Stone Barrington 06-11

reach me by leaving a message on the machine in Turtle Bay.”

    “Your cell’s not working?”
    “Off and on where I am. It won’t be reliable.”
    “I’ve still got a key to your place. I’m on it.”
    “Later.” Stone hung up. Immediately, the phone rang, and he let Corey answer it.
    “It’s Lance, for you,” she said, handing him the phone.
    “Yes, Lance?”
    “I heard Billy Bob’s message on your answering machine. Don’t let him get to you; that was the purpose of the message.”
    “I know that; I’m trying not to think about it.”
    “Arrington was smart enough not to mention Peter. I don’t think Billy Bob has any idea he was with the two of you. He may check out the Virginia house and find out he’s not there and begin to suspect.”
    “Let him suspect; it won’t do him any good. Peter’s well protected by your people.”
    “He certainly is. They don’t come any better than McGonigle, and he has a first-rate team, Corey, especially.”
    “I figured.”
    “I’ve pulled out all the stops on this, Stone; we’re running down every piece of information on Billy Bob and each of the aliases we know about. Something will turn up.”
    “I hope you’re right.”
    “I could get the Bureau in on this, but it would get leaked. You want that?”
    Stone thought about it for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. I think it’s better if we keep it tight.”
    “Good. If I get to a point where I think it would really help, I’ll call them in.”
    “All right.”
    “Try to get some rest, and keep Peter entertained. I don’t want you to leave the house, though.”
    “Where’s my car?”

    “Still in your driveway; you won’t need it until this is over.”
    “Right. Thanks, Lance.” He hung up. Peter had come into the kitchen. “Good morning, Peter.”
    “Good morning, Stone.”
    Corey gave the boy a brilliant smile. “Would you like some breakfast?”
    “Yes, please,” Peter replied.
    Corey began making bacon and eggs. “How old are you, Peter?”
    “Five and a half,” he replied, pulling up a chair.
    “Big for your age, aren’t you?”
    “No, I don’t think so. Everybody in my kindergarten class is about my size.” He turned toward Stone. “What are we going to do today?”
    “Well, I saw some games over there on a shelf,” Stone replied. “There’s Monopoly and Scrabble and a couple of others, and you have your Gameboy.”
    “Can’t we go outside?”
    “Well, it’s real cold today, and it could rain or snow. Maybe we’d better stay inside, where it’s snug and warm.”
    “Okay.”
    Stone ate his eggs, counting the minutes until he could call Dino again.

42
    STONE CALLED his home number every hour to check for messages. Nothing for the whole morning. Then, at one o’clock: “It’s Dino. I haven’t been able to reach you for a couple of days. Call me when you get this.”
    Dino was playing it smart; he knew Lance might be listening in.
    Stone started to call him on the landline, then stopped. If Lance were listening on his home number, he might be listening on this line, too. All the agents, except Corey, were out of the house at the moment, and she was playing Parcheesi with Peter. Stone got out his cell phone and began walking around the large apartment, checking for a signal at every window.
    Finally, in the back bedroom, he got a one-bar signal. He called Dino.
    “Bacchetti.”
    “It’s Stone.”
    “You’re weak, can you speak up?”
    “No, I’m on my cell phone. What’s happening?”
    “Sometimes you’re brilliant, Stone. Not all that often, but…”
    “What is happening, Dino?”
    “We got three sets of prints. One of them, as you said, was government blocked. I ran the other two and came up with two names. One is a Martin Block, no record; he was printed in the army twenty years ago. The other is a Rocco Bocca, who got out of Sing-Sing just over a month ago.”
    “Did they send Mitteldorfer back to Sing-Sing?”
    “Yeah, I checked. I almost had them put him in solitary, but decided against it. He might be able to tip off Billy Bob.”
    “Have you found out anything about Bocca?”
    “You bet. He was doing five to seven on multiple burglary charges, served five and a half. And get this, he was working as a burglar alarm installer and hitting his clients.”
    “He’s our guy. You get an address?”
    “I got his parole officer’s name, but the guy is out of the office all day, and I couldn’t get a cell number. I left a message,