Hit List (Stone Barrington #53)(73)
“Okay, negotiate.”
“Consider it done, and don’t ask any questions. I won’t tell you what the premium is.”
“Oh, all right, go!”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you: your bike’s license plate arrived this morning.”
“You mean I went riding all over town without a plate?”
“You went riding all over town?”
“Sort of.”
“I’ll put the plate on. Pretend it’s always been there.” She hung up.
No sooner had she gone than Stone’s cell rang. “Yeah?”
“It’s Dino.” He didn’t sound happy.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sig did another name on the list late last night.”
“Who?”
“What does it matter? You don’t know any of them. It would have been after we saw him.”
“Well, that pretty much ruins my day.”
“Don’t let it. It’s not your fault.”
“You keep saying that. Why don’t I believe you?”
“You just enjoy feeling guilty,” Dino said.
“I’m hanging up now,” Stone said.
“Listen to me. Go armed.”
“Got it.” Stone hung up. Upon further consideration he retrieved his little Terry Tussey .45 auto and its light shoulder holster and hung it next to his jacket.
* * *
—
At a little after seven, Stone’s phone rang: in-house call.
“Yes?”
“It’s Fred, sir. If you’re going out for dinner this evening I’d let me drive you; rain coming.”
“All right, I’ll meet you in the garage at seven-fifteen.” He hung up, got out his iPhone and went to Weather Bug. Radar showed heavy rain west of the city.
* * *
—
It was drizzling when Stone arrived at the restaurant, and as he left the car, Fred handed him an umbrella. “You’ll need this when you return to the car. There’s no awning.”
Stone went inside, checked the umbrella, and joined the Bacchettis in their usual booth. “You’re looking wonderful,” Stone said to Viv. “Travel somehow improves you.”
“You’re a very convincing liar,” she said, returning his kiss. “You must get a lot of practice.”
“Calumny!” Stone retorted. “Learn to accept a compliment!”
“Yes, sir,” she said, and drinks arrived on the table.
“Rain tonight,” Dino said.
“So I hear. It was only sprinkling when I arrived, but Fred insisted on driving me and gave me an umbrella, too.”
“Fred is a smart guy. Listen to him.”
“Is the rain going to affect something you’re running tonight?” Stone asked.
“Probably. I’ve got every motorcycle we own on the streets looking for that black BMW you identified.”
“Did I mention that every BMW motorcycle I’ve ever seen was black?”
“Now you tell me,” Dino said, picking up his phone and passing that information to his men.
58
It was raining lightly, but steadily, as Stone got into the Bentley, and he was grateful for the umbrealla Fred had given him.
“Home, sir?”
“Yes, Fred. You were right about the rain.”
“The National Weather Service is rarely wrong,” Fred replied. Ten minutes later, they drove into the garage.
Stone went upstairs, undressed, and got into a nightshirt, then he propped himself up in his electric bed and tried to find a station with no news of Holly, which was making him more and more anxious as Election Day approached. He settled for an old movie he loved, but he didn’t get far into it before he dozed off.
* * *
—
He was awakened by his cell phone, charging beside him; the clock read 3:05 AM. “Hello,” he said hoarsely.
“You’re in bed already?” Dino asked.
“Most people are at three in the morning.”
“Hear that?”
“What?”
“Just listen.”
Stone took the phone away from his ear and listened. Rain was hammering his roof.
“Okay, I hear it. Anything else?”
“We’ve got a sighting of our boy and his BMW,” Dino said.
“Where?”
“Harlem, 125th Street, driving aimlessly, but so far, he has eluded my people.”
“That’s just great,” Stone said. “Call me back when he’s in custody.”
“I thought you might like to cruise uptown and join the hunt. There’s not much traffic in this weather, except for my guys on bikes and our boy Sig.”
“So, you noticed the weather?”
“What’s the matter? Do Nortons dissolve in the rain?”
Stone swung his feet out of bed. “Oh, all right.”
“Have you still got a handheld police radio?”
“Somewhere.”
Dino gave him a channel number. “That’s reserved for our motorcycles tonight. Keep in touch.”