Stuart Woods_Stone Barrington 12

thermal scan.” He went into the office. A moment later he came out with some sheets of paper.
    â€œWhat is it?” Stone asked.
    â€œIt’s a report from one of our people who used to be a Boston cop. You remember, we checked to see if Caleb Stone had a criminal record? His boys, too.”
    â€œYes, and they were all clean. The report from the New Haven police and the Yale campus cops had the boys clean there.”
    â€œWell, this isn’t much,” Lance said, “but the boys had a juvenile record.”
    â€œFor what?”
    â€œDon’t know; the records are sealed.”
    â€œCan your man get at them?”
    Lance got up and walked back toward the office. “I’ll ask him to try.”
    Stone got up and followed him. “There’s something else I’d like to know from New Haven.”

47
    H OLLY CAME SLOWLY out of sleep, but being awake wasn’t much different. She wondered if he was giving her something to make her sleep; she seemed to be doing an awful lot of it. Not that she had anything else to do.
    He was giving her precious little sensory input. He came in four or five times a day, she thought. He emptied her, fed her another candy bar and gave her water. Maybe something in the water? She certainly had not felt wide-awake since the first day. How many days was it? Two? Three? Four? She couldn’t tell. The tape over her eyes kept her from knowing whether it was day or night, and the earplugs muffled most sound.
    He didn’t seem interested in sex; he hadn’t touched her in any way, except to pull her clothing down for the bedpan. He hadn’t found her gun, either, since the sweatshirt covered it, even when she was using the bedpan. If she could just get a hand free. She tried again, but it only hurt worse. Her wrists felt bruised and chafed from trying to get loose.
    Why would he keep her, hour after hour, day after day? What use would he make of her? If he wanted her dead, she’d already be dead; if he wanted sex, she’d have already been raped. It didn’t make any sense at all. She yawned and dozed off again.
    Â 
    LANCE CAME OUT OF Dick’s little office with a sheet of paper. “The FBI has come to life,” he said. “They’ve given us a profile, done by their experts.”
    Sergeant Young, who had seemed almost asleep, came to life. “I want to hear this.”
    â€œHe’s between twenty-five and forty,” Lance read, “lives with his mother, is employed as a skilled laborer or as a white-collar worker with considerable responsibility. His father is dead or was divorced from his mother when he was a child. He’s uncomfortable around women, especially those who dress in an overtly sexual manner. People who know him think of him as quiet and pleasant. He’s not married, nor does he have a regular sex life.”
    â€œThe dress code doesn’t sound like any of our victims,” Young said, “except Janey Harris, who wore the kind of clothes teenaged girls wear these days: you know, bare bellies almost to the crotch, tight T-shirts, that sort of thing. It certainly doesn’t fit the two housewives.”
    â€œIt doesn’t fit Holly, either,” Stone said. “Any more of the profile?”
    Lance shook his head. “They make the usual disclaimers about the accuracy of the profile, and they say they need more to go on.”
    â€œI wish to God we could give it to them,” Sergeant Young said.
    They all sat quietly for a few minutes.
    â€œAnybody want to go for a boat ride?” Stone asked.
    â€œWhat?” Dino said.
    â€œI’m going to take the picnic boat and circumnavigate the island, while there’s still plenty of daylight.”
    Sergeant Young stood up. “I’d better get back to the land search; I’m not doing any good here.”
    â€œHam, do you want to come?” Stone asked.
    Ham shook his head. “I want to stay here in case Holly turns up, and Ginny is still working on Esme’s diary.”
    â€œGrab a jacket, Dino,” Stone said. “It’ll be chillier on the water.”
    They met on the dock, and Stone started the engine. “Will you cast us off?” he said to Dino.
    Dino undid the bow, stern and spring lines, then pushed them away from the dock and jumped on board.
    â€œWe’ve got to get you some Topsiders,” Stone said.
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œWingtips don’t cut it on a