Near Miss

Stone woke the next morning feeling more tired than he had when he’d gone to sleep. In response to Holly Barker’s call the previous evening, Carly had seemed determined to prove that there were more reasons for the president to stay away than just the Russians.

She had made her point, multiple times, much to Stone’s pleasure at the time and chagrin now. Thankfully, he was alone in the bed, so there seemed no immediate threat of another demonstration.

He showered, dressed, and headed down for breakfast, expecting to find Carly there, but the dining room was empty.

He found Helene in the kitchen. “Have you seen Carly?”

“She wanted me to tell you she had a meeting at the office and would be back at lunchtime.”

“She didn’t leave alone, did she?”

“Fred took her. And before you ask, she also said to tell you she was carrying.”

That was a relief.

“Would you like your breakfast now?”

“Yes, please.”

Stone ate and then made his way to his office. He had it in his mind to call Ed Rawls and tell him he’d reconsidered, and would appreciate it if he came back to the States to watch Stone’s back. He had just sat down when Joan walked in, carrying a box covered in gold-and-black wrapping paper and matching ribbon.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“A present for you,” she said.

“From whom?”

“Unknown. There was no card, and the man who delivered it didn’t know, either. Would you like me to open it?”

“Please.”

She set it down, untied the ribbon, and peeled back the wrapping. She used a pair of scissors to open the box underneath.

“Oh,” she said, peering inside.

“Oh good, or oh bad?”

Joan reached into the box and pulled out a desk clock, housed in mahogany. “This is beautiful,” she said. “I think it’s handmade.”

She set it on the desk and Stone looked it over. It was exquisite. The kind of clock that would cost several thousand dollars. While clients often sent him tokens of gratitude, few were of this caliber, and he could think of no current client who had reason to gift him in this way.

Joan looked back into the box and pulled out an envelope. “Ah, I guess there is a card.”

She handed it to Stone. He opened it and pulled out a brochure for a mortuary. On the front was taped a note that read: Best to get your affairs in order sooner than later. There was no signature.

“That doesn’t look like a card,” Joan said.

“Because it’s not.” He turned it so she could see.

“I wasn’t aware we had a mortuary as a client.”

“As far as I know, we don’t.”

“Then why would they send you this?”

“I doubt they had anything to do with it,” Stone said. “This is from someone trying to send me a message.”

“What message?”

“Something about time, and how little of it I have left.”

“That’s presumptuous.”

“Get Dino on the line.”

She started to leave.

“Joan?” he called before she reached the door.

When she looked back, he pointed at the clock and the box, then motioned for her to take them out and put them somewhere far from either of their offices. It was possible the clock was just a clock and the box just a box, but he would feel better after Mike Freeman’s people checked them both for hidden devices.

Joan put the clock back in the box and carried it out.

A couple minutes later, she stuck her head into the office. “Dino on one.”

“And the box?”

“In the garden shed.”

Stone picked up the phone. “I just received an interesting package.”

“Another stiff, like yesterday?”

“No stiff. Just an expensive clock and a brochure for the Dalby Family Mortuary.”

“I hear they do good work.”

“That makes me feel so much better,” Stone said. “There was a note with the brochure.” He read it to Dino.

“Sounds like someone thinks you won’t be breathing for much longer.”

“One guess who that would be.”

“The Russians,” Dino said, “by way of the Sarge, most likely. Am I close?”

“You got it in one.”

“What I don’t get is if they’re planning to kill you, why send you messages like Greco’s corpse and this fancy clock, instead of just doing it?”

“Aside from the fact that I’m glad they are taking their time, I think they were at first trying to scare me. Now, they may be attempting to get me to do something.”

“Other than to avail yourself of the Dalby Family’s services?”

“Other than that.”

“Like what?”

“Ask for Ed Rawls’s help.”

“That makes sense. Easier to kill you if you’re together.”

Stone had been close to doing just that.

“Maybe I should issue an APB for the Sarge,” Dino said, “as a person of interest in Peter Greco’s murder.”

“He’d never let himself get caught.”

“No, but he’d have to be more cautious. No more freely moving around.”

That was true. “Good idea.”

“I have them on occasion.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Joan peeked her head into the room. “Ed Rawls on two.”

“I’ll let you two bond over your shared destiny,” Dino said, and hung up.

Stone switched to the other line. “Hello, Ed. Everything all right?”