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“It’s a whole lot like the other killing, isn’t it?” Young asked.

“Sure is,” Stone replied.

“What did Dick Stone and Don Brown have in common?”

Stone spoke up. “They both lived on the same island, and they both worked for the same government agency. Brown retired six years ago.”

Stone and Dino left the sergeant and the crime-scene people to their work and went back to the front porch.

“Ed, when did you last talk to Don?”

“Last night, after supper, about nine.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Don called me, wanted to have lunch with the three of us tomorrow, that is, today. Said he had something to tell us.”

“Any hints about what he wanted to tell you?”

“No. Don liked to think things over before he spoke.”

“You think it had anything to do with Dick’s murder?”

“My guess is yes. He asked me to call Harley and Mack, and I did.”

The other two men nodded.

“He wouldn’t have made a lunch date if he’d intended to shoot himself,” Rawls said.

“That makes sense. Be sure and tell the sergeant about the call.” Rawls nodded. “This sort of stuff isn’t supposed to happen,” he said. “You do your work for thirty-five or forty years and you retire, and you’re out of it. Nobody comes looking for you five or six years later.”

“Don found out something,” Harley said. “God knows what.”

“Any of you know how Don spent his day yesterday?”

Jimmy Hotchkiss spoke up. “I know he was here at lunchtime, because I send the papers out to him every day.” He looked around him. “And don’t you other fellers get any ideas; I’m not running a paper-delivery service, except for a couple of people, like Don, who couldn’t get in the store easy.”

“So we need to know what he was doing between lunchtime and bedtime.”

Sergeant Young had appeared in the front doorway. “Hilda says he got in his car and went out about one o’clock. He had this way of getting his scooter in and out of the trunk. We’ll ask around, see if anybody saw him around the island.”

“You need us anymore?” Stone asked.

The sergeant shook his head. “I’ll call you if I think of anything.”

Stone and Dino got into the MG and headed down the drive.

“Dino,” Stone said, “I think it would be good if you moved into the house, into Esme’s bedroom. Arrington can bunk with me, and there’s another bedroom for Peter.”

“Why move? To cover your ass?”

“That and because there’s no alarm system in the guest house.”

“Oh.”

Chapter 26

TWO DAYS LATER, Stone stood on the tarmac and watched the Centurion Studios’ Gulfstream IV land at Rockland Airport. Peter was the first down the airplane’s stairs, at a run. He was six now and taller than when Stone had last seen him the year before. His mother followed, carrying her overnight case, and the two pilots then dealt with the luggage.

There were hugs, then Stone loaded their luggage into his airplane. “Peter, I think we’ll let you be copilot today, and your mother can be the passenger.”

The boy was delighted. Soon Stone had them buckled in and was running through his checklist, giving Peter a running commentary.

“I hope this isn’t going to be like the last ride with you,” the boy said.

Stone laughed. On their last ride Stone had been at the controls of a helicopter, a machine he hadn’t known how to fly, had made a very rough landing, and they were both lucky to be alive. “I think you’ll find this a smoother trip; shorter, too.”

They lifted off and turned out over Penobscot Bay. “There’s our island,” Stone said, pointing. “Can you see it, Arrington?”

Arlington could hear and speak from the rear through her headset. “Yes, it’s beautiful.”

“There’s our landing strip,” Stone said to Peter.

“It looks a lot shorter than the one we just landed on,” Peter said.

“It is, but my airplane is a lot smaller than the Centurion jet, so it can use shorter strips.” Stone lined up for the runway, announced his intentions over the radio and looked for traffic. A moment later they were on the runway and braking. Dino sat in the station wagon, waiting for them.

They stopped at the Dark Harbor Shop for the papers and an ice cream cone for Peter, then continued to the house.

“It’s lovely, Stone,” Arrington said. “How did you find it?”

“I’ll tell you the story later,” Stone said. He took them into the house and got them settled. Peter ran out to the dock to have a look at the boats, and Arrington relaxed in the study.

“So, tell me why you bought a house in Maine,” she said.

Stone sat down beside her. “It belonged to my first cousin, Dick Stone, who died recently and left me the house. Well, the use of the house for my lifetime and that of my family.”

“How old a man was Dick?”

“My age.”

“Heart attack?”

“Not exactly.”

“Stone, I’m beginning to get the feeling that I’m not going to like the rest of this story.”

“Dick and his wife and daughter were murdered a couple of weeks ago.”

“Not in this house, I hope.”

“Dick was at his desk, over there; his wife and daughter were in Dino’s room.”

“Who murdered them, and why?”

“Dick was CIA; the murders seem to be related to his work.”

Seem to be related to his work?”

“There’s evidence to suggest that and no evidence to suggest otherwise.”

“Am I going to find his wife’s clothes in my closet?”

“All their personal effects have been removed. It’s my house now.”

“Why is Dino sleeping upstairs instead of in the guest house?” Arrington didn’t miss much.

“There’s no security system in the guest house.”

“And why do we need a security system on this tiny island?”

“It’s only a precaution. Another man, this one a retired CIA officer, was killed in a fashion similar to the way Dick was killed a couple of days ago.”

“Has anyone tried to kill you yet?”

“No, and there isn’t the slightest reason to suppose that anyone might.”

“Stone, every time I see you somebody is trying to kill you or trying to kill me.”

“Those incidents were not my fault.”

“No, it’s never your fault; it just seems to happen to you.”

“I have that history, but I believe we’re all quite safe here.”

“How good is the security system?”

“It was designed and installed by the CIA. By the way, don’t go downstairs at night before I disable the system. There are motion detectors downstairs.”

“I’m relieved to hear it.”

Peter came running back into the house.

“Peter, don’t run indoors,” his mother said.

“I’m sorry. The boats are neat, Stone. Can we go out in one of them?”

“Sure, we can. Which one would you like to go out in?”

“The sailboat.”

“All right, we’ll go out after lunch.” Stone glanced at Arrington. “I think there’s a life jacket just your size on board, Peter.”

Arrington nodded approvingly.

AFTER LUNCH IT TOOK an hour for Stone to get familiar enough with the yacht to be comfortable, and to get the engine started and check the chart for deep water and hazards to navigation, before they were skimming smoothly over small waves in a good breeze, with Peter steering the boat from Stone’s lap. Dino stretched out in the cockpit and went to sleep, a beer still clutched in his hand, while Arrington sat quietly next to Stone and Peter, taking in the scenery.

Stone felt eighteen again, except that his son was along for the ride. He and Arrington had had an affair years before, when she had chosen to marry Vance Calder, the movie star, not knowing that she was already carrying Stone’s child. It had taken a long time for her to admit to Stone, if not to herself, that Peter was his son.