Stone’s face fell. “Not what’s-his-name!”

“One and the same.”

“How did . . . Never mind, I think I know how he tracked you.”

“How?”

“My airplane. There’s an app that will allow you to follow any aircraft’s track across the country. He would have tracked us to Santa Fe, then here.”

“He has an airplane, too—a Learjet.”

“What’s his tail number?”

She told him.

Stone got on his iPhone and tracked the number. “It’s at Teterboro, at Jet Aviation, where I park.”

“He usually goes somewhere else on the field—Atlantic Aviation, I think.”

“Not this time. He thinks he has us in his crosshairs, but he doesn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re leaving tomorrow on the Strategic Services jet, a Gulfstream 650, and he won’t be expecting that. He’ll end up just watching their hangar, where I keep my airplane, until he gets tired of it. We’ll be in England before he figures it out.” He picked up the phone and called Mike Freeman at Strategic Services.

“You ready for your flight tomorrow, Stone?”

“I am, Mike. Would you let your pilot know that we’d like to board in the hangar, before the airplane is towed out?”

“Sure. Somebody tailing you?”

“Probably a couple of Russian gentlemen.”

“I’ll see what I can do about that.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that. Will you be flying with us tomorrow?”

“Me and Viv Bacchetti. We have business in Paris and Rome.”

“Why don’t you stop by my place for a couple of days, since we’re landing there anyway.”

“Wish I could, but duty calls. Maybe on the way back, if you’re there long enough. We’ll be on the continent for a week to ten days. One of our stops is attending the opening of the new Arrington, in Rome. Will you be coming down for that?”

“It’s a thought. Let’s see how it goes.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow.” He hung up.

“We’ll board tomorrow in the hangar, protecting us from prying eyes. My friend Mike Freeman is coming with us, and so is Viv Bacchetti, who works for him.”

“How nice. Oh, and here’s a little something for you.” She handed him a gift-wrapped package.

Stone untied the ribbon and opened it. “Wow! That will hold a whole bottle!” He walked to the bar, opened a new bottle of Knob Creek, found a little silver funnel and filled the flask. “Perfect!” He gave her a big kiss.

“I thought it was you.”

“And you were right.” He set the flask in his briefcase. “Come on, you haven’t had the tour yet.”

He showed her the living room, dining room, and his study, then took her up to the master suite, where Fred had already deposited her luggage in her dressing room.

“What are we doing for dinner tonight?”

“I think we’ll have it here, in my study, just the two of us.”