“No one cares, Stone. Rocky, message received?”
“Received and understood, sir. You can count on me.” They hung up.
“You know Lance better than you admitted to Viv, don’t you?” Stone asked her.
“I usually lie to people who are interrogating me. It’s part of my training.”
“What part?”
“Lying 101,” she replied.
“Have you been lying to me?”
“About what?”
“Anything.”
“No, you haven’t interrogated me, so it hasn’t been necessary.”
“But you would lie to me, if you thought it necessary.”
“Of course not,” she replied. “That would be a violation of our personal relationship.”
“Are you lying to me now?”
“Maybe.”
“How can I tell?”
“You can’t. I’m trained, remember?”
“I’d rather you didn’t lie to me—ever.”
“And I’d rather you didn’t make it necessary for me to lie to you.”
“Forget it.”
“I’ll try, but that may be a lie.”
“So you won’t forget it?”
“I don’t forget much.”
“Try.”
“Forgetting is an involuntary act.”
“This is a losing game, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Probably.”
He placed his hand in a tender place and wiggled his fingers. “Do you like this?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Is that a lie?”
“Probably not.”
“When can I trust you not to lie?”
“When I’m not lying.”
“And when don’t you lie?”
“At times like this,” she said, squeezing his fingertips and kissing him on the top of his head. “You know what I like about you?”
“No, what?”
“Your constant readiness.”
“That’s flattering.”
“No, it’s just a fact.” She pulled him on top of her. “And I’m not lying.”
* * *
—
After lunch, Stone suggested a trip to Bloomingdale’s.
“Why Bloomingdale’s?” Rocky asked.
“Because I buy my boxer shorts there, and my stock’s elastic is beginning to fail.”
“On all of them?”
“Just the ones that I bought at the same time.”
“Do I have to watch?”
“No, you can mosey around other parts of the store while I decide between plaids and stripes.”
Stone thought he would lose her as they passed through the cosmetics counters, but she stayed at his elbow, even while he was deciding between plaids and stripes. He gave the clerk his credit card and adjusted the small mirror used for fitting sunglasses, which were displayed nearby. “Rocky?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think Lance would have us followed at Bloomingdale’s?”
“I wouldn’t think that Lance would care so much about your boxer shorts.”
“I’m going to move over a foot or two; when I do, check the image in the mirror and tell me if you think the couple in neckties is following us. She’s pretending not to like the tie he’s chosen.” He moved over, and Rocky replaced him in front of the mirror.
“Well?”
“I think they very well could be following us,” she replied. “And if they are, I would tend to believe that Lance sent them.”
“How certain is ‘very well could be’?”
“Let’s say I’m quite certain about it.”
“What about the couple makes you so sure?” he asked.
“Well, for a start, I think she actually likes the necktie she’s complaining about.”
“Really?”
“Her heart isn’t in it. Wives are never iffy about these things.”
“Any other reason you’re so sure?”
“There is the fact that the woman and I were in the same class at the Farm,” she said, referring to Camp Peary, where CIA recruits undergo their initial training.
“That reason makes an impression.”
“I’m impressed, too, that you spotted them when I didn’t,” Rocky said. “How did you do that?”
“I, too, thought her heart wasn’t in the argument over the tie.”
“Let’s rumble them,” Rocky said. “Follow my lead.”
Rocky turned around and fixed the couple with her gaze.
“Betty!” she called out. “Did you see her jump at the sound of her name?” she asked Stone.
“I did, but she’s ignoring you.”
“Betty Swenson!” Rocky nearly shouted.
This time the woman turned and regarded Rocky, her eyebrows up. “Why, Rocky,” she said, managing to sound surprised.
“Let’s go,” Rocky said to Stone, then she walked toward the couple, while Stone trailed her.
Rocky offered her hand to shake, and Betty took it. “You look just the same,” Rocky said.
“You look even better,” Betty reposted.
“Who’s this?” Rocky asked, turning to regard Betty’s companion.
“This is my friend, Evan,” she replied.
“Rocky Hardwick,” Rocky said, shaking his hand. “And this is my friend, Stone Barrington,” she said, “as if you didn’t know.”
Betty looked Stone over and decided to shake his hand. “How do you do, Mr. Barrington? And, Rocky, how would I know?”
“Because Lance told you. Stone, you see, is a senior adviser to Lance.”
“Come to think of it, I believe I’ve heard the name. And you’ll be glad to know, Stone, it wasn’t taken in vain.”
“Whether I would be glad of that depends on who spoke it,” Stone replied.