A Safe House

30

The agent leaned forward and took a deep breath.

“Hold it right there,” Stone said. “My client does not wish to speak to you further, but I do.”

“All right, go ahead.”

“First, I’m going to have to ask you both for your promise that you will not tell anyone except your AIC at the Bureau what I’m going to say.”

They exchanged a puzzled look.

“It’s necessary for the health and safety of my client.”

“Oh, all right,” one said, and the other nodded.

“I’m aware that it is a felony to lie to a federal agent, and that’s why I asked my client to leave: she would have been required to lie to you.”

“Could you try to make a little more sense?” one agent asked.

“My client is Jenna Jacoby.”

“The dead sister?”

“No, the other sister, Jamie, was the one killed in the car explosion. My client is Jenna, who you just met.”

“I think I’m beginning to get this,” the agent said.

“Great,” his partner replied, “you can explain it to me.”

“Jenna was being hunted like an animal,” Stone said. “With the death of her sister, we had an opportunity to keep her alive without a platoon of security guards. If Wallace Slade and his minion, Harley Quince, believe Jenna is dead, then they’ll stop trying to kill her.”

“Ahhh,” both agents said. “So, all we have to do to help is lie to our AIC?”

“Certainly not, just swear him to secrecy.”

“We can’t swear that he’ll buy that.”

“Then if he doesn’t buy it and Jenna is killed because of that, ask him how he’d like a monumental civil suit against the Bureau for causing her death.”

“I don’t think he’d like that very much.”

“Good, then we’re all on the same page,” Stone said.

Stone showed them out and went back to his desk and buzzed Joan. “Ask Jenna to come in again, please.”

She came in and sat down.

“I’m sorry, I had to ask you to leave so that you wouldn’t tell them the lie I asked you to tell them.”

“Oh, really?”

“It’s against the law to lie to an FBI agent. Instead, I swore them to secrecy and asked them to swear their boss to secrecy, too.”

“And you think that’ll work?”

“Maybe. At least it will give us some time to figure out what to do with you next. Do you just want to hole up here? That’s fine with me, but maybe you’ve thought of someplace you’d rather be.”

“It’s getting chilly out. I’d rather be someplace warmer for the winter.”

“How about Key West?” Stone asked. “I have a house there, and there are firearms in the safe.”

“Sold,” she said.

Joan came into his office. “Jenna’s hairdresser and makeup artist is here.”

“Go get bobbed,” Stone said, and she did.

Stone had some lunch and did some work. Jenna returned a couple of hours later.

“Wow!” Stone said.

“You like? We used the passport photo. Jamie wore glasses, too. I can take out my contacts.”

“I don’t think you’ll need to,” Stone said.

“The change to summer clothes will help, too. I’ll do some shopping when I get there.”

“When do you want to go?”

“I’ll need to stock up on the sexual experience for a couple of days,” she said.

“I think we can arrange that.”

“Then book me a ticket.”

Stone buzzed Joan and gave her instructions.

Jenna went upstairs for a nap, and Joan buzzed again. “There’s a Mr. Quince to see you,” she said. “He doesn’t have an appointment.”

“See that Jenna doesn’t come down while he’s here, and send him in.”

Quince walked into the office, and Joan snuck up behind him and snatched his hat off. “I’ll keep this for you,” she said, and slammed the door before he could object.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Quince?” Stone asked. He didn’t sit down and didn’t offer him a seat. “I don’t have much time.”

“Maybe you’d have more time for my boss,” Quince said.

“And who’s that?”

“Senator Wallace Slade.”

“No, not for him, either. What do you want?”

“The senator wants to hire you.”

“For what?”

“For a lawyer.”

“I’m not available to Mr. Slade.”

“You mean Senator Slade.”

“ ‘Mister’ is a perfectly respectful form of address, even for a senator.”

“Make yourself available.”

“What sort of legal work does Slade want done?”

“He’s being stalked by a woman.”

“Tell him to call the police. We have a very good anti-stalking law in this state.”

“He’d rather keep it private.”

“Then tell him to hire a private detective.”

“He don’t know any private dicks.”

“Tell him to try Google. Now, I’m all out of time. Good day.” Stone sat down and started to read a document, but Quince didn’t move. Stone looked up. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m trying to think of how I can persuade my boss not to kill you,” Quince said.

“He’s already tried,” Stone said, “and it didn’t work. I’m not as easy to kill as Jenna Jacoby, and I can counterpunch.”

“Jenna’s death was a tragic accident,” Quince said.

“Tragic, yes. Nothing accidental about it. Now that it occurs to me, the Maine State Police would like to have a word with you.”

“I got nothing to say to them.”

“Well, when they find you, they’ll think of something. I can tip them off as to your whereabouts.” He buzzed Joan three times.

Joan came into the office with Quince’s hat in one hand and her .45 in the other. She slapped his hat into his belly. “This way out,” she said.

“If you have to shoot him,” Stone said, “go for a head shot.”

“Love to,” Joan replied. Quince brushed past her and left.

“The .45 was a nice touch,” Stone said.

“I thought so, too.” Joan went back to her desk. Then Stone heard her locking the front door.