Stuart Woods_Stone Barrington 21

at the damnedest times.”
    “He’s going to be gone before I get to know him fully,” Stone said. “I want to spend some time with him in Maine this summer, teach him to sail. He already wants to learn to fly.”
    “Fly? He doesn’t even drive yet!”
    “Don’t worry, I’m not going to let him even take lessons until he’s at least eighteen. Once he starts at Yale, he’ll be too wrapped up in work to even think about it.”
    “I hope you’re right, though I think he has traits that will make him a good pilot. He’s organized and detail-oriented, and, of course, he learns with blinding speed.”
    “We’ve had only one flight in my Mustang, coming down here, and he seems already to have grasped the avionics pretty well.”
    “That’s the sort of thing he does.” She yawned. “I’m sleepy,” she said.
    “Then go to sleep.”
    “No making love?”
    “We’ll save it until the morning.”
    “All right.”
    “I have a date to go riding with Peter and Hattie at eight. Do you want to come?” he asked.
    “No, I’m going to sleep until lunchtime. That’ll give the staff time to make the house pristine again. I don’t want to see it until then.” She yawned again, then her breathing became regular.
    Stone was not far behind. He dreamed about Peter and Hattie and, maybe, a grandchild. Then there was something unpleasant, something shocking, but when he jerked awake he couldn’t remember what it was. It took him an unusually long time to get back to sleep, and when he awoke the following morning he was tired, as if he hadn’t slept at all.

50
    S tone showered, dressed, and went downstairs to the kitchen, where he sat, alone, at the long table and waited for his breakfast to be cooked. Then Peter and Hattie joined him and placed their orders.
    “Beautiful day outside,” Stone said.
    “Great day for riding,” Peter replied.
    Hattie was quiet.
    “Did you sleep well, Hattie?”
    “All right, I guess.”
    “Ready to greet the new day on horseback?”
    “Sure.”
    “Did you two have a good time at the party?” Stone asked.
    “Oh, yes,” Peter said. “But I knew hardly any of those people.”
    “Don’t worry, you won’t have to spend any time with them. I think your mother had the housewarming just so that they wouldn’t be angling for invitations to see the house.”
    “Get it all over at once, huh?” Peter said.
    “Right.”
    “Hattie, did you meet anyone you liked?”
    “Not really,” Hattie replied, “but I met someone I didn’t like.”
    “And who might that have been?”
    “That architect fellow.”
    “Ah, yes. I don’t think you’ll be seeing him again.”
    “Why? Did someone shoot him?”
    “Not yet,” Stone replied.
    Peter laughed. “Mom didn’t seem to be very happy to see him.”
    “Had you met him before?” Stone asked.
    “Just once. He came over when I was home from school last Easter to talk to Mom about how the house was going. I didn’t like him then, either.”
     
     
    They finished breakfast and left by the rear door to walk over to the stable. A groom had their horses saddled, and they mounted and walked down the trail through the woods, warming up the horses in the chill air before leaving the woods and cantering across the fields.
     
     
    Kelli Keane got out of bed and tiptoed, naked, into the bathroom and drew a hot tub for herself. David was out like a light, exhausted from the naughty workout she had given him at bedtime. She put her iPhone on the edge of the tub and eased into the hot water, then she turned on the phone and looked up the photographs she had taken at the party. These were too good for the Post , she thought; they’d never run more than one or two. Maybe she should query Vanity Fair for a piece. It couldn’t run until after the Architectural Digest spread had run, so there wouldn’t be any conflict with what David was doing. She needed something, though—a hook to hang the story on. The house wasn’t enough, “Widow of Vance Calder” wasn’t enough. Pity there hadn’t been a fistfight among the prominent guests, something like that.

    The three of them rode for nearly two hours, then pulled up under a tree and got down. Peter opened the picnic basket the kitchen had made for them and they had hot chocolate and cookies.
    Stone thought about asking Hattie to come up to Maine for the summer but stopped himself. He should let Peter issue that invitation.
     
     
    They remounted and started back toward the house,