Page 16

Stefan Howard took one of the last open seats at the bar in P.

J.

Clarke’s and motioned for the bartender.

The guy held up a finger, indicating he’d be there soon, then returned to finishing the drink he was working on.

Normally, this might have annoyed Stefan.

He didn’t like being put on hold.

But today he was in a celebratory mood and was willing to overlook the slight.

“Good evening,” he said, turning to the woman next to him.

She was a looker.

Straight blond hair, plump lips, and sleepy blue eyes that were begging to be stared into.

She gave him a quick, tight-lipped smile, then turned to the woman on the other side of her.

“What the hell is your problem?” he muttered.

She made no sign that she’d heard him.

Which was just as well.

Getting into a tiff with a lowlife like her would be a waste of energy.

Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to ask her to join him for dinner.

He wouldn’t cheat on Sara like that.

The bartender finally came over.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, sir. What can I get you?”

“You have champagne?”

“We do. Veuve Clicquot. It’s by the bottle.”

“Oh.”

“We also have prosecco and cava by the glass.”

“Those are champagnes?”

“Sparkling wine. Taste like champagne without the label.”

“I’ve heard of prosecco, I think.”

“Shall I pour you a glass?”

“Why not?”

The bartender left to fetch his drink.

While he waited, Stefan pulled out his phone and opened his message app.

He glanced around to make sure no one else could see his screen, then tapped on the message he’d received that morning from Rudy Grove in Chicago.

No text, just a photo of Sara’s soon-to-be ex-husband, sprawled unconscious across a sidewalk.

Stefan grinned.

That’s what the jerk got for messing with his girl.

“Your prosecco, sir,” the bartender said, setting the glass down in front of him.

Stefan quickly placed his phone screen down on the bar.

“Would you like to open a tab?”

“Sure.” Stefan handed him a stolen credit card he’d recently received from a buddy in L.

A.

It wouldn’t be long before someone caught on and froze the account, but he’d probably be able to get a few more days out of it.

The bartender’s gaze moved to someone behind Stefan.

“Good evening, Mr. Barrington. Knob Creek?”

Stefan tensed.

Did he mean Stone Barrington?

“Thank you, Wyatt, that would be great. And a glass of the Sancerre for my friend.”

“Right away.”

Stefan kept his gaze fixed on his prosecco.

The man behind him was definitely Stone Barrington.

He recognized the man’s voice from when he’d eavesdropped on him, Sara, and that guy named Herb.

Stefan felt the urge to turn and get a good look at him, but what if his “friend” was Sara?

Stefan was not ready for her to see him yet.

But more importantly, if Barrington was in a personal relationship with her, Stefan would have to deal with him like he’d dealt with Sara’s blind date and her second husband.

Best if he didn’t do anything that might cause Barrington to remember his face.

The bartender soon returned, and Stefan had to lean to the side so that the drinks could be passed by him.

“Thanks,” Barrington said.

Another voice spoke up behind Stefan.

“Mr. Barrington, your table is ready.”

“Perfect timing,” Barrington said.

“If you’ll follow me.”

Stefan kept his eyes on his glass until he was sure Barrington was gone, then waved the bartender down.

“Something’s come up and I have to close out.”

“No problem, sir. I’ll be right back.”

Stefan drank the prosecco in two gulps and was already standing when the bartender returned with the receipt and his card.

Since it wasn’t Stefan’s money, he added a generous tip, then moved to a spot where he could get a good look at the dining room.

Barrington’s companion was indeed a woman, but she was not Sara.

Instead of Sara’s brown curls, this woman’s hair was straight and black.

He couldn’t see her face, but he sensed she was older than Sara, too.

This should have pleased him, but instead he became indignant at the idea that Barrington was two-timing Sara.

His anger only grew as he made his way out of the restaurant and returned to his car.

Instead of going back to his hotel, he circled the area, waiting for Barrington to leave.

Tamlyn dabbed the corner of her mouth.

“That was excellent. I will absolutely be dining here again.”

“In my company, I hope,” Stone said.

“ If you play your cards right,” she said.

He raised his wineglass.

“Challenge accepted.”

She laughed, then tapped hers against his, and they drank.

“What’s taking you to England on Friday?” Tamlyn asked.

“Business?”

“Pleasure. A party.”

“Do you often fly to Europe for parties?”

“I don’t know about often, but when Dame Felicity invites you, it’s hard to say no.”

Tamlyn’s brow wrinkled.

“Dame Felicity? You don’t mean Dame Felicity Devonshire , do you?”

“The very same.”

“You’re friends with the head of MI6?”

“We’re neighbors, actually. Her country house is just across the river from Windward Hall.”

“Windward Hall?

“That’s the name of my country house.

That’s where we’ll be landing.

”

“You have your own runway?”

“Came with the house and has a bit of history. The British Royal Air Force commandeered the estate during World War Two and built the runway for use on covert missions.”

“You are full of surprises.”

“If you’re free Saturday night, I would love for you to come to the party with me as my guest.”

“I’ll check my schedule, but unless someone is dying, how can I say no?”

“The simple answer is you can’t.” He smiled.

“In fact, whenever you’re not tied up over the weekend, you are most welcome to stay at Windward Hall, too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Soon they were ensconced in the back of Stone’s Bentley, pulling into traffic.

“I don’t suppose I could talk you out of going back to work,” Stone said.

“I still owe you a nightcap.”

“Two times we’ve had dinner, and two times you’ve suggested drinks at your house after. I’m starting to think that’s your go-to move.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“That’s a would-if-I-could. There is much I must get done before you whisk me away on Friday.”

“Have you considered working from bed?”

“I would hope I wouldn’t get the chance.”

“I can’t fault that logic.”

“Then I’ll take a rain check for tonight, if you’re handing them out.”

“I’ll make an exception for you.”

She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Fred,” Stone said toward his factotum.

“We’ll be dropping Ms. Thompson off at Strategic Services headquarters.”

“Understood, sir,” Fred said.

After Fred made a couple of turns, he glanced in the rearview mirror and frowned.

“Mr. Barrington.”

“Yes?”

“I believe we’ve picked up a tail.”

Stone started to turn so he could look out the back window.

“Don’t,” Tamlyn said.

From her purse, she pulled out a round compact, opened it, then held the mirror so that both she and Stone could use it to see behind them.

“I take it this isn’t the first time you’ve had this happen?” Stone asked.

“I may have picked up a few tips here and there. One of the benefits of being part of the security industry most of my career.”

“Fred, which vehicle is it?” Stone asked.

“Our lane, two cars back. The Ford Taurus.”

With another vehicle between them and the Ford, Stone could only catch shadowy glimpses of the person behind the wheel.

The driver appeared to be a man, and he seemed to be alone.

“I don’t suppose you’ve had time to make any enemies here yet,” Stone said to Tamlyn.

“Perhaps someone who thought they should have been given your job?”

“Not that I’m aware of, though Mike or Viv would know better than me. What about you? Anyone who’d want to keep tabs on your movements?”

Fred made a noise that turned into a cough.

“Pardon me. Something caught in my throat.”

Tamlyn turned a suspicious eye toward Stone.

“There might have been one or two in the past,” he said.

“But no one at the moment of whom I’m aware.”

“Interesting.”

“Sir,” Fred said.

“Would you like me to keep pretending we’re not onto them? Or would you prefer me to lose them?”

“Were you able to note the license number?”

“I tried, but it was too dirty to make out.”

“Like he obscured it on purpose?” Tamlyn asked.

“That would be my guess, Miss Thompson.”

“We could pull to the curb, let him pass by, then pull behind him and see if his back plate is readable,” she suggested.

Stone thought about it for a moment, then shook his head.

“I’d rather whoever it is not know where we’re dropping you off,” he said.

“Fred?”

“Very good, sir. Then please forgive any sudden movements.”

At the next intersection, Fred made a quick right, then sped to the end of the block and turned left.

After randomly switching streets for several minutes, he said, “He’s gone, sir.”

“Thank you, Fred.”

Tamlyn leaned forward.

“That was very impressive. If you ever consider looking for a new position, I’m sure Mike and Viv would love to have you join Strategic Services.”

“That’s very kind of you to say, Miss Thompson,” Fred said.

“But I’m very content with my current employment.”

“Why thank you, Fred,” Stone said, then smiled at Tamlyn.

“I feel obligated to point out that both Mike and Viv have attempted to snatch Fred from me, but to no avail.”

Still leaning forward, Tamlyn said to Fred, “If you ever change your mind, you know who to call.”

“I do,” Fred replied.

“Mr. Freeman and Mrs. Bacchetti have said the same.”

Stefan craned his neck to see around the cars in front of him and cursed.

Barrington’s Bentley was gone.

Stefan swung into the right lane so he could take the next turn, then laid on the horn when the taxi he was behind stopped to let out its passenger.

“Move it!” he yelled.

The cabbie gave him the finger and took his sweet time pulling back into traffic.

Stefan blasted his horn again as he sped through the space the taxi had been occupying, then whipped around the corner.

He scanned the cars ahead.

No Bentley anywhere.

He slammed his fist against the steering wheel.

Barrington must have known he was being followed and had been worried that Sara would find out he was with another woman.

That had to be it, Stefan thought.

“What a scumbag,” he muttered.

Something had to be done with Barrington.

Something bad.

Stefan smiled.

He knew just the guy who could make that happen.