“Dino,” Stone said, “I think it would be good if you moved into the house, into Esme’s bedroom. Arrington can bunk with me, and there’s another bedroom for Peter.”
“Why move? To cover your ass?”
“That and because there’s no alarm system in the guest house.”
“Oh.”
Chapter 26
TWO DAYS LATER, Stone stood on the tarmac and watched the Centurion Studios’ Gulfstream IV land at Rockland Airport. Peter was the first down the airplane’s stairs, at a run. He was six now and taller than when Stone had last seen him the year before. His mother followed, carrying her overnight case, and the two pilots then dealt with the luggage.
There were hugs, then Stone loaded their luggage into his airplane. “Peter, I think we’ll let you be copilot today, and your mother can be the passenger.”
The boy was delighted. Soon Stone had them buckled in and was running through his checklist, giving Peter a running commentary.
“I hope this isn’t going to be like the last ride with you,” the boy said.
Stone laughed. On their last ride Stone had been at the controls of a helicopter, a machine he hadn’t known how to fly, had made a very rough landing, and they were both lucky to be alive. “I think you’ll find this a smoother trip; shorter, too.”
They lifted off and turned out over Penobscot Bay. “There’s our island,” Stone said, pointing. “Can you see it, Arrington?”
Arlington could hear and speak from the rear through her headset. “Yes, it’s beautiful.”
“There’s our landing strip,” Stone said to Peter.
“It looks a lot shorter than the one we just landed on,” Peter said.
“It is, but my airplane is a lot smaller than the Centurion jet, so it can use shorter strips.” Stone lined up for the runway, announced his intentions over the radio and looked for traffic. A moment later they were on the runway and braking. Dino sat in the station wagon, waiting for them.
They stopped at the Dark Harbor Shop for the papers and an ice cream cone for Peter, then continued to the house.
“It’s lovely, Stone,” Arrington said. “How did you find it?”
“I’ll tell you the story later,” Stone said. He took them into the house and got them settled. Peter ran out to the dock to have a look at the boats, and Arrington relaxed in the study.
“So, tell me why you bought a house in Maine,” she said.
Stone sat down beside her. “It belonged to my first cousin, Dick Stone, who died recently and left me the house. Well, the use of the house for my lifetime and that of my family.”
“How old a man was Dick?”
“My age.”
“Heart attack?”
“Not exactly.”
“Stone, I’m beginning to get the feeling that I’m not going to like the rest of this story.”
“Dick and his wife and daughter were murdered a couple of weeks ago.”
“Not in this house, I hope.”
“Dick was at his desk, over there; his wife and daughter were in Dino’s room.”
“Who murdered them, and why?”
“Dick was CIA; the murders seem to be related to his work.”