Stone Barrington 27 - Doing Hard Time

each other’s logbooks, and Teddy began to get excited. The Mirage had had only a hundred hours on it when the conversion to turboprop took place, and only twenty-two hours since. He put down the bag and walked back to the l82.
    “Satisfied?” Strunk asked.
    “It’s a very nice airplane,” he said.
    “Let me make you an offer,” Strunk said, scratching his head. “You give me your airplane and half a million dollars cash, and you’ve got yourself a brand-new, almost, JetPROP.”
    “Any liens on it?” Teddy asked.
    “None. I pay cash for everything. Tell you what, if you haven’t got the half million in cash, I’ll give you a short-term loan with a balloon in a year—give you time to arrange financing.”
    “I pay cash for everything, too,” Teddy said, “but I’ve only got four hundred grand on me.”
    Strunk laughed loudly. “On you?”
    “In a deposit box not half a mile from here,” Teddy said.
    “I hadn’t reckoned on that big a bath,” Strunk replied.
    “It’s the best I can do,” Teddy said. “Or you can take a bus back to Las Vegas and send somebody over here to fly your JetPROP back to you. After seeing that landing, I don’t think you ought to do it yourself.”
    Strunk held out his hand. “You go get your four hundred grand,” he said, “and we’ll download some paperwork from the Internet and make it official.”
    And so the deal was done. Two hours later, after a title search and the signing of a bill of sale and the relevant FAA documents, Strunk started the engine of the 182 RG, raced down the airstrip, and headed west.
    Teddy climbed into his new JetPROP and looked at the panel. It had the latest Garmin 1000, three-screen system; it was just beautiful.
    Teddy found the operator’s and avionics manuals in the rear of the airplane, went back into the filling station, settled into the leather armchair, and turned his photographic memory to the memorization of everything. He paused once, to close the filling station, then went back to reading. As darkness arrived, he closed the manuals, locked up, and walked across the road to where Sally was waiting with his dinner and a bottle of bourbon.
    “I bought me a new airplane,” he said to her as he took the first bite of her meat loaf.
    Sally sighed. “Well,” she said, “I guess that means you’ll be moving on, Billy.”
    He nodded silently and sipped his bourbon.
    “You know,” she said, “you’ve never talked about your past, but I think it must be one hell of a past.”
    “You won’t get an argument from me about that,” Teddy said.
    “And I expect that’s all you’ll say about it.”
    Teddy nodded.
    “I sort of thought you might be on the run from somebody or something. Maybe robbed a bank.”
    “We’re all on the run from something,” Teddy said. “But I’ve never robbed anybody.”
    Sally put the dishes away. “Well, come on to bed, honey, and I’ll give you a real send-off.”
    And she did.

Stone and Dino were having a late-afternoon drink on the terrace beside the pool when they heard the beeping of a car horn, and a moment later, Peter, Ben, and Hattie appeared, looking mildly disheveled. Hugs, kisses, and greetings were exchanged by all, and the kids took a seat.
    The butler appeared. “May I get you all something to drink?”
    The kids ordered beers.
    “And what luggage do you wish unloaded?” the butler asked.
    “Everything in the boot of the car,” Peter replied. “We’ll sort out which rooms later. Don’t even open the trailer. We’ll have to figure that out later.”
    The butler disappeared and a steward materialized with the beers, which were quickly depleted and replaced.
    “So,” said Stone, when they had quenched their initial thirst, “tell us about the trip.”
    “It was fabulous,” Hattie said.
    “It was long,” Ben interjected.
    “It was very interesting,” Peter said.
    His father knew from experience that Peter’s use of “very” was not hyperbole. The young man used the language precisely, not like a student. “Tell me about the interesting part,” Stone said.
    Peter took another swig of the beer and burped. “We were followed,” he said.
    “By what? Gangs of teenaged girls?”
    “Well, of course, but more than that—by Russians.”
    Stone and Dino both sat up straight.
    Peter told them about the dot in the rearview mirror and their attempts to lose it. “Finally,” he said, “when we had the blowout and made it into this wide place in the road