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by Stuart Woods

“I’m very well, thanks to a friend of yours.”

  “Who and why?”

  “Billy Barnett, as he is now known, and he saved me from having a long piece of sharp steel driven into my back.” Ed filled in the details.

  “You are a very fortunate man to have that man come along at just the right moment.”

  “I am very aware of that,” Ed said, “but I’m worried about Billy.”

  “I heard from Peter what happened to his wife.”

  “Perhaps you haven’t heard what’s happened since?”

  “Please tell me.”

  Ed brought him up to date.

  “Well,” Stone said, “I tend to think that Billy would be more inclined to take Susannah’s advice over yours.”

  “That had crossed my mind. Stone, it’s been a while since you’ve visited me in Santa Fe. I think the news that you were coming might cause Billy to stay on for a bit, and perhaps together we might slow him down, or perhaps even keep him out of prison.”

  “Have I ever told you how Billy saved the lives of my son, Peter, and Dino’s son, Ben?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’ll tell you over dinner tonight,” Stone said. “Sit on Billy until I get there.”

  “Call me an hour out, and I’ll meet you at the airport.”

  “See you then.” Both men hung up.

  • • •

  STONE BUZZED JOAN.

  “Yes, boss?”

  “Please call Jet Aviation at Teterboro and ask them to have my airplane on the ramp in an hour, fueled to the gills, and cancel anything I might have on the books for the next week. And ask Fred to have the car out in fifteen minutes.”

  “May I ask where you’re going?”

  “To Santa Fe. A little vacation.”

  “Consider it done.”

  Stone hung up and went upstairs to pack.

  3

  AS STONE TOUCHED down at Santa Fe Airport and rolled out, he saw an unfamiliar SUV parked on the ramp. He taxied in and was directed to a parking spot near the car, where Ed Eagle was leaning against it.

  Stone shut down, waited for chocks, then went down the boarding ladder and closed and locked the cabin door behind him.

  Ed took Stone’s hand in his more massive one. “I’m glad to see you,” he said.

  “What’s this?” Stone asked, indicating the car.

  “It’s the new Bentley Bentayga,” Ed replied. “First one in Santa Fe.”

  “What does Bentayga mean?”

  “I’ve no idea. I’m not sure that Bentley does.”

  A lineman put Stone’s luggage into the trunk, and both men got into the car.

  “Very nice,” Stone said, fondling the quilted leather upholstery.

  “Lots of legroom,” Ed replied. “A personal requirement.” He started the car and was let out of the gate.

  “How’s Billy?”

  “Placid, on the surface. Boiling underneath and deeply, deeply depressed.”

  “That’s a dangerous combination with someone like Billy,” Stone observed. “What can we do about it?”

  “I don’t know—a woman?”

  “I think, at this stage, that would be both inappropriate and unadvisable.”

  “She can be yours, then.”

  “Who can be mine?”

  “The friend of Susannah’s who’s invited to dinner tonight, name of Anastasia Bounine, said to be the great-great-granddaughter of Tsar Nicholas the Second and great-granddaughter of her namesake, the tsar’s only surviving daughter.”

  “You’re kidding me,” Stone said.

  “Maybe somebody up the line is kidding all of us, but that’s the scuttlebutt on the lady. Story is, the original Anastasia took up with General Sergei Pavlovich Bounine, who squired her around Paris trying to get her accepted by the tsar’s mother. They had a son, who had a son, et cetera, et cetera.”

  “I thought Anastasia’s remains were found with the others in a well in Siberia, or someplace.”

  “It’s said that one set of bones was missing, and the rest is history, sort of.”

  “So you’ve fixed me up with a Russian? I can’t tell you the trouble I’ve had with Russians, Ed.”

  “I know all about that, but you can rest easy. Ana, as she’s called, is third-generation French and came to this country as a small child. She’s indistinguishable from an American—or from a Frenchwoman, or a Russian, if she feels like it. Swears like a sailor, when she’s mad, and in three languages.”

  “What does she do with herself when she’s not swearing?”

  “She’s the queen—or should I say tsarina—of Santa Fe real estate. Year in, year out, she’s said to sell more houses than anybody else in town.”

  “So the first thing she’s going to do is try to sell me a house.”

  “Ana is more subtle than that,” Ed replied. “She’ll wait for you to bring it up.”

  “She could grow old waiting for me to bring it up. Lately, I’ve been selling, not buying.”

  “I know, I handled the presidential sale, remember?”

  “Of course.” Stone had, in a complicated transaction, exchanged his Santa Fe house for the Presidents Lee’s Georgetown house, then donated that to the State Department as a residence for the secretary of state, Holly Barker, who was his old friend and lover.

  “I never asked,” Ed said. “Why’d you do that deal?”

  “When Kate Lee nominated Holly,” Stone said, “she was living in an apartment over an antiques shop. It was unsuitable for a secretary of state, who has to entertain a lot.”

  Ed laughed. “I think you just wanted a comfortable place to screw a cabinet member.”

  “A particular cabinet member,” Stone said.

  “Why don’t you just marry her? It’d be cheaper.”

  “Our lives are totally incompatible, except for short, intense periods when we find ourselves in the same city.”

  “Whatever you say.” Ed pulled into his driveway, past a large stone eagle that identified the house, and a houseman in a white jacket came out and took Stone’s luggage.

  “You’re in the big guest room,” Ed said.

  “Is Billy in the guesthouse?”

  “No, he prefers to be at the Inn of the Anasazi. We didn’t insist.”

  Susannah threw her arms around Stone and kissed him on the ear. “Too long!” she said.

  “You should come to New York more often,” Stone replied, kissing her back.

  “Has Ed told you about your dinner partner this evening?”

  “He has, and I’m terrified.”

  “Well, I could put you next to Theo Raven, who’s in her eighties.”

  “She sounds safer.”

  “I didn’t want Billy to feel threatened,” Susannah said. “Come, let’s get a drink.”

  • • •

  THEY GOT A DRINK and watched the sky change colors as the day latened.

  “Susannah,” Stone said, “what are you doing with yourself?”

  “Polishing a screenplay,” she said. “I’ll be shopping it around soon.”

  “In addition to writing and producing, will you direct and star?”

  “Who else would hire me at my age?” Susannah was in her early forties. “Haven’t you heard that Hollywood doesn’t create desirable roles for women my age?”

  “I have heard that, yes.”

  “What I’d like to do is steal Billy Barnett away from your son. He’d take a huge load off my hands.”

  “As he does for Peter,” Stone replied. “I don’t think Billy’s looking to make a move. He’s too well situated at Centurion. You’d better look farther afield.”

  “It wouldn’t work,” Ed said. “Susannah has trust issues. She wouldn’t hire me to produce her pictures.”

  “I woul
dn’t hire you, my love, because you are ignorant of the process. I’m looking for someone with a track record, and yours is too much involved with getting guilty people off.”

  “None of my clients are guilty,” Ed said, “just misunderstood.”

  They were still arguing about that when Teddy arrived.

  4

  SUSANNAH GOT TEDDY a drink, then went to check on dinner, leaving the men alone.

  “How are you, Billy?” Stone said.

  “I’ve been better, but I’ve been worse, too.”

  “I’m sorry for your trouble.”

  “Thank you, Stone. I’m looking for something to occupy my mind for a few weeks.”

  “What did you have in mind?” Ed asked.

  “Revenge,” Teddy said quietly.

  Before Stone could explore that, Susannah returned with a beautiful woman, somewhat younger than her. Tall and with what, to Stone, appeared to be natural blond hair. He’d been fooled before.

  “Stone,” Susannah said, “this is our friend and neighbor Anastasia Bounine.” Anastasia received a drink, and sat down next to Stone on a comfortable love seat. The size of the furniture guaranteed proximity. “Please call me Ana,” she said.

  “Ana it is.”

  “I’ve heard so much about you, Stone.”

  “Uh-oh,” Stone replied.

  “Your reputation precedes you.”

  “I was afraid of that.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve heard nothing but good. I understand that Santa Fe has you to thank for bringing the Presidents Lee to town in their retirement.”

  “I believe they’re already here,” Stone said, “though I’m not sure they’re in town.”

  “They’re not,” Ed said, “or they’d be coming to dinner tonight. I hear their house is about finished, though, and they’ll be coming soon to inspect the designer’s work. Not that it needed a lot of work when you sold it.”

  “Or when I bought it,” Stone said. “The previous owner had done a good job.”

  “Most of the work was done on the neighboring house,” Ana said, “converting it to house the Secret Service. They had to add four bedrooms.”

  “Ana always knows exactly what’s going on with Santa Fe real estate,” Ed said. “It’s her career.”

  “It’s fun,” Ana corrected him. “Much more than a career, a serious pastime. I know, for instance, that when Stone’s predecessor owned the house, Stone was required to shoot a three-hundred-and-fifty-pound bear in her kitchen.”

  “I thought that was a closely held secret,” Stone said.

  “In Santa Fe?” she asked. “Surely you jest.”

  Theo Raven arrived, and shortly after that Susannah was seating them at her dinner table.

  • • •

  A GOOD THREE HOURS later Stone, Ed, and Teddy were once again alone together, this time in Ed’s study.

  “Billy,” Stone said, “what was that about revenge?”

  “I’m sure Ed has brought you up to date on the difficulties involved with seeking justice from the woman who killed my wife.”

  “He has.”

  “Have you thought of any legal avenue worth pursuing, Stone? I’m sure you’ve thought it over.”

  “I have, Billy, and I haven’t come up with anything. Mr. Baxter has effectively cut off both the criminal and civil paths.”

  “That’s what Ed had given me to understand, and I trust his judgment.”

  “Now, about that revenge, Billy,” Stone said.

  “Are you sure you want to know? Either of you?”

  Ed looked at Stone. “I certainly want to know—though I emphasize that I don’t want to know, if you take my meaning.”

  “I take your meaning,” Stone said, “and I share it.”

  “All right,” Teddy said. “Dax Baxter is coming to Santa Fe to shoot a film out at the movie ranch.”

  “And?” Ed asked.

  “And the film company is hiring. They get a tax break from the state for using local people. It’s said to be a four-week shoot here, before they return to L.A. to shoot interiors. I thought I might go out there and put in an application.”

  “For what job?” Stone asked.

  “I can do, and have done, anything and everything on a film set. Baxter will be bringing his key people with him, but I thought I might go for something like an assistant production manager. Not too high up the tree, but useful. It would look good for the company to have a local in such a position.”

  “I’m sorry, Billy,” Stone said, “but when did you get to be a local?”

  “This afternoon,” Teddy said.

  “You became a local in an afternoon?”

  “I’ve rented a little house, furnished. My story is, I just blew in from New York, where I worked in television and film. I have a couple of references there from people I’ve worked with in the past.”

  “You can’t use your own name,” Ed said.

  “I’ve had a lot of identities in my time,” Teddy said. “I’ll dust one of them off.”

  “Billy,” Stone said, “I hope you’re not contemplating harming Baxter.”

  “Well, not in the sense that you might think, but there are lots of ways to get in the way of a man producing a film on location.”

  “What did you have in mind?” Ed asked.

  “I’ll improvise,” Teddy said, shrugging. “Perhaps an opportunity will present itself.”

  The ladies joined them, and the conversation took a different turn.

  • • •

  ANA RESUMED HER SEAT next to Stone. “How long will you be in town?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Stone replied. “Perhaps a day or two, perhaps longer.”

  “Will you come to my house for dinner tomorrow evening? I live just up the path to the left, through the trees.”

  “I’d like that,” Stone replied.

  “Do you eat beef?”

  “With both hands.”

  “Then the menu is settled. Other things remain to be seen.”

  “I’ll look forward to exploring them,” Stone said.

  “Exploration is fun, isn’t it?”

  “It certainly can be.”

  “Have you ever experienced the night sky in Santa Fe from a hot tub?” she asked.

  “I have, but only once.”

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  “It was a wonderful experience.”

  “Did you bring a swimsuit with you?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Oh, good.”

  5

  STONE STARED UP at the wildly starred sky, the view made all the better because he was looking over Ana’s shoulder as she faced him. The lights of Tesuque were just below and those of Santa Fe farther to the south. A sliver of moon did not challenge the Milky Way in its splendor, and the burble of the hot tub’s jets added a sound track.

  “Everything all right?” Ana whispered in his ear.

  “I was just thinking I don’t know how things could be better.”

  “Have you boiled long enough?” she asked.

  “I believe I’m about medium done.”

  “Well, the one thing this spa doesn’t have is a built-in bar, so why don’t we go inside and see if we can locate a bottle of cognac?”

  “A worthy notion, even if I have to move.”

  “I could bring you a snifter here,” she said.

  “You’d probably find me floating facedown when you returned, so why don’t we select the first option?”

  She disconnected herself from him, and he stood up, watching her shining body as she walked up the spa’s steps to where they had left towels and robes. She handed him both as he emerged, and he toweled his hair, then got into the thick terry robe and his slippers and followed her into the master bedroom, where they
had left their clothes.

  “You stretch out and relax, and I’ll get the brandy.”

  “What a good idea,” he said, lying on the bed and using the remote control to raise his head a bit.

  A jazz trio floated from the sound system and relaxed him even further. Ana returned a moment later with a bottle and two snifters and poured them both one before she got into bed beside him and adjusted the height to match his.

  “How do you feel?” she asked.

  “I believe I’ve somehow achieved an almost liquid state.”

  “The brandy should do the rest, then.”

  He took a sip. “I think you’re right. Isn’t this about the point where you should sell me a house?”

  She laughed.

  “I’d be helpless to refuse you anything.”

  “Well, I do have a couple of suitable things in mind. The problem is, neither of them could match the house you’ve just sold the Presidents Lee.”

  “I try never to go backward,” he replied.

  “You live in New York?”

  “I am a resident of that state and city, and I have the tax returns to prove it.”

  “Do you have a place anywhere else, where you can get away?”

  “I have a place in Dark Harbor, Maine,” he said.

  “Is that all?”

  “Well, there’s a house in Paris and a small estate in the South of England.”

  “Anything else?” she snorted.

  “Oh, and a place in Los Angeles.”

  “Where?”

  “In L.A. at the Arrington, up Stone Canyon.”

  “You keep a room there?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Please explain to me how you come to have a house at the Arrington. I didn’t know anybody did.”

  “Arrington Carter Calder, for whom the hotels are named, was my wife. My late wife.”

  “She was Vance Calder’s widow, was she not?”

  “Yes. She inherited a large parcel of land that he had accumulated over several decades, and where he had built his home. I inherited it from her, and with some friends as investors, we built the hotel, incorporating Vance’s house as the reception area and main restaurant. When I sold the land to the group, I retained the right to build a house on the property, to be built at their expense and to my specifications. I use it, perhaps, half a dozen times a year, when I have business in L.A. Or pleasure.”

 

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