“You’re going to let a designer furnish the place?”

“Jesus, Stone, you think I give a shit about furniture? I told her, make it nice for the kid so the court will sign off on it. She’s going to get it painted, put in some new stuff in the kitchen and get the floors refinished. I’ll be in it in a month.”

“Dino, it’s New York; nothing happens in a month.”

“This designer lady is a real hard-ass; she’ll get it done. She’s already got her people lined up, and she gets paid more if it’s ready on time.”

“And you’re letting her pick out everything?”

“I picked out the TVs and the stereo and my chair for the den. The rest is up to her.”

“Good luck.”

“Listen, I’m a better judge of people than I am of furniture. Anyway, it’ll piss off Mary Ann if I’m in a really nice place, and I’ll enjoy that.”

They drove in silence until they got to the house and started unloading Dino’s bags.

“I just thought of something,” Dino said.

“What?”

“Hal Rhinehart.”

“What about him?”

“I heard a pretty good rumor one time from a guy on the organized crime task force that Rhinehart was doing some contract hit work, but they could never nail him.”

That stopped Stone in his tracks. “Why don’t you get on the phone and find out whether Rhinehart has jumped parole?”

20

DINO PUT THE PHONE DOWN. “Rhinehart must have a very smart lawyer; he did a deal that allows him to live up here and report in by phone every week.”

“Ankle bracelet?”

“I didn’t ask,” Dino said, “but he could be out of range up here.”

“Put your stuff in the guesthouse, then let’s go see Rhinehart.”

“You know where he lives?”

“No, but I know how to find out.”

THEY WENT BACK to the Dark Harbor Shop, and Stone led Dino to the rear office, where he rapped on the door. The man at the desk looked up.

“Hi,” Stone said, “I’m Stone Barrington, and this is Dino Bacchetti.”

The man stood up. “Jimmy Hotchkiss.”

“You’re Seth’s cousin, right?”

“Right, and you’re Dick’s cousin.”

“Right.”

“Take a seat.” Jimmy waved them to a pair of rickety chairs next to the desk.

“We were in here earlier and saw somebody we used to know,” Stone said.

“And who would that be?”

“His name is Harold Rhinehart.”

“Sure, I know Hal.”

“You know where he lives?”

“Yep. It’s about three miles north on the main road. You’ll see a sign: RHINEHART CABINETS.”

“He’s a cabinetmaker?”

“And his father before him. Hal took over the business when his old man died a few years back.”

“He grew up on the island?”