A Safe House

39

Harley Quince had, indeed, watched the football game and seen all the promos for 60 Minutes. But he was still surprised when Jenna popped onto the screen, and he was held rapt as she was interviewed. At the end, when Jenna said she had a list of one who hated her, he figured she was talking not about the senator, but him. And he did not enjoy being discussed in such terms on national television.

He was inclined to get out his nine millimeter and fire a few rounds into her image on the TV, but when he thought about how much he had paid for the instrument, he thought better of it.

Still, she wasn’t going to get away with dragging his name through the mud, even if he deserved it. He packed some things, then got onto Amtrak for Pennsylvania Station.

By the time Harley reached New York, Jenna — free as a bird — was sacking Bergdorf’s and filling the rear seat and trunk of Stone’s Bentley with boxes and shopping bags. She called Stone on the way home.

“Yep?”

“I’ve just bought a new dress,” she said. “Can we have dinner somewhere tonight where I can wear it?”

“Sure. How about the Carlyle’s restaurant?”

“Perfect!”

They were set down at the Seventy-Sixth Street entrance to the hotel, heeding Stone’s native caution.

“Oh, I wanted to make a splash,” Jenna said. He stopped her at the entrance to the restaurant, which was packed. “There,” he said, “make a splash.” Not only did she do that, Stone reflected, but she got a standing O from the restaurant’s patrons.

Settled in a chair where the sight lines from every table to Jenna were unimpeded, she reigned for the whole evening. The famous and the semi-famous stopped by the table, shook her hand, and ignored Stone, which was okay with him.

It was late when they piled into the Bentley, and Stone was immediately on alert. “Motorcycle on your left, Fred.”

“I got him, sir. I’ll squash him like a bug if he makes a wrong move,” Fred said, adjusting his rearview mirror.

Jenna reached out for the window switch. “I need some air,” she said.

“No!” Stone said, catching her wrist. “That window is all that’s between you and a bullet. I’ll give you more air-conditioning.” He played with the knobs, and she stopped fanning herself.

“I don’t know what you’re so nervous about,” Jenna said. “I’m a free woman and bulletproof!”

“How many drinks have you had?” Stone asked.

“Who’s counting?” she asked, reaching for the switch again. This time she was too quick for him, and the window slid a third of the way down before he could stop it.

Fred made the car do a little dance, and a rear fender caught the motorcycle and crowded it into a passing delivery truck, but not before there were two pffts, and two splash marks appeared on the inside of Stone’s window. He got the offending window up quickly.

“What are you doing?” Jenna demanded hotly.

Stone took her by the hair and turned her head toward his window. “Do you know what those two marks are?”

“Who cares?”

“I care. My head was right in line with them a moment ago.”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“The marks were made by bullets, and those pfft sounds you heard were from a silenced pistol.”

“Oh, don’t be silly!”

“I’m sending you back to Key West tomorrow,” he said.

“No, no, it’s too hot there! Why don’t you want me to be cool?”

“I want you to sober up and think about what’s going on around you,” Stone said.

“Sober is no fun.”

“Neither is being shot in the head. If you doubt that, just put your window down again.”

“I think we’re all right now, sir,” Fred said. “He’s still tangled up with the delivery truck. There! He’s reversed course and gone the other way.”

“You see?” Jenna bubbled. “There’s no danger.”

“He might just try for another shot,” Stone said, “and you’ll get a second chance to have your brains scattered all over my beautiful leather seats.”

“Oh, you’re more concerned with your leather seats than with my brains!”

Stone took her by the shoulders, twisted her body, and sat her down on the nice wool carpet that covered the floor. “Stay there,” he commanded, “or I’ll put my foot on your neck to keep you in place!”

They pulled into Stone’s garage, and the door closed behind them. Jenna was out of the car like a rocket. “I will not be treated this way!” she yelled, stamping her foot for effect.

“Then sleep somewhere else besides in my bed tonight, and tomorrow morning, when you’ve sobered up, start packing!”

“Packing? For where?”

“Anyplace you like, except where I am,” Stone said, and left her standing in the hallway outside the master suite.