Instead of answering, she stepped out of the way and motioned for someone to enter.
Carly Riggs walked into his office.
“I thought you were in Maine,” he said.
“I was in Maine, and I’ll be back there in a few hours.”
“What are you doing here?”
She held up a square box large enough to hold a soda can. “I’ve brought you presents.”
She walked over, set it on his desk, and removed the cover. Inside were several buttons of varying sizes and colors, all darkshades. They sat on a tray that could be removed, indicating that there was likely something underneath them.
Confused, he said, “Thank you?”
“Where’s your suit?”
“Which suit?”
“The one you’re wearing to Felicity’s funeral.”
The puzzle pieces clicked into place. “That’s the surveillance equipment.”
“What did you think I brought?”
“Buttons.”
“Theyarebuttons.”
He frowned. “You just said they’re for surveillance.”
“Theyarefor surveillance. Objects have the ability to be more than one thing, you know. So, where’s your suit?”
“At Windward Hall.” Stone kept a complete wardrobe at the countryside estate.
“In England?”
“The last I checked that’s where it’s located.”
“I don’t have time to go to England.”
“I guess I could wear one of my suits from here,” he said.
“That would be helpful.”
He went upstairs and retrieved a dark gray bespoke suit that would be appropriate for a funeral and brought it back to his office.
Carly took it from him, then settled on his couch and began comparing buttons to the ones already on the jacket.
After a few moments, she smiled and said, “Perfect match.”
“Really?” He looked and saw that the button in her hand looked exactly like those on the jacket.
“Don’t act so surprised,” she said. “We’ve based these on suits you are known to wear.”
“It’s nice to be predictable, I guess.”
She opened a small bag holding sewing needles and thread.
