“You better be careful with Ed. He hasn’t fired at anybody yet, but he’s waved that shotgun around a couple of times when people turned up at his gate by mistake.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. What about the Old Farts? Are they still around?”

“Ed’s the last man standing. The others kicked off—one, two, three. Heart attacks, strokes, you know. Of course, the first one was murdered.”

“I remember.”

“Come see us when you get in.”

“Thanks, Jimmy.” They said goodbye and hung up.

“Sounds like old age and loneliness have made Ed become a little unhinged,” Holly said.

“Possibly. Sounds to me like Ed is feeling threatened.”

“Paranoia?”

“It’s not paranoia if somebody’s after you.”

“So, are we going to abandon Santa Fe for Maine?”

“Santa Fe is looking a little less hospitable than when we got here,” Stone said. “That strong case is attracting too much attention.”

“Are you sure it’s not just paranoia?”

“We’ve been followed, and someone broke into the house last night. What else has to happen before you start to feel a little paranoia?”

“I guess that’s enough,” Holly said. “When do we leave?”

“Get packed,” Stone said. “I have to repair that window, then we’re out of here. You know what I wish we’d done?”

“What?”

“Brought Bob with us.”

“You mean the killer Labrador retriever?”

“I mean the noisy dog.”

—

STONE CALLED JOAN and informed her of his change of location.

“You sick of Santa Fe already?”

“No, I just have a hankering for Maine. Pack up Bob’s things and ask Fred to meet me with him at the airport in Oxford, Connecticut.” He looked at his wristwatch. “In about six hours. Also, please call Seth and Mary and tell them we’ll be two for dinner this evening, then staying on for a while. Ask Seth to call the airport in Rockland and get me a ride to Islesboro and ask them if they have hangar space for the Citation for a week or so.” They went over some business for a few minutes, then he hung up. “I’d better go fix the window,” he said.

—

THEY TOOK OFF from Santa Fe with a stiff tailwind and made it to Oxford, Connecticut, in a little over three hours.

“Why here?” Holly asked as they taxied in to the FBO.

“Less hassle than in Teterboro, quicker in and out. Also, whoever has been interested in us could be tracking our flight on the Internet, so from here, we’ll fly VFR and set the transponder to twelve hundred. If they’re watching, they won’t be able to distinguish us from a lot of smaller airplanes.”

“But we’ll have to stay under eighteen thousand feet.”

“Right, but it’s less than an hour to Rockland.”