A Safe House

26

Stone was reading a book before the fireplace in the early afternoon when the doorbell rang, baffling him. Who could be ringing the doorbell? Nobody knew they were there. He got up, took the handgun from his belt, racked the slide, putting a round up the spout, cocked it, put the safety on, then returned it to his gun belt.

He walked to the front door, peered through the peephole, and found a man, dressed in a suit, his back to the door. Stone drew his handgun and opened the door, concealing his weapon behind it. “Yes?” he said.

The man looked over his shoulder. “Are you Barrington?”

“Who’s asking?”

“Bob Burnham.”

“State your business.”

“I have an appointment.”

“Not with me, you don’t.”

“With Jenna Jacoby.”

“Stay there,” Stone said, and closed the door. He picked up the house phone and paged Jenna.

“Yes?”

“There’s a man here, sounds like a Texan, named Bob Burnham, says he has an appointment with you.”

“Oh, yes. He’s my congressman. Please let him in.”

“A Texas congressman is making house calls in Maine?”

“I asked him to come.”

Stone opened the front door. “I’m going to have to frisk you, Congressman,” he said.

“I’m unarmed.” He spread his legs and his arms, and Stone felt him up and down. “All right, come in.” He pointed the man at the sofa before the fireplace. “Take a seat over there, and don’t move around.”

The man sat. “Is it too early for a drink?” he asked.

“Yes. We don’t do business until after five.”

Jenna came down the stairs and Burnham rose to meet her. She shook his hand, but no kiss, then she sat down in the chair opposite Stone. “What can I do for you?”

“It may sound odd, but I’m looking for a campaign contribution.”

“In Maine?” she asked.

“Let me explain.”

“Please do,” she said.

“Your husband...”

“Are you referring to my ex-husband?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was final.”

“Go on.”

“I’m your congressman, and I’m primarying Senator Slade.” He got no reaction. “I’m running against him for his Senate seat in the Republican primary.”

“And do you have any sort of chance?”

“I don’t know if you’ve been out of touch, but there was an incident widely reported in the media, of his having lunch in the House of Lords dining room, in London, while wearing his hat.”

“That came to my attention,” she said.

“Well, we’ve been tracking the polls very carefully, and to our surprise, that occasion caused a seven-point downturn in his job-approval rating among likely voters in the primary.”

“I’m delighted to hear it,” Jenna said.

“I’m here to encourage that trend,” Burnham said. “I’m announcing tomorrow that I’m running against him for the seat.”

Everybody was silent for a moment.

“How’s your job-approval rating?” Stone asked.

“Up seven points.”

“I can see how you might be encouraged,” Jenna said. “How can I help?”

“By giving a large contribution to my campaign and letting me announce it tomorrow.”

Jenna burst out laughing. “Well, good luck to you! How much do you want?”

“A thousand dollars,” he said. “Preferably in a check with your name printed on it.”

“I can do that,” Jenna said. She got up, found her purse, and began rummaging in it. “I even have a nice Mont Blanc fountain pen with which to write it.” She opened her checkbook.

“Just make it out to ‘Burnham for Senate,’ ” he said.

She wrote the check, waved it around, then blew on it and handed it over.

“Perfect,” he said, gazing at it.

“Anything else?”

“Perhaps a statement?”

“What sort of statement?”

“Unkind. Inflammatory, if you like. I’ll read it after I’ve shown your check at my announcement.”

Jenna found a pad, thought a little, then wrote a few words. “How’s this? ‘I heartily endorse the election of Bob Burnham to the United States Senate, a seat currently held by my former husband, Wallace Slade, whose grip is slipping in more ways than one.’ ”

“Perfection,” Burnham said.

She handed him the sheet, and he politely made his goodbyes and started for the door.

“Excuse me, Congressman,” Stone said. “May I ask how you found us here?”

“I got off the ferry and made the first right,” Burnham replied.

“No, I mean, how did you know Ms. Jacoby was here? And how did you know where to look for her?”

“Oh. Her sister, Jamie, told me. I met her in Camden yesterday.”

“Thank you,” Stone said. “If you hurry, you can just make the return ferry.”

Burnham hurried.

Stone closed and locked the door behind him.

“Well,” Jenna said. “That was the most fun I’ve ever had for a thousand dollars.”

“Jenna,” Stone said. “What is your sister doing in Camden?”

“Shopping, I should think. She’ll get a later ferry.”

“You invited her here?”

“Well, yes. There’s plenty of room, isn’t there? She can share my room.”

“Had you planned to mention this to me?”

“I guess it slipped my mind.”

“The last person your sister sent to my door tried to shoot both you and me. Do you recall that?”

“That was an accident. I didn’t know that a cell phone could be traced.”

“Was it an accident that she sent a stranger to my door?”

“She knew who he was.”

“Oh? Had they ever met? Or could he have been one of Wallace’s thugs, misrepresenting himself to her?”

“Jamie has very good judgment about people,” Jenna said. “Now, if my sister is not welcome here, I’ll hitch a ride with her to the ferry.”

“And then what? Or where?”

“Wherever I fucking well like,” Jenna said.

Stone got out his phone and pressed a button. “Jenna is leaving my house with her sister in an hour or two. She’ll be on the four o’clock ferry if you want to put security on her.” He hung up without waiting for a reply.

“Perhaps you had better go and pack,” Stone said. “Just ask Seth to put your luggage into your sister’s car.”

He sat back, opened his book, and began to read again, while Jenna stomped up the stairs.