Shoot First (A Stone Barrington Novel) Read online

  “That won’t be necessary,” she said. “I called for a car. Just lead me to your front door.”

  He did so, and a sleek car with a small antenna array on top was parked just outside. As they approached it, the rear door slid open, and Meg got in. “This is my pride and joy,” she said, giving him a kiss.

  The door slid shut, and the car moved silently away, turning at the corner.

  Stone went back inside. “Is Meg gone?” Viv asked.

  “Her car came for her,” Stone said. “No driver, just the car.”

  * * *

  —

  TEN MINUTES LATER, the front doorbell rang, and Stone answered it.

  Meg stood there, looking unhappy.

  “I hope the car didn’t have an accident,” Stone said, bringing her in.

  “It didn’t,” Meg replied. “It just stopped. One of my techs is with it now.”

  “You look as though you could use a drink,” Stone said.

  “I certainly could,” she replied, and he poured her a gimlet.

  “Did the tech figure it out?”

  “He thinks it’s a software problem,” she replied.

  “Software is what you do, isn’t it?”

  “It is, and we have rewritten it half a dozen times over the past two years. I would think it was impossible that we would still have a bug, but while the tech was there, he got a call. All six of our vehicles in New York stopped, too.”

  “So, they all have the same software bug?”

  “So it seems,” she said. “I’ve already called a team into the office to get to work on it.” She yawned. “I’m tired,” she said.

  “Then why don’t you stay the night?”

  She looked up at him. “Are your intentions honorable?”

  “Only as honorable as they need to be,” Stone replied.

  5

  On Monday morning the directors of the Steele Group reassembled at the golf course.

  “How’s Al Harris?” Stone asked Arthur.

  “On the mend. He insisted that we play today, and he swears he’ll be at the board meeting on Friday.”

  “Did he have surgery?”

  “Yes, and his arm will be in a sling for a bit.”

  “When you speak to him, tell him I wish him well and look forward to seeing him at the board meeting.”

  They had to wait five minutes for Meg to show up, and when she did it was in a taxi. Stone supposed she was saving her driverless car for its demonstration to the board, if it was working again.

  “Sorry about that,” she said to Arthur. “I don’t need to warm up. I did my stretches in the backseat of the cab.”

  “You have the honor,” Arthur said, ushering her onto the tee. She hit it straight for a good two hundred yards.

  Stone still sliced his drive, but not into the rough. He had a shot at the green with a good lie.

  Arthur’s went straight and landed a yard behind Meg’s.

  Arthur Jr. hooked into the deep rough.

  “I can’t get him to take lessons,” Arthur said to Stone as their cart trundled down the fairway. “He’s convinced he can teach himself, like that left-handed pro who says he’s never had a lesson. What’s his name?”

  “Bubba Watson,” Stone replied.

  “Tell me,” Arthur said, “how do you like your rental house?”

  “It’s wonderful,” Stone said. “I’ve had to resist finding out who the owner is and making an offer.”

  “That’s right, you have the house-buying disease, don’t you?”

  “I’m afraid so. I did sell one, though.”

  “Which one?”

  “Washington, Connecticut. I just wasn’t using it.”

  “Do you think you’d use a house here?” Arthur asked.

  “A warm place in winter is very inviting,” Stone replied, “even if it’s only for long weekends.”

  They all hit their second shots and drove on.

  * * *

  —

  AT THE FINISH, Arthur reviewed their scorecards, and Meg had won it on handicap. Arthur was second, and Stone was third.

  “I guess we had the lucky foursome,” Arthur said.

  Stone was putting his and Meg’s clubs into the convertible when the now-familiar police detectives drove up.

  “Back already?” Stone asked. “What’s new?”

  “We didn’t get the Bellinis, but our guys found the weapon,” Harry Kaufelt reported. “It’s a goddamned Kalashnikov. I wonder what that means.”

  “Probably nothing,” Stone said. “It was available, and the guy bought it, and it might have been a lucky thing for us. A lot of those weapons are old and war-worn, and its accuracy may have suffered.”

  “Did you hear more than one shot?” Harry asked.

  “No, I think that’s all there was. Have you located the vehicle?”

  “Got that, too, stolen and abandoned near the airport, and it was cleaned of any evidence. We got Bellini’s phone number in California and called it. A housekeeper said the Bellinis are on vacation in Europe, and she doesn’t know when they’ll be back.”

  “They’ve certainly had time to get to Europe,” Stone said.

  “I’m just glad nobody’s dead,” Harry said. “Visitors here get hurt a lot—motor scooter accidents, scuba diving, bikes hit by cars—and about once a year some drunken spring-breaker will take a dive off the end of the White Street Pier into three feet of water and break his neck, never mind all the shallow-water-no-diving signs. But this is the first time I can remember when a sniper took a shot at somebody, and it rankles. The only hired killers we’ve ever dealt with were brought in by drug dealers to kill other drug dealers, and their practice is to walk up behind a guy and shoot him twice in the head.”

  “Is that still happening?”

  “No, the drug trade here is pretty much small-time, now. Oh, once in a while a few bales of marijuana wash up on a beach or a fisherman is found with a fish stuffed with a few kilos of cocaine, but that’s about it.”

  “Anything Dino or I can do to help?”

  “No, I just thought I’d tell you about the weapon and the car.”

  “Thanks, Harry, I’m glad to hear how it’s going.” Stone got into his car, where Meg was waiting, and told her what Harry had said.

  “Maybe it wasn’t Bellini,” she said. “Maybe it wasn’t me the shooter was aiming at.”

  “That’s possible, but when I take you back to New York, we’re going to pretend you’re in terrible danger.”

  “Are you taking me back to New York?”

  “You said you wanted to look at apartments, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did, so I should consider this an invitation?”

  “Unless you want me to just throw a sack over your head, sling you over my shoulder, and carry you onto the airplane.”

  “As romantic as that sounds, I think I’ll just accept your invitation.”

  “Good idea,” Stone said.

  6

  Stone woke up beside Meg Harmon, and he thought for a moment how nice it was to share a bed.

  Meg’s eyelids fluttered. “Where am I?” she asked.

  “In New York,” Stone replied. “Don’t you remember? I threw a bag over your head, slung you over my shoulder, and flew you out of Key West.”

  She sat up and looked around the room. Stone admired her breasts. “This isn’t New York,” she said.

  “My mistake—we’re still in Key West.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I’m not tired of Key West yet.”

  “I hope that’s not all you’re not tired of,” Stone replied. “What would you like for breakfast?”

  “Whatever you’re having.”

  Stone picked up the phone and buzzed Anna in the kitchen. “The usual,” he said, “but for two.”
>
  “You are very hungry today,” Anna replied.

  “Two plates, please.” He hung up and turned to Meg. “What would you like to do until breakfast arrives?”

  “Watch TV,” she replied. “Ask me again after breakfast.” She fell back onto the bed.

  Stone turned on Morning Joe.

  * * *

  —

  AFTER THE BREAKFAST DISHES had been removed from the bed, Stone asked Meg again, and she made a different suggestion. After he had respected her wishes and cooled down, Stone excused himself and picked up the phone.

  “The Barrington Practice,” Joan said, “sometimes known as Woodman & Weld.”

  “It’s me,” he said.

  “I know, I recognized your breathing.”

  “Who owns the rental house in Key West?”

  “It’s the rental agents’ policy not to reveal the name of the owners. I think they’re afraid that, next time, you’ll call them direct.”

  “Please call them and ask if the house is for sale.”

  “I don’t need to call them, they told me at the outset that it was for sale.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to set you off on another house-buying jag.”

  “I buy houses one at a time, not in jags. How much are they asking?”

  Joan told him.

  “Offer them twenty-five percent less, and tell them I won’t consider a counteroffer, just yes or no.”

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  “Call me back when you have the owner’s answer.”

  “Roger.” They hung up.

  “You’re going to buy the house?” Meg asked.

  “No, I’ve offered them too little, and when they turn me down I’ll forget about it. It’s how I keep from buying too many houses.”

  “Your mind works in weird ways.”

  “What’s weird about that?”

  “It’s weird to make an offer for a house you don’t want.”

  “I suppose it’s a little unusual, but I wouldn’t go as far as weird.”

  “Trust me, it’s weird,” she said. “Where do you presently have houses?”

  “In Los Angeles, Paris, London, and the south of England.”

  “How about New York?”

  “Yes, in New York. Oh, and Maine—I forgot Maine.”

  “Why so many houses?”

  “I don’t like hotels, so when I go somewhere I like, I’d rather stay at home. But I like my houses to be run like hotels.”

  Meg shook her head. “This just gets weirder and weirder.”

  “How long have you been a billionaire?” Stone asked.

  “A few months.”

  “How many houses have you bought since then?”

  “Only one.”

  “But now you’re shopping for something in New York?”

  “Yes, but that will only make two.”

  “And you think you’ll be finished when you have two houses?”

  “Well,” she said, “I think I might like a place in Ireland.”

  “Where else?”

  “Maybe the South of France.”

  “All right, you’re up to four houses.”

  “But I haven’t bought that many.”

  “Only because you haven’t had time,” Stone said. “Stick around.”

  The phone rang. “Hello?”

  “It’s Joan. They’ve accepted your offer.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve just bought yourself another house.”

  “They accepted twenty-five percent off the ask?”

  “Yes, and that includes the car and the golf cart, too.”

  “When do they want to close?”

  “Today,” she said.

  “Nobody closes today.”

  “They said that Jack Spottswood has all the paperwork ready to go. You can go in anytime today and sign the documents. I’ll wire the funds right away. Anything else?”

  “I can’t think of anything,” Stone muttered.

  “Good. I’ll get the utilities transferred to your name as soon as you have title.”

  “Thank you,” Stone said weakly, then hung up.

  “I take it you’ve just bought another house,” Meg said.

  “I didn’t mean to,” Stone said. “It was an accident.”

  “Any psychiatrist will tell you there are no accidents. In this case, you made an offer, and they accepted. It’s really hard to buy a house accidentally.”

  “I didn’t even have it inspected. What if it has termites? I’ve heard they have termites in Key West.”

  “You can have it inspected, and if you have termites, you can have it tented.”

  “What’s that?”

  “They throw a big tent over the place, run you out, and pump a lot of termite-killing stuff into the tent. Takes about a day.”

  “Oh.”

  “Anyway, the place seems to be in fabulous shape. The owner has probably already had it tented.”

  “I’ll ask,” Stone said. He called Joan.

  “Hi there, what a surprise to hear from you.”

  “Yeah, yeah, call the rental agent and find out if the house has been tented for termites.”

  “It was tented last week,” Joan said.

  “Okay. Tell the agent that the house won’t be rented anymore.”

  “Okay.”

  “And call Arthur Steele’s office and have the house put on my homeowner’s insurance policy.”

  “Already done. Anything else?”

  “Yes. I want to know who the seller is.”

  “Arthur Steele.”

  7

  Stone drove to Fleming Street, to the offices of Spottswood, Spottswood & Spottswood and climbed the steep stairs.

  Jack Spottswood greeted him in his office with a handshake and a smile.

  Stone settled into a chair and took a few deep breaths.

  “Would you like a glass of water?” Jack asked.

  “Thanks, I’m fine.”

  “There’s an elevator, you know.”

  “I must have missed that. I’ll tell you a law firm joke,” he said.

  “Shoot,” Jack replied.

  “A man calls a law office, and a man answers, ‘Spottswood, Spottswood & Spottswood.’

  “The caller says, ‘May I speak to Mr. Spottswood, please?’

  “‘I’m sorry, Mr. Spottswood died some years ago.’

  “‘Then may I speak to Mr. Spottswood?’

  “‘I’m afraid Mr. Spottswood is on vacation this week.’

  “‘All right,’ the man says, exasperated, ‘may I speak to Mr. Spottswood?’

  “‘Speaking,’ the lawyer replies.”

  Jack laughed. “Never heard that one.” He reached for a stack of documents and plopped them down in front of Stone. “There’s a condition report and an appraisal there,” he said. “You’ll be delighted to know that it appraised for half a million dollars more than you’re paying for it.”

  “I’m happy to know that,” Stone replied, starting to sign documents.

  “And the owner had any problems mentioned in the inspection repaired at his expense.”

  “Arthur must have wanted to sell very badly,” Stone said.

  “He said he wasn’t using it enough—he’s owned it for three years and has been down here twice in that time.”

  “Arthur’s crazy.”

  “Not entirely, Stone,” Jack said. “He made a million dollars on the sale.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

  “I didn’t know you were interested until the paperwork arrived this morning.”

  “This morning?”

  “About eight-thirty.”

  “
I hadn’t even made an offer at that time.”

  “I guess Arthur figured you’d bite, once you’d spent a couple of days in the house. I think it’s the most beautiful house in Key West, except for mine.”

  Stone handed him back the signed documents.

  Jack’s secretary leaned through the doorway. “We’ve received Mr. Barrington’s funds,” she said. “Shall I disburse?”

  “You may disburse,” Jack said. “Congratulations, Stone, you’ve bought the second most beautiful house in Key West. I hope we’ll see you down here often. Would you like to join the Key West Yacht Club?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Stone replied. He had dined there a couple of times.

  “I can arrange that for you. Would you like a berth? There’s one going.”

  “I don’t have a boat here.”

  “My advice is take the berth. Then, should you get the boat bug, you’ll have a place to dock it. There won’t be another one available until somebody dies.”

  “I’ll take the dock,” Stone said, rising and shaking Jack’s hand. “Thank you for handling this so smoothly, Jack. I’ll try and send something your way from Woodman & Weld.”

  “Always happy to have new business,” Jack replied.

  Stone took the elevator down. Why risk breaking a hip?

  * * *

  —

  WHEN HE ARRIVED back at the house, Meg and Viv were having coffee in the outdoor living room. “Did you tell Viv?” he asked Meg.

  “Tell her what?”

  “Where I’ve been.”

  “Oh, yes,” Meg said, “he’s been to his lawyer’s office.”

  “My God,” Viv said. “Don’t tell me he’s bought this house.”

  “He has.”

  “That’s funny,” Viv said, “just last night Dino said to me, ‘I love this house, why don’t we buy it?’ I gave him my list of reasons, including that we couldn’t spend enough time here and that we couldn’t afford it, then I said, ‘If you’ll just be patient for a few days, Stone will buy it, and then we can stay here whenever we like.’”

  Dino arrived in time to hear that. “Did he buy the house?”

  “He did,” his wife replied.

  “Can we stay here whenever we like?”