Wild Card

18

Stone awoke to the calls of gulls in the harbor. He got out of bed without waking Jamie, showered, shaved, and went up to the saloon. Ed Rawls was there alone, dining on a buffet breakfast. Stone joined him and snagged a passing crew member. “You may as well wake everybody and announce breakfast before it gets cold.”

“We’ll keep it freshly supplied,” she said, “if you want to let them sleep.”

“It’s already nine o’clock,” Stone said. “Roust them out.” He helped himself to scrambled eggs, sausages, and a Wolferman’s English muffin, then joined Rawls.

“What are your plans for the day?” Ed asked.

“I thought I might catch up on my reading,” Stone said, “or we could take the tender out and do some touring.”

“Don’t do that until I’ve had a look around the village,” Rawls said.

“Okay, we’ll save it for after lunch. Is that enough time for you?”

“Should be.”

“Maybe I’ll come with you,” Stone said. “If you can wait until I’ve finished breakfast.”

“I don’t want to be seen with you,” Rawls said.

“What? Am I such bad company?”

“If they’re here, they’re looking for you — and they probably have a photograph. They don’t know me.”

“As always, Ed, you have a point.”

Rawls stood up and put on a sweatshirt, his sunglasses, and a floppy hat. “There,” he said, “I’m disguised.”

“See you for lunch at one,” Stone said, and Rawls trotted down the gangplank and walked up the pontoon toward the village.

Sleepy people began appearing in the saloon — Sherry and Bob, a few minutes later, Jamie. By the time they had each finished their first cup of coffee, they were fully awake and eating with both hands.

When they had finished, Jamie said, “I think I’ll walk into town and do some window-shopping. Will you join me, Stone?”

“I’d better stay here with Bob and Sherry,” Stone replied. “Ed has pointed out to me that if anybody’s looking for us, they might have a photo of me.”

“But not me?”

“Not yet.” He gave her a credit card. “Get yourself some things. If anybody gives you any grief about the card, have Amex call me.”

“How nice of you,” Jamie said, “but I have my own credit cards.” She handed his back.

“Please yourself,” Stone said. “Call, if you have any problems at all. Ed is around, and I can be there in five minutes.”

Jamie kissed him and went ashore.

Ed Rawls had attended The Farm, as the Agency’s training school was known, more than forty years ago, but he still retained the tradecraft he had learned there. On every block of Main Street, he looked at every face and figure. Before he went into a shop, he stood at the window and checked out the customers — and the reflection in the window of those behind him. He was doing just that at an appealing art gallery when, reflected in the store window, he saw a large SUV stop on the street behind him and two familiar figures get out. He continued to watch them as they began moving downhill, toward the harbor.

Stone was reading when his phone rang. “Hello?”

“It’s Ed. The people I saw in Dark Harbor yesterday are in town, and the bad news is, they were in a car with two other people, so there are at least four to worry about. I’d get your guests below before they turn up there.”

“I’ll do that. Ed, Jamie is in the village. I’ll call her and tell her not to come back to the yacht until we’re clear.”

“Good, I’ll mosey on down there and keep an eye out.”

He hung up.

Stone rang up Jamie.

“Yes?”

“Where are you?”

“In the changing room of the cutest little shop,” she said.

“That’s a good place to be. Stay in the shop until I call you back.” He hung up before she could ask questions, then herded Bob and Sherry below.

Captain Todd came into the saloon. “Where’s everybody?” he asked.

“Jamie and Ed are in town. The others are below, where I’m going, too.”

“Anything wrong?”

“There are some wrong people in town, and they may turn up here.”

“What do they look like?”

“A man and a woman, both hefty in build. The man may have a bandage on his forehead. If they try to come aboard, stop them. If they ask questions, lie to them.”

“Gotcha,” Todd replied. Stone took his book and went below. He stood at one of the ports in his cabin and peered past the curtains at the dock. Sure enough, here came Hurd and Heather.

Captain Todd winched up the gangplank and then stood outside the deckhouse, sipping his second cup of coffee of the day and watching the dock. He spotted the two people as they came down the dock. They stopped, looking admiringly at the yacht.

“Good morning,” the man said.

“Good morning,” Todd replied.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Is the owner aboard?”

“No, he and his party are not due until tomorrow afternoon.”

“If it’s not too much of an imposition, could we have your permission to come aboard and have a look around? I’m a fan of boats of this period.”

“I’m sorry, but the crew is in the middle of preparing the yacht for guests, and the owners have a policy of not allowing visitors aboard, unless they are present to receive them.”

“Well, thanks anyway,” the man said, then he made a show of walking the length of the yacht, taking in everything.

Stone saw him from below and stepped back from the curtains. After a couple of minutes of looking, Hurd and Heather turned and walked slowly up the dock toward the village, stopping to look at other yachts along the way. Finally, they were out of sight.

Stone called Jamie and Rawls and told them to return slowly to the yacht, then he went to get a report from Todd.

“I told them the owners weren’t due until tomorrow afternoon,” Todd said.

“Perfect,” Stone said. He got his cell phone out and called Faith, his chief pilot, who was back in New York.

“Having fun?” she asked.

“Not enough fun,” Stone replied. “I’d like you to fly the airplane to Nantucket, land after dark, refuel, find a room for the night, and be ready for wheels up at six AM tomorrow.”

“Certainly. Destination?”

“Key West. I’ll put you and your copilot up while we’re there.”

“Wonderful. I can use some sun.”

“And I want our tail number off the FlightAware program. I don’t want anyone tracking us.”

Stone looked around. Jamie and Rawls were approaching the yacht from different directions. He went to lower the gangplank.