Stone Barrington 27 - Doing Hard Time

called Mesa Grande, the guy changing the tire made a discovery.” He rooted around in a pocket, came up with the device, and handed it to Stone, who handed it to Dino.
    “GPS tracker,” Dino said. “That explains why you couldn’t lose them.”
    “How did you find out they were Russian?” Stone asked.
    “We left the car with this guy at the filling station, who had to call the Porsche dealer in Albuquerque to order a replacement tire, then we took our bags across the road to the motel and checked in. We had dinner at the diner at the motel and went to bed, and the next morning, when we were loading our luggage back in the car, the filling station guy showed me that, said he found it in the wheel well when he changed the tire.”
    “Then why didn’t you see it when you put the temporary wheel on?”
    “He said it was covered in mud and dust from the road. That would have made us miss it. Then he told us that two Russian guys showed up in a black Lincoln Navigator, and they had the GPS tracking equipment and an antenna on their dashboard. They were talking about us in Russian.”
    “How would some pump jockey in a Podunk New Mexico town know what they were saying in Russian?” Stone asked. He was now getting concerned.
    Peter shrugged. “I don’t know, but this guy was no ordinary pump jockey, he was very smart. He told me his name was Billy Burnett, asked me your name, and said he had heard of you from somewhere.”
    “From where?” Stone asked.
    “He didn’t say, he just seemed familiar with you.”
    “Describe him.”
    “Late forties, five-nine or -ten, one seventy, unlined face, nice smile, short, thick, dark hair going gray, fit-looking, wiry, sort of. He had what I guess you’d call a desert tan, though he wasn’t all leathery like people get who are exposed to that kind of sun for a long time.”
    “Accent?”
    “Sort of local, I guess. He sounded like the other people we talked to in New Mexico.”
    “He was a local and he had a desert tan, but not for very long? And he knew me?”
    “Not knew you, exactly, but knew who you were.”
    “What did he say, exactly, about me?”
    “I don’t remember exactly what he said, I just got the impression that he knew who you were, not necessarily that he’d met you.”
    “Let’s get back to the Russians,” Dino said. “What happened to them?”
    “That’s the weirdest thing,” Peter said. “Billy Burnett said he’d had a word with them, and they turned around and headed back in the direction they came from, and that we wouldn’t be bothered by them again.” Peter shrugged. “And we weren’t bothered by them again.”
    “Okay, let’s summarize,” Stone said. “You’re tracked more than halfway across the country by two Russians in an SUV with pretty sophisticated equipment. They follow you to this Mesa Grande place, where they caught up with you, then this pump jockey has a word with them, and they turn around and go home. Is that it in a nutshell?”
    “In a nutshell,” Peter said.
    “Well, I don’t buy that,” Dino said.
    “Neither do I,” Stone echoed.
    “I’m not trying to sell it to you,” Peter said. “It’s just all I know.”
    “That doesn’t make any sense at all,” Dino said.
    “Did I say that it made sense?” Peter asked.
    Stone spoke up. “I’d like to meet this guy, this . . .”
    “Billy Burnett.”
    “Well, maybe you’ll get to. He said he might get to L.A. and I gave him my cell number.”
    “Peter,” Stone said, “if you hear from this guy, I want to know about it
immediately
.”
    “Okay, Dad, but don’t get the idea that he’s some kind of threat to us. He was extremely helpful, didn’t overcharge us, helped us out with the Russians, and I’m glad I met him.”
    “Nevertheless,” Stone said. He looked up to see Emma Tweed and an extremely tall, extremely beautiful young woman coming up the path from the old guesthouse. “Ah, here are our dinner guests,” he said. “Ben, you’re on deck.”
    “Huh?” Ben asked.
    “Look sharp, kid,” Dino said. “You’re about to meet somebody.”
    “None of us looks very sharp right now,” Peter said. “May we be excused to shower and change?”
    “Run before they get here,” Stone said, “and don’t be long.”
    The kids fled before Emma and Tessa reached the terrace.
    “Who was that?” Emma asked, as she pecked Stone on the cheek, “and why are they running?”
    “That’s Peter, Ben, and Hattie, and they’ve been