They were met by Rawls at the Jacksons’ gate. “Hey, Henry Lee.” He and Jackson shook hands warmly. “How you been?”

“Slogging toward the pension,” Henry Lee replied. “Nearly there.” He opened the gate with his iPhone.

“Let’s not split up,” Stone said. “If they’re here, I’d like us to outnumber them.”

The three men walked abreast toward the house.

“Let’s start with the barn,” Stone said, “since they’ve expressed an interest in that. Can you turn off the alarm, Henry Lee?”

“Sure.” He did so.

Rawls produced a small but powerful flashlight and played it over the barn doors as they approached. Once there, he played it over the hardware on the door. “A few scratches that look recent,” he said. “What’s in here?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Henry Lee replied.

“Tracey Hotchkiss cleaned up what was useful and got rid of the rest,” Stone said. “Billy says the boys wanted the contents, and I expect they’re pissed off about it.”

“Pissed off is not the state of mind I’d want them in,” Rawls said.

“What would you prefer?” Henry Lee asked.

“Fat, dumb, and happy.”

“I’m afraid you’re not going to get any of those wishes,” Stone said.

“Let’s check out the house,” Henry Lee said. He let them in through the front door and they looked around. “Looks untouched,” Stone said.

“Henry Lee,” Rawls said. “Can you tell if the security system has been tampered with?”

Henry Lee went to a keypad. “I can reset it, and it will give me messages.” He watched the screens flash by as tests were run.

“This is a new version, since I installed mine,” Ed said.

“That’s because you’re old, Ed,” Stone replied.

“I installed it last year.”

“Oh.”

The keypad made a chirping noise and displayed READY.

“One successful entry was made in our absence,” Henry Lee said. “About twenty minutes ago.”

“That’s about when I saw a flash of light from over here,” Rawls said.

“Let’s hope this visit satisfied the twins’ curiosity,” Stone remarked.

They got back in the car and returned to their dinner party, which was waning. Their guests soon went home.

17

Stone asked Primmy to stay on for another cognac, and she did. “We hardly got to talk at all,” he said.

“You’re right,” she replied. “Kindly explain your marital status to me.”

“I’m a widower.”

“Ahh.”

“And you?”

“Divorced twice, one recently.”

“I’m sorry, if you are,” Stone said.

“Not in the least. I have a history of attracting men who have expensive tastes and little money, and I’m always glad to see them go.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“Gentlemanly charm is a heady thing,” she said, “but I’ve discovered it’s more attractive when attached to an income.”

“I expect so. If it matters, I have a policy of not pursuing women who have more money than I.”