Shoot First (A Stone Barrington Novel)

“You talked me into it, but I’ll have to go home and get a steak.”

“Mary will find something that meets your requirements.”

Mary came into the living room, wiping her hands on her apron. “I heard that,” she said. “What’s your pleasure, Mr. Rawls?”

“I’m easily pleased,” Rawls replied.

“How about a nice crown roast of lamb?”

“Sold, thank you very much.”

“Dinner’s in an hour,” she said, then went back to her kitchen.

Stone poured them another drink, while they waited.



* * *





THAT NIGHT, in bed, Meg said, “I’d like to go back to New York tomorrow, if that’s convenient for you. I still have to look at apartments, and I’m not through shopping.”

“You’ve had enough of Maine?”

“Well, let’s see, pursuit, gunfight, and fatalities, not to mention the fog.”

Stone laughed. “Your reasons are good enough. We’ll have a good breakfast, and I’ll call for the light plane to come get us. We’ll be at my house by noon.”

“I like the sound of that,” she said.

“In the meantime, let’s see what we can do to take your mind off Maine.” He dove under the covers and did what he could to amuse her.



* * *





THE FOLLOWING MORNING they loaded their luggage and the dogs into the Cessna and took off for Rockland. The fog was gone, and they had a glittering Maine day for their flight.

Fred awaited at the airport, and Stone took the shotgun seat, leaving the broad rear seat for Meg and the puppies.

Joan greeted everybody as they got out of the car, while Fred took their bags upstairs. “And how are my dogs?” Joan cried, kneeling to greet them. She received many kisses.

“Anything to attend to in the office?” Stone asked.

“Always,” Joan replied.

“I’ll go call your friend Margo and talk apartments with her,” Meg said.

Stone went into his office and sat down at his desk. “What’s up?”

“Are you and Meg still being hunted?” Joan asked.

“The hunters became prey and are out of the picture, their remains in the custody of the Maine State Police.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Joan said, plopping a stack of mail and messages onto his desk. “Now, you play with that for a while, then we’ll talk responses.”





27




Gino Bellini sat in his New York living room and tried Dirty Joe’s cell number again. This time, a man answered.

“Hello?”

“Joe, this is Gino Bellini.”

“Hey.”

“You sound funny.”

“Well, Mr. Bellini, that’s because I’m not Joe Cross.”

“Who is this?”

The man repeated a phone number. “Is that the number you’re calling from?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Green. I’m a lieutenant with the Maine State Police. How are you acquainted with Mr. Cross?”

Gino’s mind was racing. Joe had gotten himself arrested. “Oh, we’re just acquaintances,” he replied. He checked his recent calls. “Actually, he called me, and I was returning his call.”

“It’s important that you and I sit down together for a few minutes,” the lieutenant said.

“I’m in New York,” Gino said.

“Then I’ll come to you. Would this afternoon be convenient?”

“Lieutenant, I’d hate for you to make a trip to New York for nothing. Why don’t we just talk now? Is Mr. Cross in some kind of trouble?”

“Well, I guess you could say that. He’s dead. So is his wife or girlfriend. Can you straighten me out on their relationship?”

“I’m afraid not,” Gino said. “Were they sick or something?”

“No, sir, they were shot.”

Gino felt relieved. “I’m sorry to hear that. Have you made an arrest?”

“Oh, there won’t be an arrest. They were shot while trying to shoot someone else. Are you acquainted with someone called Meg Harmon?”

Gino wasn’t going to start lying now. “Yes, but I haven’t seen her for months.”

“What is your relationship to Ms. Harmon?”

“We used to work together. She made me a rich man, and I’m very grateful to her.”

“Do you know where she is at the moment?”

“No, but she lives in San Francisco, or did the last I heard.”

“Are you acquainted with a gentleman named Stone Barrington?”

“No, I’ve never heard that name.”

“May I have your address, Mr. Bellini?”

Gino gave him the New York address.

“If I should happen to be in New York soon, may I stop by to see you?”

“Normally, yes, but I expect to be traveling a lot for a while. I’m really just stopping here for a few days to get over jet lag. I’ve just come from London.”

“Do you have another address, Mr. Bellini?”

Gino gave him his San Francisco address.

“And your e-mail address?”

Gino gave him that.

“Do you have Mr. Cross’s address?”

“I believe he lives somewhere in the Florida Keys. I haven’t seen him for many years.”

“And how did you first make his acquaintance?”

“In high school.”

“Can you think of any reason why Mr. Cross would have your business card in his wallet?”

“What business card?”

“At Harmony Software?”

“I used to work there, but the company was sold last year. Oh, I remember now—I ran into Joe Cross at the airport, and I gave him my card. That must have been two, three years ago.”

“Have you seen him or spoken with him since?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s kind of odd. I’m speaking to you on his cell phone, and he called your number half a dozen times over the past few weeks.”

“As I said, I’ve been out of the country, and I didn’t take the phone with me, and there weren’t any voice mails from him when I got back.”

“When did you get back?”

“Yesterday,” Gino lied.

“He called this number three days ago.”

“I wasn’t here then. Lieutenant, I’m afraid you’re going to have to excuse me. I have an appointment I have to keep.”

“All right, Mr. Bellini. I’ll be in touch.”

“Anything I can do,” Gino said. “Goodbye.” He hung up, and he was sweating.

“That didn’t sound good,” Veronica said.

“It was somebody from the Maine State Police. Joe and Jane are dead, shot by somebody while they were trying to shoot Miss Meg.”

“Oh, shit. How’d they trace him to you?”

“They have his cell phone, and there were calls to me on it. You heard my answer to that.”

“You think we’re in the clear?” she asked.

“If we weren’t, they wouldn’t be calling—they’d be pounding on the door.”

“Still, that’s too close for comfort. Maybe you should lose that cell phone, Gino, and get another one with a new number. The Apple Store is just a few blocks away.”

“Then let’s get over there,” Gino said, rising.



* * *





STONE’S PHONE BUZZED. “A Lieutenant Green on the phone, from Maine.”

Stone picked it up. “Hello, Lieutenant.”

“Mr. Barrington, I thought you’d like to know that we’ve got Joe Cross’s cell phone, and he made some calls to a man named Gino Bellini.”

“That’s the gentleman who would be the suspect for hiring Cross,” Stone said. “He’s pursuing Meg Harmon.”

“Have you got any evidence to connect him with Cross?”

“Let me put it this way—Gino Bellini has a hot grudge against Meg. He believes she cheated him in a business deal, which is nonsense.”

“So we’d have her testimony of hard feelings between them?”

“Right.”

“But nothing to connect Bellini with hiring Joe Cross to kill her?”

“Nothing that I’m aware of.”

“Well, I’m going to stay on this at my end. I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know if anything arises on your end that could help us make a case against Bellini.”

“I’ll certainly do that,” Stone replied. The two men said goodbye and hung up.





28




Stone had cleared his mail and messages and was about to join Meg for a drink, when there was a soft knock on his door. He looked up to find Lance Cabot standing there.

“Joan is away from her desk,” Lance said. “I hope I’m not intruding.”