Chapter 23
Several members of the house staff were waiting in the grand entrance hall to greet the mourners when Pryce entered. He made a beeline to the nearest member and asked for directions to a toilet.
The butler gestured to a hallway and said, “Down that way, first door to the left.”
“Thank you.”
Pryce fought to keep his pace normal when all he wanted to do was run. Once he finally reached the bathroom and had the door closed behind him, he plopped down on the toilet lid and expelled a relieved breath.
Until a few minutes ago, he’d had no news for Bronsky. The church service and that at her graveside had both gone off without Dame Felicity showing up alive.
But everything changed on the cart ride to the house.
He stared at the floor and replayed in his mind what he’d heard until he had it committed to memory. He then pulled out his phone.
Bronsky hadn’t given him his phone number, just an email address that Pryce was to use only if absolutely necessary.
Pryce was sure what he’d learned fit that bill.
He sent off an email, telling Bronsky to call him. Then he stood, thinking it would be a while before he’d hear back. But he’d only taken two steps toward the door when his phone vibrated, the caller ID blocked.
“Hello?” he answered, keeping his voice low so that no one outside the room could hear him.
“You can’t be home already,” Bronsky said. “My understanding is that Dame Felicity’s burial just finished.”
“It did, and I’m not. I’m in her house.”
“You’re what?”
“I’m in Dame Felicity’s house. There’s a reception and I—”
“Get out of there now! I’ll call you back in ten minutes.”
Bronsky hung up.
Pryce was not sure what he’d done wrong, but he knew an order when he heard it.
He headed back to the entrance hall and weaved his way around the guests who were making their way inside.
A golf cart had just dropped off an elderly couple. Before the driver could return to the church, Pryce flagged him down and jumped into the back.
After the short ride, he walked as quickly as he could to his sedan and hopped in. As he started the engine, his phone rang again.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Where are you now?” Bronsky asked.
“In my car.”
“Are you still on her property?”
“Yes.”
“Are you an idiot? Leave! I’ll call in five.”
When Bronsky called again, Pryce was a few miles north of Felicity’s estate.
“What is wrong with you?” the Russian said.
“Nothing,” Pryce said defensively.
Bronsky scoffed. “And you call yourself an intelligence agent.”
“I don’t, actually. I’m an ana—”
“Don’t you get it?” Bronsky snapped. “If I were Dame Felicity, I would have my whole house and property bugged.”
Pryce sucked in a breath. “I-I didn’t think about that.”
“She was the head of MI6, for God’s sake. You worked for her! Things like that should be obvious.”
“Technically, I didn’t work directly for—”
Bronsky swore in Russian, then in a slightly calmer voice said, “I take it you have news for me.”
“I do.” Thankful for the change in topic, Pryce relayed what he’d overheard.
Bronsky snorted. “You really think this man was talking to Dame Felicity?”
“I can’t say that for sure, but at one point, he did start to say her name but caught himself.”
“Oh, really? Did you happen to at least get his name?”
“Yes, of course. It was…” He stopped to think. “Stone something…um…”
“Barrington?” Bronsky said, his previously scornful tone replaced by disbelief.
“Yes! Barrington. That was it. Do you know him?”
There were several seconds of silence before Bronsky said, “Describe him.”
Pryce did as instructed.
“And he mentioned Key West?”
“Yes. I got the impression that’s where the person he was talking to was located.”
Another long silence, then, “Good work, Gordon. Very good work.”
For the first time all day, Pryce began to relax. Hopefully, this was the last thing he would need to do for the Russian.
“Go home,” Bronsky said. “But keep your phone close. I’m sure I’ll be calling you soon.”
And just like that, Pryce’s sense of relief disappeared.
When Pryce had revealed that there indeed was a good chance Dame Felicity had not been in the car when the bomb had gone off, Bronsky had wanted to throw his phone across the room.
That woman had more lives than a cat.
But Bronsky’s mood changed in an instant when Pryce told him upon whom he’d been eavesdropping.
Stone Barrington.
Though the Russian hadn’t heard that name in years, it was one he would never forget.
Back when Bronsky had been Russian intelligence’s London station chief, Barrington had helped thwart the plan to assassinate Felicity and other high-ranking British officials—the very same failed mission that precipitated Bronsky’s fall from grace.
Bronsky had made it a point to find out all he could about Barrington. Unfortunately, back then, revenge hadn’t been possible as the Russian was doing everything he could to keep from being thrown in prison.
It had been a long time since he’d read Barrington’s file, but he recalled that, at the time, the lawyer had owned multiple houses. If he was remembering correctly, one was located in the Florida Keys.
It would be easy enough to verify if that was still the case. And if so, it would be the perfect place for Felicity to lay low. At least, until now.
All Bronsky needed to do was send in a team to confirm her presence and finish the job the car bomb had failed to do.
After that was done, maybe he’d deliver a similar message to Barrington. Just to close that loop.
Bronsky smiled. Maybe it was a good thing she was still around.
“If you ask me, he hightailed it out of here a moment after we came inside,” Dino said.
“Either that or he’s locked himself in a room upstairs and isn’t planning on coming out until after everyone’s gone,” Stone said.
He and Dino had found some privacy in Felicity’s library, after spending the last thirty minutes mingling with the other mourners and looking for Pryce. But the man had been nowhere to be found.
“Who’s locked themselves upstairs?” Lance asked from the doorway.
“You need to stop doing that,” Stone said.
“Doing what?”
“Popping in, out of the blue.”
“Then you should have closed the door,” Lance said.
He stepped inside and did so himself.
“Maybe he should wear a bell around his neck,” Dino suggested.
“Now there’s a thought,” Stone agreed.
“Are you going to answer my question?” Lance asked.
“You asked a question?” Stone said. “Oh, right. We were just speculating on Gordon Pryce’s whereabouts.”
“He left.”
“You know this for a fact?”
“He was in one of the carts heading to the church when I was being shuttled here.”
“How did he look?”
“In a hurry.”
Stone smirked and said to Dino, “See, he did buy my act.”
“Still doesn’t mean you’re winning an Oscar,” Dino countered.
“Felicity, are you still there?” Stone asked.
“She’s on the phone, but I’m here,” Carly said over Stone’s earpiece.
“Since Pryce is gone, is there any reason for us to hang around?”
“Hold.” The connection went silent for several seconds before she came back and said, “We think we have everything we need, so you’re released.”
“A pleasure doing business with you,” Stone said. He pulled out his phone and turned off the camera, cutting the link to Carly.
As he started to put his cell away, it rang with a call from Josie.
He took a few steps away from Dino and Lance and answered. “Hello.”
“Good morning,” she said.
“It’s afternoon here.”
“Oh, that’s right. I’m sorry. Am I catching you at a bad time?”
“Not at all. What’s up?”
“I just heard from Xavier. The Minerva will be ready to sail by tomorrow.”
“The Minerva?”
“It’s the name of the research ship he’s lending us. We could go out as early as tomorrow morning, but if I remember correctly, you said you wouldn’t be back by then.”
“You do remember correctly. How about Monday morning?”
“I’ll let them know. They’ll probably want to leave before sunrise.”
“Just tell me where I need to be and when, and I’ll be there.”
“I’ll text you the info.”
“Thanks, Josie. Dinner next week?”
“I’d love that.”
He hung up and returned to Dino and Lance.
“Your new not-girlfriend?” Dino asked.
“It was Josie, if that’s what you’re asking,” Stone said. “We’re on for Monday.” He looked at Lance. “We’re going to—”
Lance held up a hand. “Look at the Amanda Jae on one of Xavier Silva’s research vessels. The Minerva, I believe.”
“How did you—” Stone stopped himself. Lance had an uncanny way of knowing things that he shouldn’t. “I’ve had about as much fake mourning as I can take. Anyone for heading back to Windward Hall?”
“I was done before we got to the church,” Dino said.
“I really should make the rounds before I go,” Lance said. “But I suppose I can join you. As they say, leave them wanting more.”
“I don’t think anyone has ever said that about you, Lance,” Stone said.
“Nonsense. Happens all the time. Now, are we going or not?”
That evening, while Stone, Dino, and Lance were having dinner at Windward Hall, Stone received a text from Josie with the information on Monday’s voyage.
After passing the information on to Commander Choi, he said to Dino, “You mentioned wanting to come along on the trip to the Amanda Jae. Is that still a yes?”
“Is it still on Monday?” Dino asked.
“It is.”
“Then it’s a yes.”
“Great. Fred and I will pick you up at three a.m.”
“I’m sorry. Did you say three a.m.?”
“I did.”
“Then I change my answer to no.”
“Too late. Lance, you’re welcome to join us, too.”
“As appealing as the offer is, I’m afraid I must decline,” Lance said. “I’ll be in Paris.”
“Can I go with you instead?” Dino asked.
“I do enjoy your company, Dino, but sadly no.”
“I guess you’re stuck with me,” Stone said. “I promise, we’ll be back in New York by noon tomorrow, and that should give you plenty of sleep time before Monday morning.”
“Your generosity knows no bounds,” Dino said unenthusiastically.
“That’s what friends are for.”