation like this.”

“I’ve got three,” Ed replied. “That sort of materiel is hard to come by up here. I have to wait for out-of-town visitors.”

“Would one of those burn them out?”

“It would knock a corner off their house, but I don’t think an RPG would torch it, unless, of course, there was a propane tank involved.”

“Where is their propane tank?”

“Buried on the other side of the house.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”





36

Viv, Carly, Primmy, Dino, and Lance sat in Stone’s living room, having an after-dinner cognac. Lance’s phone purred.

“Yes?” He listened for a moment. “Are we going to have this problem again? Is that the best answer you can give me? It better be.” He hung up. “Our security system has been reprogrammed, rebooted, and is now operational.”

“For how long?” Primmy asked.

“Don’t be a cynic, Primmy.”

“Your questions sounded pretty cynical to me,” she said.

“I have to sound that way for effect sometimes.” He thought about that. “Sometimes I think that half of what I say is for effect.”

“What is Stone doing right now?” Carly asked.

“Probably what we’re doing,” Dino said. “They’ll be fully battened down, though.”

“I think I’ve just fully realized that Tim is dead, and I’m not,” Carly said.

“Would you have it any other way?” Dino asked.

“I’d rather have both of us alive.”

Dino shrugged. “You have to take things as they come. Change them, if you can, but that can take a while.”

“Oh, Dino,” Viv said. “You always sound so wise on your second brandy.”

“Cognac releases my wisdom,” Dino replied.

“Sometimes,” Viv said.



* * *



—

Stone, Sally, and Ed had finished dinner, and Ed was checking a gunport. “Uh-oh,” he said.

Stone grabbed his rifle and went to his own port and peered out. “What’s that?” he asked.

“Flashing lights,” Ed said. “Like on a police car.”

“The only police cars on the island arrived after Tom Young came in on the chopper.”

“Well, they’re up and running,” Ed replied. “Here they come, and they’re cuffed.”

Stone looked out the port and thought he saw the twins being bundled into a car. “What will they do with them? The ferry’s down for the night.”

“I expect they’ve got other transportation,” Ed said. “A boat, or better still, their chopper.” As if responding, rotors could be heard turning. “They’re choppering them to their office. Let’s go.” He got up and opened the door.

“Go where?” Stone asked.

“I’m tired of staring at the outside of that house,” Ed said. “I want to see the inside.”



* * *



—

They got into Ed’s car and drove up to the house, which was brightly lit from indoors and out.

“You don’t suppose they have help in there, do you?” Stone asked.

“Who’d help the sons of bitches?” Rawls said. “Anyway, they’ve always done everything alone together.” He parked the car, and they got out. Ed walked up the front stairs.

“What about their security system?” Stone asked.

“I doubt if Tom gave them time to set it. Anyway, who’d hear it if it went off?”

“We would,” Stone said, covering his ears while Ed fiddled with the front door. It came open. “Not locked,” Ed said, then walked inside.

“Right behind you,” Stone said, following. They were first in a short hallway, then in what would, no doubt, be the living room. The smell of drying plaster was thick.

“Let’s take the ten-cent tour,” Rawls said. They went into the kitchen, the dining room, and into what would be a library or study, all with drying plaster. The library had rows of bookcases lined up and ready to be installed.

There was a broad central staircase, and Rawls led the way upstairs. “Hello? Anybody home?”

“I won’t fire until you do,” Stone said.

Rawls turned a corner and went through an open door. “And we’re in the master suite,” he said. It was only partly furnished, but neat.

“Interesting that there’s only one bed,” Stone said.

“Two,” Ed replied, “twins pushed together, inside a king bedstead. And electric beds, like at a hospital.”

French doors led out to a long, narrow porch on the side facing the road, wrapping around to the front of the house, then again, to the library.