Stuart Woods_Stone Barrington 12

lead into the shop. He could do most of the talking, too, and it was just as well, given the size of the lump in Stone’s throat brought on by the scent of sawed wood.
    A tall man near the front of the shop switched off his machine when he saw them enter. He pulled off his earmuffs and let the goggles fall to his neck as he walked slowly toward them. “This way,” he said, beckoning. He led the way into a spacious office containing an old rolltop desk and a large drawing table. Rolls of plans protruded from pigeonholes next to the desk. He pointed to a pair of nicely built chairs, and they sat down.
    â€œRemember us?” Dino asked.
    Rhinehart nodded but didn’t speak.
    â€œWonder why we’re here?”
    â€œYes, I do,” he said slowly. His voice was deep. “I didn’t think we had any further business.”
    â€œLooks like we do,” Dino said. “There’ve been a bunch of burglaries.”
    â€œIn Camden and Rockland? I knew the state cops would get around to me sooner or later, but why is the NYPD interested?”
    â€œYour parole officer wants to know if you’re involved, Hal,” Stone said.
    Rhinehart shook his head. “I haven’t been off the island since I got back here. I’m confined to it, according to my agreement with my parole officer. I can’t get on the ferry, unless I have his permission, and I’ve made a point of not leaving.”
    â€œDo you own a boat?” Dino asked.
    â€œYes, my father’s, but it’s been laid up in a shed since he died.”
    â€œDo you own a gun?”
    â€œMy father had a deer rifle. It’s locked in a case over at the house, and it hasn’t been fired since he got sick.”
    â€œYou know Dick Stone’s house?” Stone asked.
    â€œSure, I do; my dad and I built the study, the kitchen and the dressing rooms. Why?”
    â€œI recall that you once did some other work, besides burglary,” Dino said. “Something more specialized.”
    â€œI don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rhinehart said.
    â€œVito Thomasini, shot in his bed,” Dino said. “Edgar Bromfield, shot on his front doorstep from a roof across the street.”
    â€œI’ve heard of Thomasini. Who hasn’t? Never heard of Bromfield, and I was nowhere near either of them when they were killed.”
    â€œIf you’ve never heard of Bromfield, why do you know you were nowhere near him when he was shot?” Stone asked.
    â€œI mean, I heard of him, when I saw it in the papers, but I never laid eyes on the guy.”
    â€œNot even through a scope?” Dino asked.
    â€œListen, if there’d been the slightest evidence against me for those killings, you guys would have been all over me at the time. Why are you asking about Dick Stone? You think I killed him, too?”
    â€œDid you?” Stone asked.
    â€œOf course not. I liked the guy, and he paid us well for our work. I had no motive to kill him.”
    â€œSometimes, all the motive you need is a phone call and some cash,” Dino pointed out. “It’s not as though you have a conscience about these things.”
    â€œLook, I stole a lot of jewelry, cash and other stuff, but I’ve never killed anybody.”
    â€œFunny how you have this reputation, then,” Dino said.
    â€œI don’t believe I do. Anyway, the only people who know I’m even on this island are those who live here, the state cops and my parole officer. Nobody I ever knew in that old life has ever even heard of Islesboro.”
    â€œYou’re in the phone book,” Stone said.
    â€œThe cabinet shop is; I’m not. I’m dug in here. I’ve got a wife and a kid and a fine business; I don’t need to steal from people or kill them for money. Go talk to my banker.”
    â€œI believe you,” Stone said.
    Dino looked at him as if he were crazy.
    â€œI don’t think anybody who built that study for Dick Stone, who knew him, could kill him.”
    â€œThank you,” Rhinehart said.
    â€œLet’s go, Dino,” Stone said, standing up.
    â€œYou really think we’re done here?” Dino asked. They were all on their feet now.
    â€œWhat’s your interest in Dick Stone?” Rhinehart asked, as they moved back into the shop and toward the front door.
    â€œHe was my first cousin.”
    â€œI see.”
    Stone looked around the shop. “My father was