26
Stone took the two policemen through Meg’s history with the assassins. “We didn’t know they had traced us here, until our captain noticed, on radar, a boat following us half a mile back. Then we got fogged in. This morning they were only thirty meters away, but still hidden by the fog. We heard a magazine being shoved home—you know how sound carries across water—and then we headed for home. They followed, then disappeared. Apparently they used their speed to get ahead of us and wait for us to anchor.”
Both cops were taking notes and nodding. “And you think they were hired by this Gino Bellini fellow?”
“We do, but we can’t prove it, now that Joe Cross and his lady friend are dead.”
“My report will go in tomorrow morning,” the lead cop said, “and it will say justified homicide, self-defense. I’ve no doubt that the lethal round came from Mr. Rawls’s very impressive weapon, but that will be affirmed by our lab.”
“In that case,” Stone said, “would you like to switch from coffee to something more soothing?”
“I’d like to,” he replied, “but our chopper’s waiting, along with the rest of our crew and the two corpses. We’ll take them back to our headquarters for processing.” They stood up, shook hands, and Stone escorted them to the door.
He came back to find Ed Rawls at the bar, pouring. “I don’t think that could have gone more smoothly,” he said, handing glasses to Stone and Meg and resuming his comfortable chair before the fire. “Except that they got off a round before I fired my shot.”
“Her round made it self-defense,” Stone said, “and your round executed their sentence. I’m glad we don’t have to put Meg through a trial.”
“You know, I’ve only killed one person before today, and that was in a firefight in Finland. I’m glad I’ve kept up my shooting skills, though.”
“So am I,” Meg said.
“And what are you going to do about Mr. Bellini?” Rawls asked Stone.
“Well,” Stone said, “I doubt if we’ll get a chance for you to shoot him.”
“No,” Meg echoed, “Gino isn’t the type to do his own dirty work—he needed Dirty Joe and Jungle Jane for that, and I doubt if he knows any other assassins.”
“That reminds me,” Stone said, picking up his phone and pressing a number from his favorites.
“BACCHETTI,” Dino said.
“Hi, there.”
“Hi, yourself. How’s Maine?”
“Dangerous, until about an hour ago.”
“How so?”
“Bellini’s people from Islamorada managed to follow us here and took a shot at us about an hour and a half ago.”
“Did they hit anything?”
“Just a cabin window aboard Breeze. You remember Ed Rawls?”
“Sure, give him my best.”
“He took them both out with a single round.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I kid you not. The state police are flying their bodies to their morgue as we speak.”
“So it’s over?”
“As far as Dirty Joe and Jungle Jane are concerned, yes, and you can notify the authorities in the Keys that they are no longer being sought.”
“Will do. But you’ve still got to deal with Bellini?”
“Right. I think we’re safe in our beds for the time being, though. You and Viv want to come up here for a few days?”
“I’m afraid the boss won’t give me any more time off for a while, and Viv is somewhere in darkest California, doing good work for Strategic Services.”
“See you when we get back, then.”
“Looking forward.” They both hung up.
“You’re staying for dinner, Ed.” It wasn’t a question.
“You talked me into it, but I’ll have to go home and get a steak.”
“Mary will find something that meets your requirements.”
Mary came into the living room, wiping her hands on her apron. “I heard that,” she said. “What’s your pleasure, Mr. Rawls?”
“I’m easily pleased,” Rawls replied.
“How about a nice crown roast of lamb?”
“Sold, thank you very much.”
“Dinner’s in an hour,” she said, then went back to her kitchen.
Stone poured them another drink, while they waited.
THAT NIGHT, in bed, Meg said, “I’d like to go back to New York tomorrow, if that’s convenient for you. I still have to look at apartments, and I’m not through shopping.”
“You’ve had enough of Maine?”
“Well, let’s see, pursuit, gunfight, and fatalities, not to mention the fog.”
Stone laughed. “Your reasons are good enough. We’ll have a good breakfast, and I’ll call for the light plane to come get us. We’ll be at my house by noon.”
“I like the sound of that,” she said.
“In the meantime, let’s see what we can do to take your mind off Maine.” He dove under the covers and did what he could to amuse her.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING they loaded their luggage and the dogs into the Cessna and took off for Rockland. The fog was gone, and they had a glittering Maine day for their flight.
Fred awaited at the airport, and Stone took the shotgun seat, leaving the broad rear seat for Meg and the puppies.
Joan greeted everybody as they got out of the car, while Fred took their bags upstairs. “And how are my dogs?” Joan cried, kneeling to greet them. She received many kisses.
“Anything to attend to in the office?” Stone asked.
“Always,” Joan replied.
“I’ll go call your friend Margo and talk apartments with her,” Meg said.
Stone went into his office and sat down at his desk. “What’s up?”
“Are you and Meg still being hunted?” Joan asked.
“The hunters became prey and are out of the picture, their remains in the custody of the Maine State Police.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Joan said, plopping a stack of mail and messages onto his desk. “Now, you play with that for a while, then we’ll talk responses.”