Moses shook his head. “Looked like they searched the whole downstairs. Drawers turned out; books pulled off the shelves. Made a right mess of things. I’ll show you.” He retrieved his rifle, led them inside, and turned on the light.
The house was not what Stone had expected. Gone were the layers of dust and the faint smell of mold. The polished wood floor shone brightly and the walls and ceilings were free of cobwebs.
“I done my best to keep things in good order,” Moses said. “Pappy got to where he couldn’t do much, but I’ve mostly got it set right. I haven’t got to the upstairs yet. I even got your Scout running nice and smooth. I hope you don’t mind, but I take it out from time to time. It ain’t good for the engine and tires if it just sits.”
“You’re right about that. I appreciate you taking care of it in my absence.” Stone’s Indian Scout motorcycle had been his pride and joy during his college years. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to take it for a spin.
“You like to tinker?” Alex asked Moses.
“Sure do.”
Alex clapped Moses on the shoulder. “You and I are going to get along just fine.”
Stone raised his hand to silence them. A thought had just occurred to him.
“Moses, how do you know the intruder’s not still here?”
“I done checked.”
“How about the upstairs? Did you look there?”
Moses’ eyes went wide. “I didn’t think of it, what with all the rooms being closed off and all. There ain’t nothing up there.”
“He doesn’t know that. I think I should check it out.” Stone thought for a moment. “If he’s upstairs, he’ll have heard us arrive. You two wander around down here for a minute, and then go back outside. Keep talking the whole time, loud enough for him to hear, but try to make it sound natural.”
“Child’s play. I’m no stranger to the theater,” Alex said. He and Moses began discussing the break-in in raised voices and headed back toward the kitchen.
Webley at the ready, Stone crept up the stairs, hoping his weight would not cause the old boards to creak and give him away. He paused when he reached the first landing. The light through the window shone on a single set of footprints in the dust on the steps leading upstairs. No prints led down. Of course, that didn’t mean the intruder hadn’t exited by way of the back staircase, but someone had definitely been here.
The footprints vanished in the darkness as Stone reached the second floor. Craning his head to the side, he strained to listen for any sound that would indicate the intruder’s presence. He waited, the thrum of his heartbeat the only sound. Perhaps the man, whoever he was, had gone.
His eyes gradually adjusting to the dark, Stone stepped out into the second-floor hallway and turned to his right. He’d check the rooms just to be safe. As his hand closed around the closest doorknob, something moved behind him. He whirled about and dropped to one knee as the world erupted in a muzzle flash and the thunder of a gunshot.
4- Trinity
Stone didn’t flinch as the bullet whizzed past him. He returned fire, aiming for the spot where he’d seen the muzzle flash. He followed with two shots, one to either side, in quick succession. He guessed right with the third shot. A man’s voice cried out in pain, and footsteps thudded down the hallway away from him.
Silhouetted against the floor-to-ceiling window at the end of the hall, the man’s short, thick outline identified him as the same goon who had attacked Stone at the attorney’s office. Hand pressed to his side, the man staggered as he ran.
Stone dashed after him, but his swift feet were not sufficient to close the gap before, with a loud crash, the goon smashed through the window and plunged into the darkness. He scarcely had time to cry out before he hit the ground with a thud. Reaching the window, Stone looked down at his quarry, hoping the fellow was still alive, so Stone could question him, but Stone could immediately tell that the fall had done him in. The man lay on the grass, his head twisted at a severe angle, limbs splayed out. He’d tell no secrets.
By the time Stone descended the stairs and reached the spot where the intruder had fallen, Alex and Moses knelt over the man, Alex’s face twisted in disgust, Moses’ expression unreadable.
“Who is he?” Alex whispered.
“That’s what I hope to find out.” Stone searched the corpse, patting it down and rifling through the man’s pockets. He found only a few spare bullets and a single coin.
“This is odd.” He held the coin up, letting the moonlight glint off its worn surface.
“Is that a doubloon?” Alex asked.
“Perhaps. It’s unlike any I’ve seen before.” Despite its wear, he could clearly make out the markings on the coin’s surface. One side featured a warrior in an ornate headdress; the reverse, a sunburst behind a pyramid. “It’s quite old, but it doesn’t appear to be Spanish. In fact, it’s primitive-looking. See how the edges aren’t crisp?” He turned the coin around so Alex and Moses could see.
“There’s no date,” Alex observed.
“No value on it, either,” Moses added.
Stone nodded and pocketed the coin. “That’s just one mystery.”
“True. We still don’t know who the man is or what he wanted.” Alex looked up, as if the answer lay in the sky.
“Killing Mister Brock is what he wanted. Ain’t that obvious?” Moses asked.
“Moses, if you can’t bring yourself to call me Brock, at least call me Stone. Whatever else you do, lose the Mister. We’re friends.”
Moses shifted uncomfortably but didn’t argue.
“There’s another mystery to unravel.” Stone rose to his feet. “This man planted a listening device on the window of the attorney’s office. If he was either listening or recording it, where is the other piece of the device?”
“Perhaps he only planted the bug, and someone in another building was listening in?” Alex suggested.
Stone shook his head. “I’ve seen this type of unit before. The range is too limited for that.”
“He had to get himself here somehow,” Moses said. “Might be he left it inside his car.”
“When I last saw him, he was leaving in a cab. Of course, that doesn’t mean he didn’t retrieve his own vehicle and drive here. Would you mind scouting around?”
Moses agreed. He propped his rifle on his shoulder and disappeared into the darkness.
Alex gave Stone a long, level look.
“There’s something else on your mind. What is it?”
Just then, twin beams sliced through the damp night. Stone sprang to his feet and drew his Webley. Who would come here this late in the evening, or at all for that matter? His grandfather hadn’t entertained guests in ages.
“Put your gun away,” Alex said. “I recognize the car.”
“Who is it?”
Alex thrust his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Don’t be sore, but I told her you were back,” he said in a rush. “The way you left things with her, I thought you two should talk.”
“I don’t have anything to say to her right now. But you and I are going to have a serious talk later.”
The driver parked the car behind Alex’s DeSoto and cut the engine. A woman stepped out and closed the door behind her.
The years had been good to Trinity Paige. She had realized the promise of beauty that had been evident in her youth. Stone had seen her at his parents’ funeral, of course, but she had changed since them in some indefinable way. Gone was the girlish quality she’d retained well into her twenties, replaced by an air of self-assurance that Stone found striking. Suddenly, he was no longer angry with Alex for inviting her here.