Worst Fears Realized

21

THEY CROSSED INTO CONNECTICUT ON I-84, and Stone soon turned off the interstate at Southbury and headed north. The car behaved like a living thing, clinging to curves and accelerating in the straights.

“When do I get to know where we’re going?” Sarah asked.

“When we get there, not before,” Stone replied. “Just enjoy the countryside; it restores your corpuscles, remember?”

“I can feel them pumping even now.”

In Woodbury, Stone turned left on Highway 47, and a few minutes later they entered Washington Township.

“Oh, Washington!” Sarah enthused. “I spent a weekend here a few years ago; what a lovely place!”

“I’m glad you think so,” Stone said, making a right turn at a sign that read, MAYFLOWER INN. They drove around a pond and up a steep hill, pulling up outside a handsome, shingled building.

“This is lovely,” Sarah said. “How did you find it?”

“It wasn’t hard,” Stone said. “It was voted the best country inn in America last year in some magazine. I clipped the article.”

“Well clipped,” she replied.

Someone took their bags upstairs and let them into a handsomely decorated suite overlooking the rear gardens.

“Have you reserved a dinner table, sir?” the young bellman asked.

“No. Could you do that for me, at eight o’clock?”

“Certainly. You’ll need a jacket, but not necessarily a tie.”

“Thank you.” Stone tipped him generously, and he let himself out of the room. “Well,” Stone said, “we’ve got two hours until dinner; how shall we amuse ourselves?”

Sarah walked into his arms. “I’ll need an hour to bathe and dress. That leaves a whole hour of free, unsupervised time.”

Stone kissed her. “Unsupervised?”

“Well, not entirely,” she said, working on his buttons. “I’ll do the supervising.”

At seven-thirty they walked downstairs, now showered, changed, and entirely relaxed, and entered the handsome bar, taking a table near a window.

“I could live here,” Sarah said. “All I’d need would be this table and the bed upstairs.”

“I’ve heard worse ideas,” Stone agreed.

A young woman appeared. “Would you like a drink, Mr. Barrington?”

Stone nodded at Sarah.

“A vodka gimlet, straight up, shaken very cold, slightly sweet,” she said.

“Two,” Stone replied.

Shortly they were sipping the clear, green-tinted liquid. The waitress returned. “Mr. Barrington, there’s a phone call for you at the front desk.”

“Excuse me,” Stone said to Sarah, taking his drink with him. He went into the front hall and was shown to a phone booth. “Hello?”

“It’s Dino; I hear you’re driving something alarming.”

“Entirely so; I’ll show you the first of the week.”

“Okay; how’d it go with Mitteldorfer?”

“It didn’t.”

“Warkowski wouldn’t let you see him?”

“He wasn’t there to see.”

“I don’t get it.”

“He’s out.”

“Paroled?”

“Unconditionally released.”

There was a long silence before Dino spoke again. “Well, the little shit. He must have spent the last twelve years bending over for Warkowski.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. I went by the stationery store where he bought supplies and found out that Mitteldorfer was keeping an office there.”

“An office? What the hell for?”

“That was pretty much my reaction. The lady in charge said he had a computer in there and that he was trading stocks.”

“Holy shit, and I bet I know who for.”

“Warkowski.”

“Damn right, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t for the warden, too.”

“The lady said he gave her and the store’s owner a few hot tips.”

“You ever hear of anything like this?”

“Never.”

“So where’s Mitteldorfer now?”

“Nobody knows, or, at least, nobody’s saying. The lady in the store said he said he was going west.”

“Jesus, I hope so,” Dino said. “I never want to see the little bastard again.”

“Somebody came up with a black van and took his computer and his files away.”

“So he’s not without friends.”

“Not while Warkowski’s alive. I wouldn’t be surprised if the captain helped him move. What have you got to report?”

“I’ve had two detectives going through every case we worked as partners, and I’m damned if there’s anything that looks good. Just about everybody we sent up for anything serious is still inside.”

“You had any new experiences that would indicate that our guy is still out there?”

“Nah. I think he’s licking the wounds that Mary Ann gave him. He’d be pretty noticeable with a big bandage on his ear.”

“Nobody followed us out of town that I could see.”

“That’s what Krakauer said.”

“And once I was on the West Side Highway, nobody could have kept up.”

“What are you driving?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

“How’s the inn?”

“Perfect, except that I’m talking to you when I should be talking to Sarah.”

“Bye-bye.”

“Bye.” Stone hung up and returned to the bar.

“That was Dino, wasn’t it?” she asked.

“It was.”

“Dino knows before I do where I’m spending the weekend?”

“I wasn’t surprising Dino.”

“Good point.”

“You hungry?”

“You bet.”

“Miss, could I have a menu and a wine list, please?”

They polished off a dinner of smoked salmon and roast pheasant and a bottle of very good cabernet, then, sated, went back upstairs.

Later, after they had made love again, Stone said, “I like having you around. I’d like to have you around all the time.”

“I hope to God that’s not a proposal,” she said, lifting her head from his shoulder.

“Not yet.”

“Not for a long while,” she said.

“As you wish, but I would like to point out that you are, technically, at least, homeless.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Mine, entirely mine. And I want to make up for it by offering you a bed… home, rather.”

“And a very nice home it is,” Sarah said. “Your house was a shambles when I left for Italy.”

“Do you think you could feel at home in it?”

“I think I could feel at home with you.”

“Then there’s nothing more to say.”

“Yes, there is.”

“What?”

“I told you before, I’m a country girl; I need a place outside the city.”

“Where would you like to have a place?”

“Not the Hamptons; I’ve had too much of that crowd.”

“Where, then?”

“Maybe here.”

“I don’t think I could swing the inn, even with a mortgage.”

“A house, silly, and not a big house; a cottage, perhaps.”

“Sounds good,” he said. “Why don’t we find a real-estate agent tomorrow morning?”

“Do you mean it, Stone?”

“Do you think I’m saying this just because you got me into bed?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re a rotten judge of character.”

“We’ll see in the morning,” she said, snuggling her naked body against his.

Stone fell asleep wondering where Herbert Mitteldorfer was.