Turbulence (Stone Barrington #46)(12)

Stone and Dino went back into the kitchen, got some breakfast and took it into the dining room, where Holly and Viv were already eating.



* * *



—

AT AROUND NINE AM the wind began to drop, and by noon it was down to a dull roar.

“Where’s the ox?” Holly asked.

“When last seen, drinking Dino’s scotch,” Stone replied.

As if on cue, Joe Box came in from the kitchen with a plate of food and sat down heavily at the table. “Good morning,” he said. “Thanks for taking me in.”

“How did you happen to be out in that storm?” Stone asked.

“I was at home, hunkered down, when it started. Then the wind kept rising, and the roof blew off my house. I took shelter in my car, and when the water started to rise, I drove over to Truman, but as I got there, the engine died and wouldn’t start again. After a while I dozed, and when I woke up, my car was afloat, and water was coming over the door seals. I got out and made my way up Truman. Yours were the only lights I saw—I guess the power is down—so I knocked on your door. That’s all I remember until I woke up this morning. I guess you have a generator, right?”

“Good guess,” Stone said.

“Thanks again for taking me in. I’ll be going when the wind drops enough.”

“Just relax until it’s all over. By the way, where are you going to go? Your house doesn’t have a roof, and you don’t have a car.”

“Good question,” Box said. “Have you got a cell phone? I’ll call the governor, and he’ll send a chopper for me.”

“The cell service went with the power,” Stone said. “There’s no landline, either. They’re saying on the TV that all services are out in the Keys. The eye came ashore on Cudjoe Key, and there are apparently no undamaged buildings there or on Big Pine.”

“Well, shit,” Box muttered. “When this thing passes, I’ll hoof it up to Boca Chica, to the Naval Air Station; they’ll have a satphone or some sort of communication, and I can get in touch with the governor.”

“It’s going to be a while before the governor can see to your needs, Senator. The storm is headed up the middle of the state now, and it’s going to rake it from the Gulf to the Atlantic. Every airport and heliport is closed, and every aircraft that could find fuel and fly has left the state.”

“Well, the Navy will get me out, then, as soon as they can fly again. Madame Secretary, I’m sure they’d do you the honor of getting you out, too.”

“Thank you, no,” Holly replied. “I’ll stick it out with my friends. Don’t let us keep you here a minute longer than necessary, though.”

Stone reminded himself to keep sharp objects away from Holly as long as Joe Box was in the house.





10



BY MONDAY EVENING Hurricane Irma had mostly made her exit from Key West and was now headed for the southwest Florida mainland and was then predicted to travel up the center of the state, sparing no one.

It was Tuesday morning before, venturing from the house, Stone and Holly could survey the damage. Miraculously, the house had not taken any water to the interior, except during the entrance of Senator Joe Box, and that had been cleaned up. The courtyards of the property were strewn with bits of the house’s shrubbery and plantings, plus intruding plant life from the neighbors. A couple of palm trees were down but had not crashed into the structure. The generator was still running, with what Stone considered to be another two or three days’ worth of propane still left. Joe Box had, apparently, left the house early on that morning, because no one could find him.

Stone considered a drive around town to survey the damage, but he didn’t wish to squander the last of his gasoline. Besides, his own street was choked with the remains of trees, so he couldn’t get the car out of his driveway.

“Want to take a ride?” he asked Holly.

“Didn’t you just give me your reasons for not doing so?”

“There are two bicycles hanging on the garage wall,” he said, “little used. How about some exercise? There are no hills.”

“You’re on,” she said.

He got down the two cycles, strapped an empty five-gallon gas can to the rear luggage platform with shock cords, and they set out.

“Where are we going?” Holly asked.

“How about the airport? I’d like to see if I still own an airplane.”

“Good idea.”

Stone had another idea, but he didn’t mention it yet. They drove down White Street, toward the pier, dodging trees and limbs, many of which had knocked down or damaged power lines.

“Stay away from the power lines,” Stone said. “They may not be as dead as they look.” They reached the airport, after nearly a half hour’s ride. Stone used his new security badge to try and open the gate. That didn’t work because there was no power, so they climbed over. The big hangar, owned by the FBO, had suffered considerable damage, and so had some of the dozen airplanes parked inside, but next door Stone’s hangar seemed intact. He opened the door and walked around the airplane slowly but could find no damage to either structure or aircraft.

A lineman drove up on a towing cart, which, apparently, had been fully charged before the power cut. “Morning,” he said.