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“That’s good enough. You might give Ed Rawls a ring when the weather is better.”
“I’ll do that.”
“See you.” Stone hung up.
Jack accepted a little more stew from Seth. “Anyone asking for me?” he asked.
“Nope, and if you stay out of the village store, nobody will.”
“Stone had mentioned it.”
He finished the stew and his wine, then he reclined his chair a bit and dozed through the thunder and lightning.
When he woke up, the rain had stopped, at least temporarily, and there were a few rays of sunshine outside. The phone rang again, and this time Jack answered. “Yes?”
“It’s Rawls. Come down here at six for a drink, and if you’re decent company, you can stay for dinner, which will be beef.”
“Thank you, yes.”
Rawls gave him directions to his place and instructions for dealing with the front gate, which apparently was a big log.
“See you at six,” Jack said.
Seth came back in and gave him the keys to the Ford. “Can you drive a stick shift?”
“Sure.”
“Not everybody can these days.”
Jack went upstairs and changed for dinner.
28
Jack stared atthe huge log across Rawls’s driveway, and he was amused. Then the log/gate opened, he drove the Ford wagon in, and the log closed behind him. He was impressed.
As he approached the house the figure of a man appeared on the porch, clutching an exotic-looking rifle with a large scope mounted. Rawls waved him in, then pointed to a spot where he should park. He got out and received a perfunctory handshake.
“I’m Ed Rawls. All the awful stuff you’ve heard about me is probably true.” He opened a door and waved Jack into the house and to a chair, then Rawls closed, bolted, anddouble-locked the door behind them. “It’s my experience that fewer unwanted visitors come in if I do this. Booze?”
“Scotch, rocks, please.”
“Single malt? I’ve got Laphroaig.”
“Sure.”
Rawls handed him the drink, then fell into the identical chair before the fireplace. “Cute disguise,” he said.
“Thanks. Recently I’ve taken care not to be remembered by the people I meet.”
“I’ve had days like that, too,” Rawls said. “I should have seen your makeup artist.”
“I learned a bit of it at the Farm,” Jack said.
“I must have been hungover that day,” Rawls replied. “Why do you think you need it on an island populated by about sixty people after Labor Day?”
“I don’t know who the sixty are, and I’d rather they didn’t know me, even by sight. Especially by sight,” he added.
“Fair enough. I take it you’ve been warned about the village store?”
