Shakeup (Stone Barrington #55) - Stuart Woods Page 0,1

behind him. He spotted only one familiar face, and before he could remember the name, the speech ended, and Holly was given a very appropriate standing ovation. Then they slowly followed her back to the car, as she shook every hand along the path.

* * *

—

Holly was late to the White House luncheon given to honor her, because she wanted to sign a dozen executive orders and her appointment letters to her cabinet. She may have been, she said, the first president to have named them all before the inauguration.

* * *

—

After lunch, back in the family quarters, Holly gave Stone his first real kiss of the day, and it was welcome.

“Now,” she said. “I have to take a nap, if possible, and then dress for the balls tonight. You should do the same, then come back here in the car provided.”

“I shall do so,” Stone said, kissing her again, then departed for the Hay-Adams. He had about four hours to get that done.

* * *

—

Stone inserted the key card into the lock on his suite’s door, and let himself in. He hung his coat and hat in the closet by the door, then turned and walked from the vestibule into the living room of his suite. There, sprawled before him on the floor, lit by the sunlight streaming into the room, lay a female, fully dressed and, when he put his fingers to her throat, apparently dead.

“Good God, Stone!” a voice behind him said.

He turned and looked at Dino, who had spoken, and his wife.

“What have you done?” Viv asked.

“Don’t point that thing at me!” Stone said, throwing up his hands in mock terror.

2

Viv walked over to the woman and felt for her pulse. “Nonresponsive,” she said, “and she’s cool to the touch.”

Stone walked to the desk and picked up the telephone.

“Stop!!!” Dino yelled. “Don’t touch that!”

“I was going to call 911.”

“Do you want the place flooded with EMTs and cops, or do want this handled discretely, so you won’t have to answer a lot of questions at each inaugural ball?”

“Your way,” Stone said.

Dino looked up a number on his iPhone and called it. “This is Dino Bacchetti,” he said. “Urgent.” He tapped his foot impatiently while he waited. “Deb, Dino. Fine, you? Good. I’m at the scene of a high-profile apparent homicide that needs to be handled discretely. At the Hay-Adams. In my suite, which Viv and I share with Stone Barrington. None of us. We returned from the inauguration to find her on the floor of our living room. Unknown to any of us. Undetermined, pending the arrival of the ME.” He gave her the suite number. “Send them up no more than two at a time, a minute or two apart. Have the gurney brought up on the service elevator; it’s a few steps away. You don’t have to, but it couldn’t hurt. See you shortly.” He hung up. “That was Deborah Myers, chief of the Washington, D.C., police department. She’s coming herself with others. Viv, will you stand by the door and admit people with the proper IDs? No maids or other hotel employees. Stone, you come with me.”

They went into Stone’s bedroom and Dino closed the door. “Tell me what you didn’t tell me when we walked in.”

“Nothing,” Stone replied.

“If there’s anything else I should know, tell me now.”

“I’d be happy to do that, Dino, if there were anything. This isn’t my first homicide, remember?” They had worked more than a hundred together on the NYPD.

They heard the doorbell ring and went back into the living room. A woman in civvies was hugging Viv, while a police sergeant, about six feet five, built like a pro linebacker, and very handsome, stood there and looked around the room for threats.

Stone and Myers were introduced, and he was impressed.

“Okay,” she said to Stone, conversationally, “tell me your story.”

“I don’t have a story, so I’ll just give you the facts.” He did so.

“Have you ever fucked her?” Myers asked.

“I’d have to see her naked, to tell you that.”

“Don’t be a smart-ass, Stone. Have you ever fucked her?”

“Not that I recall,” he said.

“Have you ever so much as met her?”

“Not that I recall. It’s been a long time since I’ve met a lot of people lying dead in hotel suites.”

“Stone and I were partners two hundred years ago,” Dino said. “We worked homicide.”

Another knock at the door, and Viv admitted two men: an impossibly youthful man, carrying a satchel, and a middle-aged one wearing a ski parka over