The Stone Barrington Collection vol 2

The Stone Barrington Collection vol 2 by Stuart Woods

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Authors: Stuart Woods
Tags: Fiction, Mystery
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didn’t set the alarm system. By the way, the system isn’t monitored locally. If somebody set off a motion detector or something, an alarm at Langley would go off.”
    “Are there motion detectors?” Stone asked. “I hadn’t noticed.”
    “It’s why Dick didn’t have a dog. If you have a dog, it has to be highly trained, so you can forego the motion detectors. Otherwise, they have to be set high enough so that a dog won’t set them off, and intruders can duck under them.”
    “Dick sounds too careful to have made a mistake.”
    “Everybody does, eventually.”
    “Either that or he knew the person who killed him and let him into the house.”
    “That’s a disturbing thought, given where we are,” Rawls said. “It’s a tightly contained population.”
    “All it takes is one,” Stone said. He finished his coffee and went home.
    As he walked into the house, the phone was ringing. “Hello?”
    “It’s Dino. Can you meet me at the airport?”
    “What airport?”
    “The one on the fucking island, dummy. Half an hour.” Dino hung up.

19
    S TONE STOOD BESIDE the Islesboro airport landing strip and watched an airplane materialize in the sky to the south. It got larger fast, and a moment later a Pilatus PC12 set down just past the numbers, reversed its prop and taxied to the ramp. The lettering on the side said NEW YORK STATE POLICE . The airstair door swung down, and Dino stepped onto the tarmac carrying two bags. Somebody tossed him a briefcase, then the door closed, and the airplane taxied to the other end of the runway and took off again.
    “Jesus, why don’t you get an airplane like that?” Dino said.
    “Because it costs three million dollars,” Stone replied. “I’m thinking about having my Malibu Mirage converted to a turboprop, though, and upgrading the avionics. I can do that for half a million.”
    Dino put his bags into the rear of the station wagon and got into the passenger seat.
    Stone started the wagon. “So, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
    “This state cop was at the precinct and said he was flying up to Bar Harbor, so I asked if he could drop me here, and he did. What with the panic packing, I didn’t have time to call you. What’s happening?”
    As they drove into Dark Harbor, Stone brought Dino up to date on the threat against Dick as well as Ed Rawls and the Old Farts.
    “So now it’s an investigation by committee? Swell.”
    “They have sources of information I don’t,” Stone said. “By the way, did you come armed?”
    “Nope. I didn’t realize I’d be in danger.”
    “I guess I’ll have to borrow Rawls’s shotgun again.”
    “Whatever.”
    They stopped at the Dark Harbor Shop. “I have to get a Times ,” he said. “It gets here later than in the city.”
    Dino got out and came in with him, had a look around the shop. A slender man with blond hair and beard was having a cup of coffee, and Dino glanced at him.
    When they were back in the car, Dino said, “You saw the guy at the soda fountain, right?”
    “Sort of. You know him?”
    “Yeah, and so do you. We busted him for more than a hundred burglaries about seven, eight years ago, back when you were earning an honest living.”
    “Harold Rhinehart? That was him?”
    “Yeah. He has a beard now, and his hair is shorter, but that’s the guy.”
    “How much time did he get?”
    “He plead out for five to seven, which means he could have been out two and a half years ago, if he kept his nose clean in the joint and really impressed the parole board. You had any burglaries up here?”
    “Not that I’ve heard about, but I’ll ask Rawls; he seems to know everything that’s going on. Maybe Rhinehart took his ill-gotten gains and retired up here.”
    “I doubt it,” Dino said. “The guy was a pro, but he was obsessive about stealing. I don’t think there are any New York State parole officers on this island, either. If he got out in half his sentence, he should be reporting to a P.O. every

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