Page 25 of Stuart Woods' Smolder

“Get ahold of Mike Freeman, too. I doubt whoever they were will be back, but it wouldn’t hurt to have Strategic Services watch the place for a few days.”

“What about your trip?”

“What about it?”

“Are you still going?”

“I’ve been given permission to leave by the commissioner himself. You’ll have to carry on without me.”

“Thank God.”

—

Stone had been hoping to sit left seat when his G-500 took off from Teterboro so that he could log some flight time, but having been up a good part of the night, he opted for a reclined seat in the back and let Faith handle the duties.

This turned out to be a sound decision, as he was out before they reached cruising altitude and didn’t wake again until they began their descent into Santa Fe.

By the time he drove up to the Lees’ front gates in his rental car, it was early afternoon.

Two Secret Service agents searched his vehicle while a third looked on from the other side of the fence. After he’d been given the okay, the gate slid open, and he headed up to the house that had once been his. He had swapped it several years ago with the Lees for their townhome in D.C., which Stone had then let Holly use when she was secretary of state.

Will Lee was out front waiting for him when he climbed out of the car. Stone grabbed his luggage and headed over.

“So glad you could fly out,” the former president said. “It’s been too long.”

Will pulled him into a bear hug.

“You’re looking well,” Stone said.

“That is a damn lie, and you know it. But thank you.”

A Secret Service agent appeared from seemingly nowhere. “Let me take that for you, sir,” he said, reaching for Stone’s suitcase.

“Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

“I must insist.”

Will leaned toward Stone and whispered, “He needs to run it through their X-ray machine. That’s the downside of being friends with us.”

“If that’s the only downside, then I’d say it’s worth it.”

Stone handed over his luggage, then followed Will inside.

“I guess we can forgo the tour,” Will said. “We’re putting you in the larger guest room. I assume you remember where it is.”

“I do.”

“How about something to drink? Just whipped up a pitcher of margaritas.”

“I will not say no to that.”

Will led him into the kitchen, where a woman was cutting fruit into bite-size pieces. A wide smile appeared on her face when she saw Stone.

“Hello, Martha,” Stone said. “How have you been?” Martha had occasionally worked for Stone when the place had been his, and had been brought on full-time by the Lees.

“I am good, Mr. Barrington. But you…” She looked him up and down, then tsked. “Too skinny. You need to eat more.”

Stone had neither lost nor gained a pound since the last timehe’d seen her. “I only accepted the invitation to come here because I missed your cooking.”

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