“If you can know that, others can, too.”

“That’s very astute of you, Pablo, and all the more reason for you and your family to be guarded as soon as possible.”

“I don’t want to name my location on the phone,” Pablo said.

“All right, e-mail me, and give me your phone number.”

“I’ll text your cell,” Pablo replied.

“They need to know exactly where you are: an address.”

“I’ll meet them somewhere. I want to see them before I let them near my family.”

“Pablo, Strategic Services is a world leader in personal security. I know the CEO well, and I recommended them to the Agency. You can trust them.”

“I still want to meet them somewhere, and I’d like for you to be there, too. I don’t believe I’ve used up the retainer I paid you.”

“Pablo, give me a hint where you’d like to meet.”

“All right. Litchfield County, Connecticut.”

“Good. I have a house there, and that’s where we’ll meet.”

“All right.”

Stone gave him the address of his house.

“I know a house called The Rocks. Is that it?”

“Next door, much smaller house; used to be the gatehouse for The Rocks.”

“What time?”

“I have to drive up from New York. Noon?”

“All right.”

“Pablo, are you armed?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t shoot at anybody.”

“You arrive first, then the others.”

“That’s good. Now, give me your cell number.”

“There’s no point. That area is a dead zone for cells.”

Stone sighed. “See you at noon tomorrow.” They both hung up.

“You’re going up to Connecticut?” Willa asked.

“Yes. Would you like to come?”

“Yes,” she replied.

Stone called Mike Freeman.

“Freeman.”

“It’s Stone. Pablo called, and we can meet him at noon tomorrow at my house in Washington, Connecticut.”

“Good. Where is it?”

Stone gave him the address. “He wants me to arrive first, then the others. I suggest you have all four of your cars wait at the filling station in Washington Depot.”

“All right,” Mike said. “By the way, Lance has provided us with a safe house. It’s on Lake Waramaug, in Litchfield County. Do you know it?”

“Yes. Is it Lance’s brother’s house?”

“That’s right. Do you know him?”

“He was a client for a while.”

“He’s away, but there’s a housekeeper.”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mike said.

“Do you want to ride with me?”

“Sure.”

“Where do you live?”

“The Dakota; Seventy-second and Central Park West.”

“I’ll see you at ten a.m.” They hung up.

“Such intrigue!” Willa said, snuggling up.

Stone stopped in front of the Dakota, a huge apartment house built late in the 1880s, and Mike Freeman came out carrying an overnight bag. Stone popped the trunk, Willa got in the rear seat, and Mike got in up front.

“Go,” he said.

Stone went.

“How long a drive?”