“Okay. I’d better make some calls and get your security set up. You won’t notice them when they arrive, but I’ll give you a number to call, if you want to speak to the team leader.”

“Ready to copy.”

“His name is Rob Poulter—ex–Special Air Service and MI5.” He dictated the number.

“Got it. You can give him my cell number.”

Stone looked up to find Gala standing in his doorway.

“I guess Lance had another motive for stopping by,” she said.

“Yes, he did, and I thought it a good idea to have some eyes on the estate for a while.”

“I think so, too.”

Stone thanked Mike and hung up. “I’m glad you’re okay with it. They will be unobtrusive, won’t be in the house unless we require it.”

“I’m glad they won’t be in the bedroom,” she said.

—

They had dinner and were getting undressed when Stone’s cell phone rang. “Yes?”

“This is Rob Poulter. Is this Mr. Barrington?”

“It is.”

“I just wanted you to know that we’re on station.”

“I asked the kitchen to leave a pot of coffee on and some sandwiches in the fridge. The back door will be unlocked.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind, but we have some packed food. The hot coffee will be good, though. If we have an alert, I’ll ring your number once, then hang up.”

“All right.”

“And I’ll do the same as an all-clear.”

“Got it. I’m glad you’re here, Rob.”

“Good night, Mr. Barrington.”

“Good night, Rob.”

39

They made love for a while, then fell asleep in each other’s arms. Stone was awakened by a noise, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He moved over in bed and discovered that his arm had grown numb from being under Gala’s neck. He got up and went to the bathroom, massaging the arm, and gradually it came back to life. He was on his way back to bed when he figured out that the noise he had heard was his cell phone ringing. Once.

He found his pants and took the iPhone from the holster it lived in. There was one recent call. Then he remembered that one ring was an alert from Rob Poulter, and that another was cancellation of the alert. He had not heard the second ring. He took the phone into the bathroom, closed the door, and rang back Rob’s number.

“Poulter.”

“It’s Barrington. What’s up?”

“I have a man down on your dock.”

“How bad?”

“Unconscious—apparent blow to the head.”

“Did you bag anybody?”

“We’ve started a search. I’ve called for more men.”

“Do you need transport for your man to a hospital?”