June 6.
He connected the dots. “It’s definitely not nothing.”
Then he glanced back.
Bozin waved goodbye and he returned the gesture with a smile. He then climbed into his car and started the engine but took a moment and looked beyond Bozin at Jon De Florio.
Who, through the open front door, watched everything.
8:45P.M.
CHRIS SAT IN THE DEN AND LISTENED ASDEFLORIO REPORTED WHAThe’d learned so far about Reed and the list. He absorbed the necessary details for what he had in mind, his face betraying nothing, his words a lie.
“When I hadn’t heard anything from you,” he said, “I decided to ask Reed here to see what I could personally find out. Hank and I have always been able to talk in the past.”
“Did you learn anything?”
He shook his head. “He never mentioned anything remotely connected with the list.” Then he feigned disappointment but was actually pleased. Questions had to be swirling in De Florio’s inquisitive mind. Especially one. Why was the new kid on the block also here? Intentionally, he’d offered nothing on that subject. Instead, he asked, “What are you going to do now?”
“Maintain surveillance. Perhaps even step it up some. Until we know the extent of this, we have to keep a close eye on Reed.”
“I agree.” He hoped De Florio would expend all his resources there. He needed some freedom to finish what he’d started. “Have Hamilton and Larry been informed?”
“I’ll leave that to you.”
He was not naïve enough to think that De Florio had not already talked with Lee, but he played along. “I’ll take care of that in the morning.”
De Florio rose from the chair. “Is there anything else you need from me tonight?”
He stood too. But immediately winced in pain, grabbing his abdomen, catching his breath.
De Florio reached out to help. “Are you all right?”
A couple of deep breaths and he gathered himself. “I’m fine. Really.” He steadied himself, then stood straight. “It’s nothing. Just a small medical problem I’ve had to deal with lately. Nothing serious. That’ll be all. Thank you.”
“You want me to call a doctor?”
“That won’t be necessary.” He sucked a few more deep breaths. “Are you staying at the lodge or in one of the guesthouses?”
“I have one of the guesthouses.”
“I know where to reach you then.”
De Florio excused himself and left through the front door.
He’d actually been having a fairly good day with the pain. Only during the last hour or so had that changed. He still could have easily kept the discomfort to himself, God knows he’d suffered through enough practice, but he’d intentionally not. Hopefully, the message did not go unnoticed by the messenger.
He crept up the stairs one step at a time. The chime from the grandfather clock in the foyer announced 9:00P.M.He could hear the staff tidying the kitchen and the dining room and knew they would switch off the remaining lights and lock up when finished.
Upstairs, he carefully undressed and slipped on his pajamas and robe. He brushed his teeth and, not yet ready for sleep, strolled outonto the balcony into the warm night, the cedar deck damp from an earlier shower.
Crickets and frogs serenaded one another through the blackness. His house was in the extreme west corner of the property, away from the river and most of the other facilities. He liked the solitude. He also liked that his fellow shareholders were nowhere nearby.
De Florio’s appearance had been fortuitous. He assumed Lee was having him watched. He also assumed De Florio had recruited one of his house stewards as an accomplice, exactly why he’d arranged for the dinner here. But De Florio showing up and witnessing things firsthand seemed perfect. Lee and Hughes had obviously yet to find what he’d left. Before tonight, though, there really was no need to look. Once they did, he knew the situation would gestate rapidly. From that point on time would be short. He needed to be ready to move on a moment’s notice and finish what he started.
He angled his head toward the sky. A first quarter moon hung to the north, thin clouds swirling in slender fingers, veiling and unveiling the stars.
How much longer until relief?
