Shakeup
- Автор: Вудс Стюарт
- Серия: Stone Barrington #55
- Год: 2020
- Язык: английский
- Год: G. P. Putnam’s Sons
- ISBN: 978-0-593-18832-3
- Жанр: Триллеры
Электронная книга - «Shakeup». Краткое содержание книги:
As it turns out, the mastermind behind the malfeasance rocking New York City and the nation’s capital wields a heavy hand of influence. And when Stone is unable to recruit those closest to the case to his side, he is left with few leads and a handful of dead-ends. But with the help of important people in high places — and the expertise of alluring new friends — Stone is more than ready to rise to the occasion.
Fred knocked on the door. “The car is ready, Ms. Parks.”
Stone helped her close and latch the suitcase, and Fred took it away.
“It’s been more than fun,” Lara said, giving him a wet kiss.
“It sure has,” he said.
“Call me when you come to L.A.”
“By then, you’ll be a very big movie star and unavailable,” Stone replied.
“I’ll be sitting home alone every night.”
Stone walked her down to the garage and tucked her into the Bentley. As he walked back to his office, he could hear Helene upstairs, vacuuming.
27
Stone was halfway through a drink when the first Secret Service agent entered the restaurant and walked the length of the room and back, looking exactly like a Secret Service agent. Half the room was twigged, and the conversation level dropped by that much.
Holly walked in, wearing a full-length cape with a hood that partly concealed her face, and the restaurant-goers leapt to their feet and gave her a round of applause. So much for discretion. Two agents took up places with good views of the suspect diners.
Stone held her chair, and seated her with her back to the room. “Forgive me for not kissing you, but we would have made the papers,” she said, keeping the hood up.
“We’re going to make the papers anyway.” Stone sighed. “I’ll bet there’s already a mob outside the front door. You may as well give them a look at that gorgeous hair.”
She did so, and the room went, “Ahhhh.”
“They’re repositioning the cars,” she said. “Maybe that will throw them off.”
“I’ll give the agents a suggestion: when we’re ready to leave, I’ll have Fred pull up with the Bentley, while the photogs are camped next to your cars down the street. The cars will catch up, but it will be too late for the shutterbugs.”
“That could work,” she said, “once.”
“Then I’ll just have to keep being inventive.”
“Or come to Washington now and then.”
“Do you really think it would be any better there?”
“Well... Camp David could work, if we take separate helicopters.” She laughed.
“I’ll put that escape at the top of the list.”
Menus arrived and, at Holly’s suggestion, Stone ordered for both of them.
“I’ll gain ten pounds,” she said.
“Just eat a third of it. We’ll take the rest home, so we won’t have to go out tomorrow evening.”
“I’m afraid we’ve only got tonight,” Holly said. “Big jam-up in the Oval the morning after, and I have to direct traffic.”
“Tell me something that you can’t tell me about,” Stone said.
“I can’t tell you about that.”
“Of course not, that’s the point.”
“I’m a stickler for the rules. If I start leaking, it will become a trend.”
“How are Ham, Ginny, and Daisy?” he asked, speaking of her father, her stepmother, and her dog. “Or are they off-limits?”
“They’re not, as long as you don’t ask me where they are.”
“Where are they?”
“Visiting Ginny’s folks in Virginia. Dammit, you tricked me!”
“You’re easy.”
“More than you know,” she said. “Eat fast.”
Sometime during the night he woke up, and Holly was crying. Not bawling, but he could tell.
He kissed at her tears. “We can do this,” Stone said. “Let’s just enjoy what we can. Dinner with you is better than a dozen with Dino.”
“I hope I’m a better lover, too,” she said, wiping her eyes with the corner of a sheet.
“You’ll have to ask Viv about that. Is there anyone in the White House you can talk to? Anybody completely trustworthy?”
“There’s my secretary, Anna, who came with me from State, but she’s sixty-four and turns beet-red if I mention the word sex.”
“Then there’s just me,” he said. “There’s always the encrypted telephone.”
“Oh, I meant to tell you: the NSA tells me the Russians are trying to break in to that.”
“Swell. Do we know when?”
“The Russians never rest.”
“Go back to sleep,” he said, cuddling her.
She was up before dawn. He could hear her singing tunelessly in the shower, then he dozed off, only to be awakened by the hair dryer.
She came and sat on the bed. “I’m going to appoint a special committee at the National Security Council to come up with a list of secure places we can make love.”
“How about my place in Maine? There’s nobody there in the winter.”
“That would entail flying Air Force One to Boston, then boarding a U.S. Navy cruiser to somewhere off Southwest Harbor, then a Navy SEALs assault boat to your dock.”
“I’ll think again,” he said.
“You keep doing that.” She gave him a deep kiss and was gone.
He could hear the car doors slamming downstairs.
The bell on the dumbwaiter woke him again; breakfast was on its way up. Helene had not gotten the word; it was for two. He sent one back downstairs and took the other to the bed. He switched on the TV and the morning news showed Holly and Sam Meriwether walking past the Rose Garden and into the Oval Office, as if she had never left Washington.
Dino called. “You’re all over Page Six again,” he said.
“We can’t just have a quiet dinner in an Upper East Side restaurant anymore,” Stone said.
“Next time, you should have the management take the patrons’ cell phones as they enter.”
“It wouldn’t work,” Stone said. “A dishwasher, or somebody, would call us in for the standard fifty bucks.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“You know where Holly wanted to have dinner? P.J. Clarke’s. Can you imagine?”
“It would have been a zoo.”
“Worse. Somebody at a nearby table would have recorded our conversation.”
“Are you ever going to get used to this?”
“I doubt it,” Stone said. “Moving a president around is a big transportation challenge, and somebody will always notice. Holly suggested Camp David, if we each had a helicopter.”
Dino laughed. “You keep trying!” He hung up.
28
Stone was at his desk when Dino called a second time.
“What?”
“Interesting news,” Dino replied.
“Uh-oh.”
“Not that interesting. I ran Donald Clark through the system and his file was blocked, ‘For reasons of national security.’”
“A file block for the once and never secretary of commerce?”
“The intelligence people wield a heavy hand,” Dino replied.
“What a shame one of us doesn’t know somebody in that world.”
“Both of us do.” Stone was a personal adviser to Lance Cabot, the director of intelligence. “You want me to call him, or do you want to do it?” Stone asked.
“Lance likes you better.”
“Well, if you’re going to whine about it,” Stone said, “I’ll call him.”
“Let me know what he refuses to tell you.” Dino hung up.
Stone called Lance Cabot on his secure cell phone and was connected immediately. “Good morning, Stone. I trust last evening was a pleasant one.”
“You’ve been reading the trash news,” Stone replied.
“A rich source of intelligence,” Lance replied. “Whatever can I do for you?”
“You think that’s why I called? So you can do something for me?”
“You never call for any other reason, Stone.”
“Okay... Dino and I are taking a look into Donald Clark, and his personal file is blocked.”
“Blocked by whom?”
“By you, probably.”
“Why would I do a thing like that?” Lance asked, wounded.