Stuart Woods - Reckless Abandon

“Go to your mother’s place, in Brooklyn. They’ll never think of looking for you there. Get out of here!”

Herbie sprinted down the block and was gone.

“Sorry about that,” Stone said to Ham. “Herbie’s a pest, hard to get rid of.”

“Quick thinking, there,” Holly said. “Ham, what are you doing here?”

Stone picked up Ham’s bag. “Let’s talk inside. The Feds may be able to read lips.”

“Is that who those two guys are?” Ham asked as Stone unlocked the front door and turned off the burglar alarm.

“Yep,” Stone said. “Holly’s boyfriend put them on us. Where are you staying, Ham?”

“Haven’t figured that out.”

“We’ve got room here.” He punched the elevator button and set Ham’s bag in the car. “Third floor, second door on your right.”

“Why, thank you,” Ham said.

“When you’re settled, come down and we’ll have some lunch.”

Ham got onto the elevator and started upstairs.

“Is your stuff out of my bedroom?” Stone asked Holly.

“Mostly. There are some things drying in the bathroom. Why?”

“Because if your father spots them, I’m dead. He’s a killer. You can see it in his eyes.”

“Oh, stop it, Stone. Ham knows I’m a grown-up.”

“He’s a father, and you’re his little girl; that’s all he knows. You’re sleeping in your own room while he’s here. Why is he here?”

“I don’t know. When he comes downstairs, I’ll ask him.”

“Why are you here, Ham?” Holly asked. They were eating pasta that Stone had prepared.

“Somebody messed up your place,” Ham said.

“What?”

“I went by to check on the house, and the front door was off the hinges. The place had been ransacked.”

“Anything missing?” Holly asked.

“How would I know? They had a go at your safe, but didn’t get in.”

“Not much in there-some papers and a couple of handguns.”

“Oh,” Ham said, reaching into an inside pocket. “I brought you a piece; thought you might need it.” He handed her a small pistol.

“Sig-Sauer P232,” she said, hefting it. “Nice. Thanks, Ham.”

“The magazine’s full, and there’s one in the chamber. The rest of a box of cartridges is upstairs, when you need it.”

“How’d you manage to get it here?”

“I showed the airlines my badge and declared the weapons. They were locked in a little case inside my bag.”

“What badge?” Stone asked.

Ham put a wallet on the table.

Stone opened it. “Lieutenant, Orchid Beach PD?”

“Ham’s kind of a consultant,” Holly said. “Dollar-a-year man.”

“Good idea. Makes carrying firearms easier, doesn’t it? What are you packing, Ham?”

Ham reached under his tweed jacket and put a Beretta 9mm on the table.

“Can you hit anything with that?” Stone asked.

“I fired expert in the army with the old automatic,” Ham said.

“I couldn’t hit a wall with that thing,” Stone said.

“Ham fired expert with everything the army had,” Holly said. “He’s the best shot in the world.”

Ham shook his head. “No, just the best shot you ever saw.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Stone said, glancing at Holly, who made a face at him.

“Be nice to my little girl,” Ham said.

Stone turned to Holly. “See?”

“Oh, Ham, shut up,” Holly said. “Don’t go scaring the men off.”

“I’m just saying,” Ham said.

“It’s all right, Ham,” Stone replied. “I understand.”

“Good. Good spaghetti, too,” he said.

“It’s penne, actually.”

“It’s all spaghetti to me.” He stuffed another forkful into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

“Did you do anything about my house?” Holly said.

“I got you a new door and installed it. Ginny was cleaning up the place when I left for the airport.”

“So you came up here to rescue me?”

“I just thought you might need somebody to watch your back.”

“The Feds seem to be doing that,” Stone pointed out. “After all, she’s the one who’s dogging their witness.”

“Any luck?” Ham asked.

“A couple of sightings, no collar.”

“Want me to collar him for you?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that, Ham. The Feds are involved, so is the Mafia. Grant’s up here. That’s why those guys are out in the street. They followed us to Connecticut, too.”

“I guess that boy is taking a proprietary interest in you.”

Stone laughed, and Holly shot him a glance.

“Don’t worry, it’s all business.”

“I liked him, till he got to running the Miami office,” Ham said. “After that, he was just another bureaucrat.”

“That’s what I hear,” Stone said.

“So who the hell are you, Stone?” Ham asked.

“Lawyer,” Stone replied.

“Oh.”

“Don’t take it so hard, Ham,” Holly said. “He’s also a retired cop.”

“Little young to be retired, aren’t you?”

“Bullet in the knee,” Stone said, realizing that he was adopting Ham’s mode of speech.

“Uh-huh,” Ham said. “Must of hurt.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You two are going to be comparing scars in a minute,” Holly said.

“Who was that Herbie character?” Ham asked.

“Former client and current nuisance,” Stone replied.

“He’s dangerous.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You can smell it on him. He’d sell you to save his own ass.”

“You’re a fine judge of character, Ham.”

“I trained a lot of young men in the army. You get to know what to expect of them.”

The doorbell rang. Stone picked up a phone, pressed a button, and listened for a moment. “Come on in,” he said, pressing another button. He turned to Holly. “It’s Lance.”

“Who’s Lance?” Ham asked.

“Tell you what, Ham,” Stone said. “You meet him and tell me.”

LANCE AMBLED INTO the kitchen, dressed in a yellow cashmere turtleneck, a tweed jacket, cavalry twill trousers, and short alligator boots. He might have been a visiting movie star. Introductions were made, and he sat down. Daisy walked over and sniffed him. Lance scratched the top of her head, then ignored her.

“What’s up?” Lance asked.

“The Feds are all over us,” Stone said. “Followed us up to Connecticut yesterday. They’re camped outside right now.”

“Well,” Lance drawled, “I guess they take exception to Holly’s trying to arrest their man.”

“Their murderer,” Holly said.

“Or is there some other reason they’d be interested in the two of you?” Lance asked.

“You take that one, Holly,” Stone said.

“Oh, a guy I went out with a few times works for them, followed me up here.”

“You were living with him,” Ham said.

Holly turned beet red. “Herbie was here when we got back,” she said, looking for cover.

Lance permitted himself a small groan. “Stone, I wish you’d take charge of your client.”

“He’s not my client anymore, Lance. You shipped him off to Saint Thomas, remember?”

“Except he didn’t ship.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“Where did he go?”

“I gave him some money and told him to go to his mother’s place, in Brooklyn.”

Holly laughed. “Stone told him they’d never think of looking for him there. I think he bought it.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about our Herbert,” Lance said, “it’s never to expect him to do as he’s told.”

Ham nodded. “I know the type.”

“You’re ex-army,” Lance said.

“Yep.”

Lance regarded him coolly for a long moment. “I read your service record,” he said.