Stuart Woods - Shoot Him If He Runs

“Great, Carolyn,” he said. “I’m on my way home; would you please call the English Harbour Inn in St. Marks, ask for Ginny Heller or Stone Barrington and tell them about the jet? And ask them to let the Peppers know.”

“Of course, Lance,” she said. “Have a good weekend.”

“Oh, I’ll be in tomorrow,” Lance said. “I just have to do some stuff at home this afternoon.” He continued on his way.

Carolyn called the English Harbour Inn, but there was no answer in the room, so she left a message on the voicemail, then she went home, too.

Stone and Holly stood on the sandbar and watched the gray fin cut through the water between them and the beach. “The son of a bitch is back,” he said. Dino and Genevieve were headed for the beach at top speed.

“I hate that thing,” Holly said.

“It’s nothing personal,” Stone replied, not taking his eyes off the fin. “He’s just doing what sharks do.”

“Well, I wish he’d do it somewhere else.”

“You want to make for the beach?”

“Not while that beast is between us and home.”

“Okay, we’ll just wait here for him to come out and take a look at us.”

“We’re not splashing; we’re not bleeding; maybe he’ll just go away.”

“I hope so.” Stone involuntarily reached down and held onto his genitals.

“Are you holding what I think you’re holding?” Holly asked.

“Uh, yes.”

“You think he might find it attractive?”

“I’m not taking any chances; could be a girl shark.”

Once in his car, Lance dialed Holly’s satphone number again. Still no answer. He switched off the phone and tossed it back into his briefcase. There was going to be nothing for her to report, anyway; he felt it. Carolyn would get her the message about the jet, and he could go over everything with Holly on Monday.

Finally, the shark left the area, headed out to sea, and Stone and Holly made for the beach.

“I’d better go call Lance,” she said, toweling herself off and heading for the cottage.

“Kiss him for me,” Stone said.

Holly went into the cottage, got out her satphone, walked outside and dialed Lance’s satphone number. No message, and no voicemail. She dialed his number at Langley; maybe he was working on a Saturday. She got his voicemail. “Lance, it’s Holly; we’re done here, and we’ve come up dry. No leads, no nothing. Get us out of here, will you?” She hung up, then noticed that the message light on the room phone was blinking. She pressed the message button and waited.

“Ms. Heller and Mr. Barrington,” a woman’s voice said, “this is Carolyn Reese, calling for Lance Cabot. Lance would like you to know that a Hawker jet will pick up your party at the St. Marks airport at noon tomorrow, that’s Sunday noon, and he asks that you let the Peppers know. Good-bye.”

Holly called the Peppers.

“Hello?”

“Bill, it’s, ah, Ginny. We’re out of here at noon tomorrow, in a Hawker; meet us at the airport?”

“Well, that’s a relief. You made any progress on the other thing?”

“None, and I don’t think we’re going to.”

“See you at noon tomorrow, then,” Pepper said, then hung up.

Holly showered and put on some clothes, then went outside. Stone, Dino and Genevieve were lying on the beach a few yards away. “Hey, everybody!” she yelled. “We’re out of here at noon tomorrow, and there’s nothing to do but have a farewell dinner tonight!”

She got a round of applause from the beach. “I guess she spoke to Lance,” Stone said.

Thomas greeted them warmly at the bar, produced an ice-cold pitcher of vodka gimlets from his freezer and poured each of them one, then another for himself. He raised his glass. “To a safe trip home,” he said.

They all drank.

“How did you know we were leaving tomorrow?” Holly asked.

“The ban on travel has been lifted; could your departure be far behind it?”

“You’re right,” Holly said.

“I hope you were able to achieve the purpose of your visit.”

“There were two purposes,” Holly said, “and they were mutually exclusive. We achieved one of them.”

“Then your visit doesn’t sound like a failure.”

“No,” Holly said, “it wasn’t. I’m satisfied, and I hope my boss will be.”

“Thomas,” Stone said, “are you aware that there’s a large hammerhead shark stalking your beach?”

“Oh, that’s just Fred; he comes and he goes. He’s never attacked anyone.”

“Maybe he just hasn’t seen anyone tempting enough,” Stone said.

“You want to lead an expedition to kill the thing?”

“Uh, we’re leaving tomorrow, remember? I’ll leave you to deal with the consequences of Fred’s finding someone to his taste.”

Thomas went to serve another customer.

“Did you talk to Lance?” Stone asked Holly.

“No, he wasn’t answering. I left a message, telling him we were done, with no joy on Teddy, and he had someone call us about tomorrow’s jet. It’s at noon, and the Peppers are joining us.”

“Well,” Stone said, “I’m a little disappointed that we didn’t find Teddy; that would have been exciting.”

“Maybe too exciting,” Holly said. “But, anyway, I think that Croft was Teddy’s swan song, if, indeed, he was the one who killed the colonel. If Teddy’s still alive, I think he has gone to ground and will stay there.”

“Let’s hope you’re right,” Stone said, sipping his gimlet.

The headwaiter called them to dinner.

Stone was surprised to see Irene Foster seated alone in the restaurant. He and Holly walked over. “Good evening, Irene, are you alone?”

“Yes, Harold is sailing his boat up to Ft. Lauderdale, to sell it. I think he got tired of the cruising life.”

“Is he coming back?”

“I don’t think so; we haven’t been getting along very well the past few days; I think he’ll look for greener pastures, and frankly, that’s all right with me. I got tired of seeing him in his recliner, gazing at the TV.”

“Would you like to join us?” Holly asked.

“Thank you, Holly, but I’m just waiting for dessert, then I’ll go home. When are you leaving, Stone?”

“At noon tomorrow,” Stone said. “I want to thank you for your kindness to us while we were here.” He gave her his card. “If you should find yourself in New York, call me and let me take you to dinner.”

“Thank you, Stone, I’ll do that, though I don’t contemplate that sort of travel anytime soon.”

“Good-bye, then.” Holly gave her a kiss on the cheek, and they joined Dino and Genevieve at their table.

Teddy sat at his workbench, cleaning and oiling the sniper rifle. He completely dismantled it and cleaned each part carefully, then reassembled the weapon and dry-fired it a couple of times. He removed the stock and the silencer and put it back into its case.

Finally, he checked the equipment he had so carefully assembled, tightening bolts and wiping any dust away, then he opened the outer doors to his workshop, carried the three pieces outside and bolted them together at the top of the long concrete drain channel that emptied into the little gorge. He did some programming to an electronic device, half the size of a toaster, then fastened it in place and tested it. All was in working order.

He went to the garage, started his vehicle and drove down the mountain, heading over the hills into Markstown. He drove through the hilly streets, his headlights off, past the apartment building where Marcel duBois lived, and up a small hill to a little park that overlooked the residence. He pushed through some bushes to a five-foot wall made of coral, checked his sight lines and walked himself mentally through the shot. All was ready, though he reckoned he would have no more than five seconds from the time duBois left his building until he entered his car.