“I remember the landscape architect mentioning that,” Stone said. “The sod looks like the last of their work.”
Passports and other ID were examined and checked against the guest list, the luggage was unloaded and the cars thoroughly searched by a swarm of security personnel. Finally, they were all cleared, the cars were reloaded, and they were driven to their cottages up the hill.
They dropped Felicity at her cottage first, then Stone and his party were delivered to the main building, which was formerly the Vance Calder mansion, and across a road from the two presidential cottages. The cars drove around the building to deliver the luggage, but Stone wanted to see the finished reception building.
He took a few steps inside and froze in his tracks. Dead ahead of him stood Arrington.
Peter came and stood beside him. “I remember this well,” he said. “It embarrassed Mother, and she took it down.”
Stone stared at the portrait, which was life-sized. Arrington was dressed in riding clothes and stood next to a beautiful horse, which seemed to be nibbling at her shoulder. He didn’t know who the artist was, but he had caught Arrington perfectly. Her hair was a little windblown, and there was mud on her boots, all of which added a natural quality to the work.
The hotel manager walked up and greeted Stone and his party. “I expect you’ve seen this before,” he said.
“No, I never have,” Stone replied, “but it’s beautiful.”
“We found it stored in a back room of the house, and we decided to hang it here. I hope you approve.”
“Yes, I do, and it’s the perfect spot,” Stone said. “Who was the artist?”
“Jamie Wyeth.”
“I know his work, and this is the best thing of his I’ve ever seen.”
“Did you know the car could have delivered you to your cottage?” the man asked.
“Yes, but I wanted to walk through this building.”
“I’ll give you the tour, then. This way.”
After the tour they walked to the new cottage; Stone made the room assignments. He unpacked his clothes in the master suite, then walked around the ground floor, checking out the house. It was impeccable. There were bouquets of fresh flowers everywhere, the bar was fully stocked, and there was a kitchen staff awaiting food orders.
The doorbell rang, and a staffer admitted Mike Freeman. Stone mixed them a drink and they sat down on the rear patio.
“What was the reaction of the Secret Service?” Stone asked.
Mike told him of the steps that had been taken. “Everything that can be done has been done,” he said.
“Good.”
Perhaps two hundred yards away, Hamish McCallister, who was accredited to the grand opening and the presidential conferences as a correspondent for a London newspaper and a travel magazine, watched a movie on the large-screen television set in the living room of his suite. There was a knock on his door and he answered it. Hans stood there with the Vuitton trunk on a hand cart.
“This way,” Hamish said. “Just set it next to the window in the bedroom.”
Hans did as he was told.
“Any problems getting through security?” Hamish asked.
“None at all.”
“Hide your small case somewhere in your workplace,” Hamish said.
“We had all assumed that would be the case.”
“Wait for my e-mail message,” Hamish told him. That was still a couple of days away. “Soon our work will be done.”
34
Late in the afternoon Stone answered the phone in the living room. “Hello?”
“It’s Holly.”
“Well, hello, there. I heard you got in this morning.”
“Yes, the president stopped in D.C. on the way back from a conference in Brazil and picked up the first lady.”
“And you.”
“And me. Have you settled into your new quarters?” she asked.
“Yes, everyone’s here and unpacked.”
“The first lady asked me to call you. They’d like to get together for a drink, but there are too many staff and Secret Service here to be having guests.”
“We’d be delighted if they’d join us here for drinks,” Stone said. “We’re just across the road.”
“I think she was hoping you’d suggest that. In an hour?”
“That’s perfect. They have to be back over here at seven-thirty, since President and Mrs. Vargas are coming for dinner.”
“We’ll see you in an hour.” They both hung up.
Stone stood up and clapped his hands. “All right, everybody, go scrub up and change clothes. The president and first lady are coming here for drinks in an hour. Don’t overdress, though.” He called Felicity and Mike Freeman and invited them.
The group scattered to their own rooms, and Stone went to the kitchen and asked the staff to have canapes ready and to find a bartender, then he went to the master suite, showered, shaved, and changed into a tan linen suit, which didn’t seem too formal.
By the time he got back to the living room, there was a team of Secret Service agents checking out the house, upstairs and down. Their work done, they vanished. Mike Freeman and Felicity Devonshire arrived soon, and Stone introduced them. Each pretended it was the first time they had met. Stone knew of their history and said nothing to make either of them uncomfortable.
At the appointed hour the doorbell rang, and Stone answered it himself.
President Will Lee came in first, his hand outstretched. “Stone, it’s good to see you,” he said. Then the first lady entered, followed by Holly Barker and a female Secret Service agent. Another agent remained outside the door. Air kisses were exchanged.
Stone led the group into the living room where he introduced Dino’s girlfriend, Viv, Ben and his girlfriend, Emma, plus Peter and Hattie. They were acquainted with Felicity, but Mike was new to the Lees.
A bartender and two waiters worked the group quickly, then got out of their way. The first lady, Holly, and Felicity were drawn together, and after some polite chat with the group, the president asked Stone and Mike to show him the patio. The three men walked outside and took seats at a table beside the pool.
“First of all, Stone,” Lee said, “I want to thank you again for your and Dino’s brilliant assistance when you were in Washington last year.”
“We were delighted to be of help, Mr. President.”
“Why can’t I get you to call me Will when we’re alone?”
“Maybe when you’ve left office,” Stone said. “When I try, I become speechless.”
“Mike, I’m glad to meet you at last,” Lee said. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about you and your company.”
“Thank you, Mr. President.”
“I knew Jim Hackett, of course,” Lee said, referring to the late founder of Strategic Services. “He was a good man.”
“He certainly was.”
