Lucid Intervals

39

Felicity was taking a nap when the phone rang, and Stone picked it up. Must be a wrong number, he thought. Nobody knew he was at this number in Maine. “Hello?”

“Stone, it’s Jim Hackett.”

Stone was stunned. How on earth had he been found? “Hello, Jim. This is quite a surprise. I’m at what Dick Cheney used to call ‘an undisclosed location.’ ”

“You’re at Dick Stone’s house on Islesboro,” Hackett said. “Did you think I wouldn’t have a locator on my airplane?”

“I should have known,” Stone said.

“I have a satellite photograph of it on the ramp at Islesboro, too. Oh, by the way, congratulations on your type rating,” Hackett said. “Dan Phelan was impressed with your ability to learn quickly, and so am I. Frankly, I thought it would take you at least another week to pass your check ride. And congratulations on your landing in Islesboro; I wouldn’t have attempted that.”

“It’s an easy airplane to fly, once you know the avionics,” Stone said.

“You’re too modest. Are you and Dame Felicity all right?”

“I’m very well,” Stone replied. He wasn’t going to play that game.

“I understand your former wife took exception to Dame Felicity’s presence in your life.”

“How do you come up with this stuff?” Stone asked, baffled.

“Stone, give me a little credit,” Hackett replied. “I own one of the largest private security firms in the world; I have access to all sorts of information.”

“I’m impressed,” Stone said.

“Does Dame Felicity still think I’m Stanley Whitestone?”

“I can’t tell you what she thinks.”

“I understand she’s having some difficulty verifying my identity,” Hackett said. “I would have thought my fingerprints would have helped, but you’ll get a package tomorrow that may help.”

“A package of what?” Stone asked.

“Hang on.” Hackett began a muffled conversation with someone else in the room and then came back on the phone. “I have to run,” he said. “Stay in Maine with the airplane for as long as you like. If you need to contact me, call Heather Finch at my office, and she can patch you through to wherever I am.”

“Where are you?” Stone asked, but Hackett had already hung up.

THEY DINED AT the Dark Harbor Inn, a handsome house on the outskirts of the village. There were only two other couples in the dining room, and neither of them, Stone thought, looked like anyone who would be surveilling them.

“You’re thinking what I’m thinking,” Felicity said.

“What?”

“About our fellow diners. I shouldn’t worry; no one has any idea where we are, except my office in London, not even the ambassador.”

“I’m afraid that’s not so,” Stone said.

“What? You told someone where we were going?”

“Only Joan, and she’s completely trustworthy.”

“Who else could know, then?”

“While you were napping I had a phone call on the house phone from Jim Hackett.”

Felicity nearly choked on her Rob Roy. “Then we’re blown?”

“Not exactly; the airplane is blown. Jim has a locator on it, and he knew about the house. I told him about it when we visited his place on Mount Desert Island.”

“My God,” she said, “if Hackett knows where we are, then what’s the point in coming up here?”

“To keep Dolce from killing you,” Stone said. “Remember?”

“Well, there is that, but if Hackett can find us, maybe she can, too.”

“She is not acquainted with Hackett, and she doesn’t have the resources to find us. She doesn’t even know of the existence of the house here.”

“Well, if Hackett knows, then Stanley Whitestone knows.”

“We don’t know that Hackett is Whitestone, but I have to tell you I have underestimated Jim Hackett. He knows of your people’s difficulties in confirming his identity. He knew that you were running his fingerprints.”

“That’s impossible.”

“He told me he’s sending a package that will be here tomorrow that will be helpful.”

“How could he possibly get a package here tomorrow?”

“That part is easy; Federal Express delivers five days a week.”

“He told you he was going to help confirm his identity?”

“I’ve told you exactly what he said. After all, as he pointed out, he owns one of the largest private security companies in the world; he has access to all sorts of information.”

“He knows too much,” Felicity said. “If he knows about my running his prints, then there’s a leak in my service.”

“From what little I know about him,” Stone said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he has one or more of your people on his payroll and maybe some CIA employees, too, as well as the FBI and the NYPD. He knew about Dolce’s attack on you, and the department is the most likely source of that information.”

“Good God! Next, he’ll have sat shots of us in bed together.”

“I doubt that; Dick’s house was built to be very, very secure. He does, however, have a sat shot of his airplane sitting on the tarmac at the airport here.”

She made a small moaning noise.

“That’s my fault; I could have as easily flown my own airplane, but I wanted to fly the jet.” He managed a rueful grin. “I wanted to impress you with my newly acquired skills.”

She laughed. “Well, you certainly did that with your landing. Frankly, I thought you were mad.”

“No, as part of my training I practiced short-field landings, so I was pretty confident we wouldn’t end up in the trees.”

“I think you’re the most confident man I know,” she said, taking his hand across the table.

“I don’t always feel that way,” he admitted. “Only when I know what I’m doing, which is only some of the time.”

“If you were British, I’d be trying to recruit you, just as Hackett is.”

“You mean, I’d have to be British to be recruited as a spy? You have a very narrow view of the work of espionage, don’t you?”

“Oh, we have an American or two on the payroll, but they’re not on the inside, just as you couldn’t be.”

“It has occurred to me that, if the American government knew what I’m doing for you now, I might be arrested for spying for a foreign government.”

“Should I conceal your payment for this job?” she asked. “I can, easily.”

“Please don’t. I don’t think it’s treason for me to do an investigative task for you, but if you concealed the source of the payment and someone stumbled on that, well…”

“It wouldn’t look good, I suppose.”

“I’ll be sure to declare the income on my tax return, too, and list the source as the Foreign Office.”

“That should put a stop to any inquiry,” she laughed.

THEY DINED ON filet of venison and drank a bottle of a very good Australian Shiraz, then went home and fell asleep in each other’s arms. Stone dreamed that Jim Hackett was downstairs, waiting for them to wake up.