Stuart Woods - Worst Fears Realized

“If you need anything, please ring, Miss Buckminster,” William said.

“I’ll do no such thing. You and Martha take the rest of the evening off.”

“Thank you, Miss, and good night. Good night, Mr. Barrington.”

“Good night, William, and thank you for…” He nodded toward the napkin. William left them alone.

“All right, I’m dying to know what’s in the napkin,” Sarah said.

“I’m afraid it’s rather embarrassing,” Stone said. “I forgot that I had put it in the bag with the wine.”

She slid the tray toward her and began unwrapping the napkin. “Jesus Christ!” she said, recoiling from the weapon. “You might as well have brought a rattlesnake!” She picked up the pistol by the barrel with thumb and forefinger and handed it to him. “Hide it somewhere,” she said.

Stone took the weapon and tucked it into his belt at the small of his back.

“I remember that you used to go armed, Stone, but that was when you were a policeman. What’s your excuse now?”

“I’m afraid I’m in a rather delicate position,” Stone said.

“An angry husband?”

“Hardly. You remember Dino.”

“How could I forget the ’orrible little man?”

“Some years ago, Dino and I sent someone to prison, and he’s apparently decided to make us pay for it.”

“Who is this person?”

“We don’t know, really. We only know that he’s… tried to harm people close to us.”

“Is that why you didn’t show up for lunch?”

“Yes, it is. I was so glad to hear from you that I completely forgot that I have to be circumspect about whom I see. This started only very recently, and I’m still getting used to the idea that I shouldn’t endanger other people by associating with them.”

“Well, this is really very exciting, isn’t it?”

“I just don’t want it to get too exciting.”

“Surely, you don’t think you’re endangering me simply by having dinner.”

“I took some precautions to see that I wasn’t followed, and there are several police officers downstairs. One of them is operating your elevator.”

Sarah burst out laughing. “This is hilarious,” she said. “I must say, I’ve never had a gun served with champagne.” She sipped the wine. “And Krug! It’s delicious.” She leaned over and kissed him. “And so are you.”

“When did you get back?”

“Yesterday; I’m still not entirely over the jet lag. I came by way of London, saw my parents for a few days.”

“Are you going back to Tuscany?”

“I haven’t decided. I’m back for a show of my work that will open next week – all the work that I’ve done for the past six years.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Stone said.

“I’ll give you a preview; I promise. Now you know that all I have done these past years is cloister myself in Tuscany and work; bring me up to date on you.”

“I’ll give you the short version. What exactly was I doing the last time we saw each other?”

“You were still on the police force, although I heard through friends that you left, and I remember that you had inherited that lovely old house from an aunt, I believe, and you were doing most of the remodeling work yourself.”

“A great aunt, and yes, I couldn’t afford to hire many people on my cop’s salary.”

“And you had gotten yourself shot and were recovering.”

“Right.”

“Where was it?”

“In the knee.”

“Oh, yes; no place important, then.”

Stone laughed. “So I retired from the force on a full-disability pension – I was nudged in that direction, if the truth be known. I was being awkward about a case I was working on, and somebody decided I shouldn’t be there anymore.”

“You were always the most unlikely policeman.” Sarah laughed.

“That’s pretty much what the NYPD thought.”

“So then what did you do? Live off the fat of the land?”

“I had my law degree, so I boned up and took the bar exam. I’m of counsel to Woodman and Weld.”

“I know that name; a prestigious firm, I believe. What does ‘of counsel’ mean?”

“It means I handle their clients’ more delicate problems. I work out of an office in my home rather than from the firm’s offices.”

“Sounds intriguing.”

“It sometimes is.”

“Are you prosperous, then?”

“More so than I had ever dreamed I would be. The house is finished and furnished; I live very nearly in the lap of luxury.”

“You’re certainly dressing better,” she said, stroking his jacket.

“I’d like to think I’m doing everything better,” he said.

“That remains to be seen.” She chuckled, her voice low. She stood up. “Come into the kitchen with me and watch me cook.”

“I’d love to,” he said. “May I make a phone call first? I promised I’d call Dino.”

“Of course; there’s a phone over there.” She pointed.

Stone went to the phone and dialed Dino’s number; he got an answering machine. “Dino, it’s Stone; I’m in Sarah’s apartment.” He repeated the number. “Everything seems all set downstairs; Anderson is running the elevator. Don’t call me unless it’s important.” He hung up, grabbed the champagne bottle, and followed Sarah toward the kitchen.

THE KITCHEN GLEAMED WITH RESTAURANT-quality appliances and granite countertops. Sarah seated Stone on a stool where he could watch, then she went to the huge range, poured a generous dollop of olive oil into a skillet, and while it was heating, chopped some plum tomatoes, garlic, and fresh basil. When the oil was sizzling, she dropped half a dozen slices of Italian bread into it and fried them on both sides. She arranged a small platter with the bread slices, then spooned the mixture of tomatoes, garlic, and basil onto each slice. She picked up the platter and headed for the door.

“Follow me,” she said.

Stone grabbed the bottle of Amerone and followed her through a swinging door and into a charming little corner dining room, where the table was already set for two.

“This is where the family dines,” she said. “There’s a much larger dining room through there, with a table that seats eighteen.” She nodded at the door.

Stone lit the candles on the table, and they sat down facing the windows, which overlooked Central Park and the lights of the city to the south. He poured them both a glass of wine and raised his glass. “Happy reunions,” he said.

“Hear, hear,” she replied, sipping her wine. “Oh, this is huge . What is it?”

“An Amerone.”

“Luscious. Now eat your bruscetta.”

Stone sliced off a chunk of bread and put it into his mouth. “Wonderful,” he said. “It’s so simple, but it’s really terrific.”

“Glad you approve. I told you I learned a lot in Tuscany.”

“Where exactly were you?”

“In the Chianti country, north of Siena and south of Florence.”

“Do you know I’ve never been to Europe?”

Sarah looked shocked. “I don’t believe it.”

“When I was a cop, I couldn’t afford it, and now I always seem to be too busy.”

“We will cure that condition,” she said. “Just as soon as my show is launched.”

“That might be fun,” he replied, swallowing the last of his bruscetta.

“It certainly will be, I assure you.” She took away his plate. “The main course is in the oven; I’ll be right back.”

Stone sipped his wine and gazed out over the park. He loved his house, he thought, but it didn’t have views like this.

Sarah returned with a hot crockery dish. “Cannelloni,” she said, serving him the little crêpes, stuffed with ground pork. She spooned a creamy sauce over them, then served herself.