Distant Thunder

47

They finished up dinner with Key lime pie and coffee. They had not discussed the contents of Vanessa’s bag or her intentions.

“Okay,” Stone said. “What do you deduce from the evidence at hand, Viv?”

“You mean, Vanessa’s Girl Scouts spy kit?”

“For want of a better term.”

“I think it originated with one of three sources,” she said. She held up a finger. “One: Valery Majorov. Two: Lance Cabot. Three: whatever they call the Russian spy agency these days.”

“I like KGB,” Stone said. “It has a nice ring to it, and I can’t remember what part of the alphabet they’re using to describe it these days.”

“Your choice?” Viv asked. “Or something else entirely?”

“Come back to me,” Stone said.

“Dino?”

“Valery Majorov.”

“Me, too. Stone?”

“I think Vanessa put it together from whatever her ex-husband left behind in his safe.”

“You think he had a million two in his safe?” Dino asked.

“I know he had more than that in an offshore account with a Cayman bank, and Vanessa had the necessary codes to draw on it.”

“And the bomb?” Viv asked.

“You’ve got me there. Maybe Jack intended to blow up something or somebody.”

“Any candidates for blowing up?” Dino asked.

“Just one: Valery Majorov.”

“That seems a cumbersome way to off a Russian,” Viv said. “I mean, there was a knife and a gun in the package, too. Either would have worked just as well and would have left a lot less debris and collateral damage to innocent passersby.”

“Good point,” Stone said.

“A good question to ask,” Dino said, “is: Why would Vanessa bring a bomb with her to Stone’s house in Key West?”

“Maybe it was the last thing left in the safe, and she just tossed it into her bag as an afterthought,” Viv suggested.

“Maybe she was concerned about it accidentally going off in her apartment,” Dino said.

“So she transferred the risk to my house?” Stone asked. “I consider that a hostile act.”

“Don’t be so touchy,” Dino said. “We’re just brainstorming here.”

“Using whose brain?” Stone asked. “Seems to me, we’re missing one.”

“Now that’s hostile,” Dino said.

“Easy, fellas,” Viv said, holding out a calming hand. “We’re not getting anywhere.”

“Seems to me,” Stone said, “that we have arrived at our destination — the only one that makes any sense.”

“You have a point,” Viv said. “Why don’t we wait until you’ve tried out this theory on Lance, who, as far as I’m concerned, is still a candidate for the bad guy.”

A good suggestion. “I’ll start trying him as we approach Fort Jefferson.”

Stone took out his cell phone, selected the Sonos app, and Oscar Peterson could be heard playing the piano on tiny speakers all around them.

“That’s what we need,” Viv said. “Soothing music.”

Stone woke at dawn, as the engines were starting, then went directly back to sleep. He woke again at mid-morning and looked out a porthole. They were motoring into the harbor at Fort Jefferson, and there was a Coast Guard cutter at anchor there. He got dressed, went on deck, and found Dino and Viv at the rail, looking at the cutter.

“Look who’s on deck,” Viv said without pointing.

Stone looked and sighted Lance Cabot getting into a rubber dinghy and coming toward where they were mooring.

“Why are you surprised?” Dino asked. “Lance does this sort of thing two or three times a week.”

Lance climbed the boarding stairs and set a foot on Breeze’s deck. “Is breakfast ready?” he asked.

As it happened, breakfast was, indeed, ready, and they all sat down.

“Before you ask,” Lance said. “I arrived in Key West and slept at Stone’s house, blissfully without company. I then took the seaplane from Key West International Airport and arrived here an hour ago and was met by the cutter, just in case of unforeseeable problems of any sort.”

“Okay,” Stone said, “are you ready to be grilled?”

“I perceive that this must be about Vanessa’s ready kit,” Lance said. “I had her apartment visited yesterday, and it was missing, so...”